Just Wondering

It's an old post (but a good one) on the missional church: it's called Missional: To dwell and to die, posted last June at by Erika Haub at The Margins.

If there is one element of “the missional church” or “missional theology” as I understand it that at once compels and terrifies me, it is the invitation to live an incarnational life. Philippians two tells me that my “attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus” and then it describes the most terrifying emptying of all power, privilege and self-preservation imaginable. An emptying that leads to death, and not just any kind of death but one so humiliating and horrific that it would not have been discussed in polite company.

One of the things that impresses me about the whole missional conversation is its willingness to admit the costliness of real discipleship (to use Bonhoeffer's word). Erika gets it right when she speaks of this costliness as intrinsic to "incarnational" being. Jesus, what have I in this life if I have not you?

One thing I know of myself is, I'm not there yet. The flesh wars against the spirit always. This is important to remember. When Peter tried to shield his beloved teacher, Jesus, from the way of the cross, Jesus told him, "You do not have your mind on the things of God, but on the things of men." [Mark 8:33]

I need to ask myself frequently, do I shield myself from the costly way of God because in fact my mind is settled on the preservation of my own comfortable status quo? Just wondering.

2 things

1. I've begun listening to the preaching of Sinclair Ferguson and Alistair Begg at the Christian Life Conference in Memphis. I've listened to Ferguson's introductory remarks and was simply so blown away I'm going to have to listen again before going on, next time taking notes. Powerful stuff!

2. Also, found out from The Blind Beggar that I live in one of the least religious states in America! Not that I couldn't tell, but it's nice to have your intuition confirmed by the research!

On Not Forgiving Oneself

People say it all the time:

I know that God has forgiven me, but I just can't forgive myself.

It's very hard to talk people out of this mindset. It's my impression that they cling desperately to this kind of assertion; that it gives them a sense of personal righteousness even as they speak of their own sin. In other words, it can be strangely self-serving to cling to our pain and our guilt.

Do you think that's possible? I do. I see it in their eyes, when I tell them that if they truly believe they have been forgiven by God, they have no reason to continue to carry this sin-burden. I see them cling more desperately still to their claim, although they can't ever explain why.

It's the flesh, that's what I think. We like to claim the special-ness of our emotions, the power and importance and real-ness of them. We don't like to admit that our emotion (our gut) is ultimately deceptive, self-serving, and spirit-crushing.

Here's what I want to say to the next person who tells me that they can't forgive themselves, even though they understand that the cross of Christ is the towering symbol of their innocence, their freedom from the repugnant burden of sin. I'll say this:

Dude, you just need to repent of that. You say you get it about the cross, but I don't think you do. This clinging to your guilt even as the Beloved pays your debt, this is a the flesh warring against the Spirit and that's all it is.

Well, I think I remember my son Nate telling me once that if we're not frequently calling on people to repent (including ourselves) then we're probably not preaching the Gospel.

Ministry and Mission

[Notice some changes on the blogroll? More to come, but for now I've put a list of missional bloggers up there, using the new Blogger gadget. This is part of my plan to spend some time focusing on the issues and ideas that gather around the concept of the missional church.]

Today I want to get back to yesterday's two themes and kind of connect them up. Yesterday I talked about how Christian prayer tends toward intercessory ministry for the hurting. That is, you might say, the default position of public and private prayer. I was, by the way, riffing off a post by Steve Timmis at The Crowded House blog.

After that, in a second post, I quoted Alan Hirsch, a missional blogger, on the relationship between ministry and mission. I found Alan's post extremely interesting. You should read it!

As I said, I want to connect up these two themes. Hirsch opened his post with a statement that really got me thinking:

In a remark ascribed to Gordon Cosby, the pioneering leader of that remarkable community, Church of the Savior in Washington. DC, he noted that in over 60 years of significant ministry, he had observed that no groups that came together around a non-missional purpose (i.e. prayer, worship, study, etc.) ever ended up becoming missional.

If we begin with an inward focus, we will continue that way. It will be very hard to turn the group outward. This has been my experience as well.

Take a typical small group that meets for prayer. You ask people about their prayer needs, and the answer is usually about work, or family, or physical problems, or relationships, or past hurts that we keep dwelling on, or not being able to forgive ourselves, etc. Quickly the prayer warriors begin to flip through their Bibles looking for appropriate comfort verses and the big promises about rising up like eagles or God having a great plan for your life. People inevitably feel better (or at least say they do), and it is said of the prayer time that "God really showed up."

This is the prayer time everyone expects and desires. It is completely inward focused, and it never will be otherwise . . . maybe.

Let's get back to Alan's understanding of the proper relationship between ministry (like prayer) and mission. Hirsch again:

If evangelizing and discipling the nations lie at the heart of the church’s purpose in the world, then it is mission, and not ministry, that is the true organizing principle of the church. Mission here, is being used in a narrow sense here to suggest the church’s orientation to the ‘outsiders’ and ministry as the orientation to the ‘insiders.’ Experience tells us that a church that aims at ministry seldom gets to mission even if it sincerely intends to do so. But the church that aims at mission will have to do ministry, because ministry is the means to do mission.

I think this is getting the cart and the horse in the right relationship to one another. If we are a mission-minded people--having our minds, that is, on the things of God, and not the things of man--then the purpose of ministry (like prayer) will be to help us in our mission.

In such a case, the typical prayer-need would be something like this: "I need prayer for confidence to tell my co-worker about Jesus." "My heart is breaking for the poor in my neighborhood. I need prayer to show me how I might serve them." "My work is very stressful right now. I need prayer that I might be a source of peace and rest to those around me, rather than simply being just as stressed as the rest."

I'm going to start modeling this in my own small-group and wherever prayer-needs are solicited.

Any thoughts?

Mission and Minstry

Alan Hirsch:

If evangelizing and discipling the nations lie at the heart of the church’s purpose in the world, then it is mission, and not ministry, that is the true organizing principle of the church. Mission here, is being used in a narrow sense here to suggest the church’s orientation to the ‘outsiders’ and ministry as the orientation to the ‘insiders.’ Experience as tells us that a church that aims at ministry seldom gets to mission even if it sincerely intends to do so. But the church that aims at mission will have to do ministry, because ministry is the means to do mission. Our services, our ministry, need a greater cause to keep it alive and give it is broader meaning. By planting the flag outside the walls and boundaries of the church so to speak, the church discovers itself by rallying to it—this is mission. And in pursuing it we discover ourselves, and God, in a new way, and the nations both ‘see’ and hear the gospel and are saved.

It's a really fascinating take, and I urge you to read the whole thing. The comments section is also filled with interesting dialogue.

On Creating Crises

Steve Timmis has a good post at the elephant in the room blog. Steve is touching on one of my old complaints about church people. Everybody wants to be your comforter. The whole idea of church life, they seem to think, is to find out what's hurting and pray for that. Nothing makes them light up more than to hear that you're feeling down, or you have some back pain, or your job is boring. It gives them something to "intercede" about!

I hope I'm not sounding too awfully cynical here. I certainly do appreciate prayer, but I think we're training ourselves to be perpetual spiritual invalids, rather than forgetting ourselves and getting involved in the mission of God in the world around us.

Anyway, as I say, Timmis is touching on that same matter. He writes:

So whereas once Christians were commended because of the way they faced persecution and death, now we face a day at the office with the same degree of trepidation — and sue God for copious grace with the same degree of urgency!

I love what Timmis goes on to say. In my opinion, it's a lesson many of us need reminding of:

Why do our lives have a tendency towards ‘heaviness’, worthiness and intensity? We could rephrase that: why do we create crises?
Part of the answer has to be that, by and large, we don’t really have any!
That sounds like it could be a good thing, but crises are one of the ways we justify our existence. They are the way we give our lives meaning and significance. They somehow make us important, or are a means of soliciting sympathy.
But part of God’s glory is that he is the God of the insignificant, the mundane, the trivial and the incidental.
In Christ we thrive in the normality of our lives, and by creating constant crises, we rob God of the glory of his superabundant grace for the common man.

Read the whole post and let me know what you think!

The man can sure pick it.

Much more music. Much more music is needed in this life. Here's some I like:



HT: Jonathan Dodson.

3 Things

1. I really like this post over at The Gospel-Driven Church. Here's a quick snip:

I have a love/hate relationship with Jesus' disciples. I love 'em because they're just like me. I hate 'em because they're just like me.

All along they're wanting the Romans physically overthrown and Jesus on a literal throne in Jerusalem, and all along Jesus is consistently telling them the kingdom of God isn't like that. No swords and horses. Palm branches and donkeys. No ear chopping. Foot washing.

So he goes all the way to the cross, dies and is buried. He resurrects three days later. And as he's ascending into heaven, they're asking, "So, um, do we get that kingdom of Israel now?"

Read the rest of it and be edified.

2. My church is starting a membership program (we never had one before now). You take 8 weeks of classes and you're a member. You choose not to take the classes, then you're just "an attender." Attenders, it is suggested, are probably unwilling to make a commitment to the church. They probably don't want to be accountable.

Anybody else have a problem with this? I'm leaning against. I've been serving in various capacities in this church for the past nine years. Heck, I've got nothing to prove. Now suddenly I'm supposed to make "a public declaration of my commitment to the church" by taking an 8-week course! Am I missing something here?

Think I'll just be an attender. Wonder if Jesus meant to say, "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you an 8-week course with your very own 3-ring binder...."

3. I just bought a laptop. In fact, this is my first laptop, and you're reading my first blogpost produced on a laptop. Me happy! Me giddy! Me gonna be cafe-rat with a laptop, just like I always wanted!

Oh, but that's not my third thing. My third thing has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I just wanted to have a thing #3:



Bonus Thing: If you want to see a wonderful movie that is both whimsical and profound, visually stunning and deeply thoughtful about human nature, you should watch The Blue Umbrella. One of the best experiences I've ever had in front of a TV!

Chatting wtih Josh

I met with Josh Otte for coffee last week. Coffee, that is, and good conversation. Thanks for that, Josh!

Josh --if you don't know--blogs at Eucatastrophe 101. He's a great guy who has a lot of clarity on the whole "missional church" thing. He helps pastor a church in my neck of the woods (Boondocks, USA) and recently preached at his church on the subject of repentance. He posted a few thoughts on the matter here.

Oh man, I said the "m" word, didn't I?

Missional.

Although I haven't been blogging much lately, I have been thinking. Thinking about, oh, what the heck I'm supposed to be doing in this life.

My mission.

And I was reading this morning in the Gospel of Mark what Jesus had to say about that:

If anyone would come after me , let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.

Yup, the way gets narrow fast right around the time Jesus says that.

Anyway, I'm still here. I want to begin to use this blog to investigate the "m" word a little more, and perhaps chronicle my attempts to live the mission. Sorry for the recent reticence. To make up the difference, I promise to be overly verbose in the future.

Wednesday Doe-See-Doe

This one's in honor of Barack Obama. It's kind of nice to have a president who really loves the blues.



After a year in Washington, he might find himself humming this tune in his sleep!

I believe. I don't believe. Help.

In Francis Chan's Crazy Love, Chan suggests that most of us are not living any differently than we would be if we didn't believe in God. He recalls a college professor asking the class, "What are you doing right now that requires faith?"

I thought of that question as I journaled this morning about the story in the 9th chapter of Mark concerning the man who brought his demon-possessed son to Jesus for healing. You remember the exchange:

The father: If you can heal my son, please do so.

Jesus: 'If I can! Why, anything is possible for one who believes!

Father: Lord, I believe. But help my unbelief (by healing my son!).

I love it. These have been for me, it sometimes seems, the most precious words not spoken by Jesus in the entire Bible. They encapsulate with breathtaking urgency the attitude of David throughout the Psalms. I believe. I don't believe. Help.

There are some popular "worship songs" out there that encourage us to see ourselves as only bringing the best of ourselves to God. What hogwash. I imagine God saying, in such a case, "Don't kid yourself, chump. You're no better than your ancestors Adam and Eve with their silly fig leaves. Get real!"

It's not as if Jesus is God's faith-proctor, administering a cosmic faith-exam that we are required to pass in order to merit his help, with some "anointed ones" passing with flying colors, the rest of needing to go back to the books and study hard, hoping we don't die before the next scheduled exam comes around.

In reality, like the father in Mark's story, our faith is accompanied by unfaith. For most of us, a little faith, a lot of unfaith. What had Jesus said just prior to this episode? "How long must I bear with this faithless generation?"

Every generation between Adam & Eve's exclusion from the intimate presence of God in His "good" world and the future gathering of the saints in the new creation-encompassing restored garden-world called in the Book of Revelation the New Jerusalem at the end of this age . . . as I say, every generation between these two perfections has been a faithless generation. As the word generation implies, it's bred in the bone.

And yet, the father in the story did say, "I believe." What stirred this foreign inclination in the man's heart? Since I am running long here, I will answer briefly. In a word, weakness. An extreme poverty of resources that led him to admit his helplessness in the face of his son's terrible ordeal. Absolute need. Helplessness. Desperation. And then, also, in the midst of this helplessness, the presence of Jesus.

Lord, I believe. I don't believe. I'm a saint. I'm a sinner. I love you, I turn from you frequently to go my own way. What a mess I am. Most of the time I don't think I am, but I am. I bring it all to you and beg you, heal my unbelief. Help me to walk by faith. I need you more than I know.

Back to the Doe-See-Soe

A Brief Note about the Weather

It's January.  It's cold.  Up to 3 degrees, as a matter of fact.  Birds are falling out of the sky and shattering like feathery popsicles.  You can stick a fork in my foot and I wouldn't feel a thing. Numb, in other words.  It's so cold, the flags on every flagpole in Maine are frozen in mid-wave. On the other hand, I heard about a house-fire where the flames froze solid. Instead of dousing the fire with water, the firemen chipped away at it with little icepicks. They gathered up the broken shards and brought them indoors to let them thaw in mugs and make hot tea. Very efficient of them. What I mean is to say is, it's dang cold out there. 

"Here were decent godless people"

This is from T. S. Eliot's The Rock:

What life have you, if you have not life together?
There is not life that is not in community,
And no community not lived in praise of GOD.
And now you live dispersed on ribbon roads,
And no man knows or cares who is his neighbor
Unless his neighbor makes too much disturbance,
But all dash to and fro in motor cars,
Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.
Much to cast down, much to build, much to restore.
I have given you the power of choice, and you only alternate
Between futile speculation and unconsidered action.
And the wind shall say: "Here were decent godless people:
Their only monument the asphalt road
And a thousand lost golf balls."

Doe-See-Doe

I was looking for Frank, but I found Jamie.

David Wayne on a Theology of Suffering

Some of the most profound blogging going on just now can be found over at David Wayne's Jollyblogger. As most of my readers probably know, David has cancer. Since a good friend of mine has cancer right now, and since I shouldn't be surprised to find someday that I myself or someone very close to me will have cancer, David's perspective here is I think very helpful. Read his latest post along with the many comments.

David is occupying that space where theology and real life intersect in a way that cannot be ignored. I will not attempt to quote him, but suffice to say he is talking about a theology of suffering rather than a theology of glory. See the links he provides for further explanation.

This is important stuff. This is life and death stuff. I do want to quote one of the commenters here, because her words resonate with some thing I've been saying lately. A theology of glory will let you down when the cancer comes. Cancer, sickness, death, all these things will seem like a failure of God's.

Anyway, here's the comment I wanted to quote. Anne wrote:

After receiving my cancer diagnosis, (the same as yours, two and a half years ago) the thing I was most struck by was how Christians come across as somewhat surprised when we begin to die.

Yeah, it "strikes" me too. It's not like the evidence isn't overwhelming that we too will grow sick and die someday (unless a dreadful accident intervenes . . . or Christ returns). This is why we need a theology that is adequate to the task of explaining suffering in the context of the Lordship of Jesus. Excuse me, but all our talk of victorious living and power and "gifting" falls woefully short of filling this need.

[BTW: I see Nate has posted on the same subject. Note his title: "Delivered UNTO suffering." Nate's take is really interesting, and actually expresses something I'm not sure that I've ever seen expressed quite so well. I won't quote him directly, but suffice to say, he's onto something!]

Preaching the 100-proof Gospel to Youself

Fellow Mainer Joshua Otte has a great post about preaching the Gospel to your drooping heart. He's quoting the great John Owen here. Owen was one of the greatest teachers concerning the Gospel. He reminds us that it is the Gospel (and only the Gospel) that truly convicts our sin-sick hearts, and the Gospel that in turn comforts and sanctifies us. Otte's post contains a lengthy quote from Owen, and you should really read the whole thing, but here's a snip:

Let, then, your soul by faith be exercised with such thoughts and apprehensions as these: I am a poor, weak creature; unstable as water, I cannot excel. This corruption is too hard for me, and is at the very door of ruining my soul; and what to do I know not. My soul is become as parched ground, and a habitation of dragons. I have made promises and broken them; vows and engagements have been as a thing of naught. Many persuasions have I had that I had got the victory and should be delivered, but I am deceived; so that I plainly see, that without some eminent succor and assistance, I am lost, and shall be prevailed on to an utter relinquishment of God. But yet, though this be my state and condition, let the hands that hang down be lifted up, and the feeble knees be strengthened. Behold, the Lord Christ, that has all fullness of grace in his heart [Matt. 28:18], he is able to slay all these his enemies.

I also want to mention a post from Joshua's friend, Jonathan Dodson, called 50/50 or 100% Gospel.

The 50/50 Gospel relies on 50% behavior, and 50% God's grace. The behavior half can include such good things as morality, missions, or community. These things are merely our contribution to the mix. Look at any Christian bestseller list and you'll likely see a lot of books promoting the 50/50 Gospel. In fact, much of Christian publishing is dependent on reader-acceptance of this premise. Dodson explains the 50/50 Gospel further:

Broken marriages, patterns of sexual sin, deep-seated anger, and financial hardships are primarily the product of our failure to behave like Jesus. Enter the Church. The church can reminds us, exhort us, even train us to be like Jesus, to make good moral decisions, not bad ones. We need the grace of God’s example and a faithful commitment to behave accordingly. This is the 50/50 gospel, and it is anathema.

The 50/50 gospel relies, not on the power of grace, but on the power of morality. As a result, the Church becomes a half-way house between our moral failures and our moral successes. We rehabilitate our decision-making under the faithful instruction of a faithless institution. But the 50/50 gospel is sometimes mixed differently. Try 50% mission, 50% grace. We need the grace of Jesus example and the goal of Jesus mission. In this concoction, churches serve as a inspiring non-profit, moving us from missional failure to missional success. We soften our social consciences under the weight of a missional institution. And then there is the 50% community, 50% grace combo. We need the grace of God to become “like the early church,” to have real community, to jettison our individualism in order to truly become “the church.” The gospel becomes a quick-fix to our lack of community.

Well, I've quoted a good deal of Dodson's article so far. I simply don't know what to leave out. Dodson's ends his post with a brief description of the "100 proof Gospel." You should really read the whole post carefully. I would see the 100-proof Gospel explained more fully . . . but wait, that's what Owen did. Go back to Joshua's post and read Owen's take on the 100-proof Gospel.

33 Books

Here are the books I read last year.

Fiction

Storytelling is important to me, so I try to have a novel going most of the time. They trend toward the "historical" type, but I like an occasional sci-fi. Perhaps I did not read a single "great" novel this year, but many very good ones. Wangerin's novelization of the life of Paul was stirring, as was Alcorn's Safely Home. Ender's Game, by Orson Card, was simply amazing. Child 44 gripped me. Here's the list.

Axis, by Robert Charles Wilson
Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card
The Children of Men, by P. D. James
The Thirteen Clocks, by James Thurber
Safely Home, by Randy Alcorn
Paul: A Novel, by Walter Wangerin, Jr.
Pontius Pilate: A Novel, by Paul L. Maier
A Body in the Bathhouse, by Lindsay Davis
Child 44, by Tom Rob Smith
Island of Ghosts, by Gillian Bradshaw
Captains Courageous, by Rudyard Kipling
Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliffe

History

My plan is to read "through" history by reading biographies, historical treatises, and even novels. Just now I'm somewhere in the second century, so you'll see a preponderance of books concerned with the early years of the Roman empire. I've also taken a liking to sports history, so there's some of that. The elegiac memoir, Cider with Rosie, is in this list because it fits no other. It was perhaps the finest book I read all year. A forgotten gem.

Cities of God, by Rodney Stark
The Faith and the Power, by James D. Snyder
Cider with Rosie, by Laurie Lee
Rubicon, by Tom Holland
Augustus: Rome's First Emperor, by Anthony Everitt
Seabiscuit: An American Legend, by Laura Hillenbrand
The Match, by Mark Frost
The Teammates, by David Halberstam
Rome and Jerusalem: The Clash of Ancient Civilizations, by Martin Goodman

Spiritual

Some of these books were recommended, some were just found laying around (so I read 'em), but most of my reading choices in this area were very carefully considered. Lots of really good books here, but perhaps the two that stand out are Wright's Following God, and Johnson's Him We Proclaim. The Bonhoeffer title stands alone, of course. That represents my one "re-read" of the year.

Goldsworthy Trilogy, by Graeme Goldsworthy
Sacred Marriage, by Gary L. Thomas
Finding Deeper Intimacy with God, by John Guest
Following Jesus, by N. T. Wright
The Cost of Discipleship, by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
A Fragile Stone, by Michael Card
Start Here, by Don Williams
Triumph of the Lamb, by Dennis E. Johnson
Sit, Walk, Stand, by Watchman Nee
Him We Proclaim: Preaching Christ from All the Scriptures, by Dennis E. Johnson
The Reason for God, by Tim Keller
Naturally Supernatural, by Gary Best

Resolved

In 2009 I want to do these things more often:

• pray
  
• worship recklessly
  
• have honest conversations
• redeem the time
• run
• watch great films
• be considered foolish
• laugh with sinners
• give out of my poverty
• sit by the ocean
• repent
• sing
• be blown away by Jesus