“You did not choose me; I chose you and appointed you to go and bear much fruit, the kind of fruit that endures.” John 15:16a (Good News)

One thing I love about interacting with junior highers is that when ever I get overwhelmed with a concept I have an outlet for teaching that forces all of those lofty ideas back to earth.  I’ve been digging into the concept of friendship as it’s found in scripture for a while now so I took this question to a group of junior highers last week: “What makes someone your friend?”

Of all the responses, one struck me as loaded with a powerful message for our lives: “A friends accepts you as you are.”

I think we all, at least intellectually, would say that God accepts us as we are.  We find that here in John 15 when Jesus speaks of choosing the imperfect disciples to go and bear fruit.  His acceptance of us is humbling and worth meditating on.  However, what struck me deeper in thinking of friendship and acceptance was the power of accepting God as He is.  I think accepting God on His terms may be more difficult than allowing God to accept us as we are.  God’s character is unchanging and we so often enter into friendships hoping somehow that the other person will change or adapt to meet our needs.  God will meet our every need but He is unwavering in His identity and character.  To engage in healthy friendship with God takes both accepting and being accepted.  It takes a willingness to let God be God and to let God love us as we are.  Motion towards maturity in Christ comes from that foundational place of rest.

As I study friendship in scripture I’ve been looking into the actual Hebrew and Greek words used. In the OT when Abraham’s friendship with God is referenced the word used is generally translated in the OT as love.  It has a breadth of definition that includes beloved and lover.  It’s not that scripture is saying God was Abraham’s lover, but the word in other contexts has that connotation. It can be a very intimate, even sexual, word (Strong’s H157). When the Lord talked to Moses, on the other hand, it was the more common word for friend in the OT (H7453).  One that still includes lover as a possibility, but generally is used as friend, associate, brother or companion.

In terms of friendship with God I feel this points to a truth we find in our friendships with each other.  In healthy friendship people connect on multiple levels.  In the strongest friendships there is significance in talking about the superficial, the personal, the intimate, and in the times where both parties are completely silent.  I think we often feel pressured to strive to connect with God at all times on the most intimate level or to press into an abstract notion of intimacy.  I question if those ideals are really the best.  I’m leaning towards true intimacy as being comfortable with God and with yourself at all times.  Living in constant conversation with Him but not striving to attain some deeper connection.  Growing in depth and maturity in Christ at His pace and not our own.

John 15:12-17 (New International Version)

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.

The LORD would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend“  and Abraham was called God’s friend (2 Chronicles 20:7, Isaiah 41:8, James 2:23).  Now if both Abraham and Moses were under the old covenant and reached a place of friendship with God, how much more freedom do we have to enter into that friendship now that we live under the new covenant!  What does that friendship look like on a practical level?  In what ways does it effect how we are friends with our brothers and sisters in Christ?  What elements of what we find valuable in friendship with others points towards the fullness of experiencing friendship with God?  In what ways do our earthly friendships need to be shaped by heavenly standards set in scripture?  With the curtain torn and considering 2 Corinthians 3:7-18, why would we not all experience the LORD speaking to us face to face?

This idea of friendship with God is causing all sorts of havoc in my brain and spirit as it has been bouncing around seeking to engage and transform my heart and mind.  I tried to unpack it with some junior highers and a few friends over this past week and those interactions will be fodder for the next few posts on this subject.  In the meantime, you are all welcome to engage the passage and the questions above before I post again.

Culture is not a discipline problem. The function of the church is not to form others into our image, but to journey with them as we discover together what it means to worship God in spirit and in truth. On that journey, all will be conformed into the image of Christ, as the Refiner’s fire brings to question the things we’ve added to the gospel. Church structure must make space for the redemption of culture.  The evaluation of what is good, what is redeemable, and what needs to be severed and thrown to the fire.  As we seek to minister in that way to those whose culture differs from our own we will find that our culture is continually forced through that same refining process as we prepare for that day when we will worship and rejoice with every nation, tribe and tongue.

Strictly enforced “church rules” can have the unfortunate effect of building religious walls to keep us safe from cultural challenges that would force us to consider what parts of what we believe are at best irrelevant and at worst un-biblical. Obviously there must be structure and discipline, but it’s sinfully inadequate to justify rules to promote sin management or morality with rigidly interpreted verses and ignore the heart of God as revealed by Scripture. That would be breathing life back into the law. The heart behind discipline must be to establish a culture of grace that creates a safe environment for newcomers to enter into an encounter with Christ. There must be a deep theology behind our disciplinary structures, one that we can explain and invite people into. One that points to the God who spared the first murderer. One that points to the Messiah who cast off his right to throw the first stone. A theology that takes into account that Jesus said “Go now and leave your life of sin” and celebrated Zacchaeus’ generous repentance, while at the same time realizes that not only did he associate with the “tax collectors and sinners” but they liked associating with him too.

In John 17:21 and 23 Jesus’ prayer includes what I would consider an audacious promise.  His prayer states that if those who believe in the apostles words (vs. 20) will be one, the world will know and believe that Jesus was sent by the Father. I believe that the key to why this is the case is found in John 17:18 and 20:21. As Jesus was sent by the Father so also he sent out the disciples. As Jesus was sent, so we are sent. The world knowing and believing in Jesus comes about from more than lone evangelists crying out for sinners to repent. The revelation of God’s sending Jesus comes from the body being bound together in oneness. It comes from us living as one, sent people and that comes from dwelling in the reality that we are a loved people (John 17:23).  Loved with the same perfect love that Jesus was loved with and sent by.  When we accept and rest under that weight of undeserved love we are shaped in two ways that lead into us being formed into a sent people: Humility and Identity.

Humility

When you begin to realize you don’t deserve God’s affections and that you can not earn grace, it forces you to a position of humility.  To be loved first, before any movement towards holiness was ever displayed in your life, is an assault against any grounds for pride.  The very nature of being sent also points to humility – a humility that Jesus displayed.  His words to commission the disciples referenced his own sending to show what it would look like.  Paul the apostle sums up this example of humility in Philippians 2:5-7.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. (ESV)

Submission to the sender is required of one who goes at the request of another.  There is a position of subordination that is required.  Now in that submission you are not making yourself less, but saying that God is more trustworthy with your life than you are.  You become more by placing yourself in right relationship with God, which leads to the second result of resting under the undeserved love of God.

Identity

The phrase that is fast becoming cliche is, “To know who you are is to know whose you are” or some variation there of.  But cliche or not – it is true.  To know our relationship with the One who sends us secures in us identity.  Jesus was sent as the only beloved Son of God, and because of Christ’s sacrifice we are all invited to become sent out as beloved daughters and sons of God, in whom He is well pleased.  To become a sent people is to live in the reality that we are chosen into a family of brothers and sisters, and that we are given commission to expand that family to every corner of the earth.  To make disciples is to witness the re-birth of people into the kingdom as daughters and sons of God.

Humility and Identity as a People

I believe that the relationships between brothers and sisters in Christ become attractive to the world when we live in the tension between knowing that we are unworthy of grace and believing that in Christ we are called worthy.  Humility kills pride and identity creates confidence.  The two working in tandem create a freedom to not only be sent into the world, but sent into the joy and hardships of our brothers and sisters.

Reflections on Rest and Trust

September 19, 2009

For the Christian, to rest is an act of trust.

The sabbath as an individual or community expression makes the bold statement to the world that God is in control.  It says that our efforts can be put on hold for a day because of the knowledge that it is, in fact, He who will bring everything to completion and fruition.

To take on a lifestyle of rest is to stand in stark opposition to the culture of business that consumes much of the world (secular and Christian).  The sovereignty of God allows for the freedom to leave anxiety behind and walk in peace at all times knowing that the rule and reign of God remains uninterrupted no matter what we do or don’t do.

If you think this is dangerous you are absolutely right.  It is dangerous to our pride.  Our pride that says if I don’t do something then nothing is going to happen.  It is dangerous to our imperfect motivations that lead to religiously acting out our devotion so fervently that we ignore the need to respond out of relationship to God.  This is not an excuse for inaction, but there is definitely a major shift when our motivation to act moves from fear to trust.  A movement from the fear of falling out of grace to trusting that the grace that saved us is strong enough to carry us to maturity as we learn to follow Christ. It is a movement towards relationship. Not in an abstract way, but a real relationship in which a mutual trust begins to grow between us and the Almighty.  As we invest in trusting Him, our actions will come out of the humbling reality that He has lovingly chosen us and trusts we who love Him to partner as co-labors to carry out His work in the world.

I noticed a disturbing trend recently.  Somehow being able to pick apart our brothers and sisters, our communities, and our practices of faith has become a badge of maturity in the church. Jokes about “Christianese” have become the new language of “mature” believers. Tearing down of the old structures (which were built by the tearing down of older structures) seems to feed some deep need to feel superior in faith. I feel like through sarcasm and satire people are communicating a message of, “Look at me, my relationship with God is deep enough I can see what’s wrong with the system and make fun of it.” The irony of it all is that by highlighting this I’m bordering on being guilty of the exact same thing. <sigh> Lord help us.

I value language and culture, and think that part of Christianity is to develop a Christ centered culture.  In that way it will be neccissary to develop a language of faith (yes Justin, you started me down this path of thinking).  It won’t be the same words we use in the rest of life just like mathmaticians, musicians, gang members, and politicians all have their own unique words and phrases that they use to communicate what is important to them.  What should set us apart is not that we dumb down our language or exclude ‘religious talk’ from our worship and community life – but that we do not speak with an expectation that everyone speaks our language.  Making space for dumb questions is key, and I believe that comes from leaders who are willing to ask themselves the dumb questions.  Like, what exactly is sanctification or propitiation?  Why do those words matter as they are found in scripture?  Is there a better word that still holds the weight but may be more appropriate for today?  When I was working with youth I often introduced and defined these words as part of the lessons.  Our faith should engage our whole person, and part of engaging our minds is learning and challenging the language of faith.  First learning the words, then asking the questions, and finally deciding if we should keep the old words or if there is need to move from “all who pissith against the wall” to “all the men”.

A deep conviction that also comes from my belief in the power of words and language is that of the necessity of words encouragement to be prominent in our churches (Church in the Basement sent me down this path).  Our culture is full of voices that tear us down by saying, “You’re not smart” or “You look funny.” Voices of sarcasm that leave us wondering how much of what was said is truth. Voices that are “only joking” but pierce our deepest insecurities and leave us unable to speak out our hurt because the voice that brought our fears to the light was not a healing voice but one that said our pain was a joke. Of all the people in the world, we must be those who have voices that pierce the darkness with care and calculated risk.  Words that come in with confident purpose to be a salve to the wounded or a sword to the proud.  Words that are love and truth, and are birthed out of a relationship with the Father.  Words that set out to edify, encourage, and lift up.

The Gospel

May 27, 2009

“Our gospel is not the gospel unless it is good news to everyone.”

I think this statement has caused me to examine my faith more than anything else I’ve ever come up with or read.  Very likely I stole it from someone smarter and wiser than me but it has sunk to such depths in my heart that it compels me to find people and places that challenge my gospel with their culture, condition, and personality. It leads me to ask questions like: Can my gospel be presented to the rich and the poor? Is it freedom for those oppressed by corporate America and those who will die of starvation today? Does it matter to the urban poor and the middle class? Is the language of my gospel accessible to an un-churched, Hispanic, junior high youth?  Is it hope to the mentally handicapped?

I’m still not able to answer very many of those questions, but I’m trying.  There are a few things I have figured out. The gospel we present must be simple and deep.  It must be refreshing to the weary and freeing to the burdened. It must be the explanation and invitation into the gift of the crucified and risen Christ.  We have to present it out of excitement rather than requirement, and if we aren’t excited about it then we need to re-engage the story through prayer and scripture until we burn once again.  Those who hear our message should walk away knowing that they have heard a deep message of love from someone who cares for them about a God who cares even more.  Conviction is a work of the Spirit, and I believe it comes when a soul is laid bare in front of incomprehensible grace.  We proclaim that grace – the Spirit lays bare the soul.

My brothers and sisters, we are heralds of the good news.  Sharing with others should be exhilarating rather than debilitating.  It should be a natural outcome of a life abandoned to Christ.  And calling disciples into Kingdom living should be a natural product of the church reaching out in love to places where only the Gospel can give hope.  I say this mostly to invite you into my personal struggle to make the previous three sentences a reality in my life.

I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.

John 17:23 (ESV, emphasis added)

Jesus was perfect, and the Father loved him perfectly.
We are imperfect, and the Father loved us perfectly.

Wow.

“Then the Lord awoke as from sleep,
like a strong man shouting because of wine.”

Psalm 78:65

I invited you into my ponderings of this passage a few weeks ago and I thought I would share where my personal reflections went.  I was initially disturbed by the image of God portrayed like a drunk because one who is under the influence of alcohol is usually considered as operating outside of their own control.  However, as I talked this out with people I thought of my internal reaction to being in the presence of a strong, loud, drunk.  I’m a little guy, and I thought of times when I had been around a person a foot taller and over 100lbs heaver than I when they were full of strong drink.  There was no reasoning with this person.  If he decided to do something I was utterly powerless to stop him.  No eloquent words, or impressive argument, or physical threat would have the slightest impact on his decision.  That thought captivated me in relationship to this passage.  What if part of the reason for this image of God was to remind us of our inability to influence God?  God described in similarity to being big, loud, and drunk is bringing a new dimension to the reality that God is fully outside of my control.  That when He chooses to act on His own I am utterly insignificant in halting His actions.  All illusions of control are taken away.  It’s scary enough to realize there is nothing you can do to stop a person who is drunk.  It is terrifying to realize that when God chooses to act without us we really are powerless to stop Him.  I’m growing in the conviction that to fear God rightly is to realize His potential to act without us and His divine grace that invites us into co-labor with Him.

Just my thoughts at present.  Reactions or responses?