"Lacking in Nothing"

“Mature and complete, lacking in nothing.” - This is how the book of James describes a person who has endured life’s trials, and with faith come through them with a new understanding and perspective.

I love that phrase as a definition of a “mature” person: “lacking in nothing.” Maturity has very little to do with how old you are. And “spiritual” maturity has very little to do with how long you may have been a Christian.

Spiritual maturity has everything to do with realizing that in God you have what you need, that you are indeed lacking in nothing. It may require us to adjust our definitions of “need” and “want,” however. And perhaps this is where our youngest sisters and brothers can teach us.

One rainy night years ago, driving home in the dark, in the rain, with the family in the mini-van with me, I realized that every kid was sound asleep. They were not in the least bit anxious about slick roads or poor visibility or the possibility of an accident. I felt the burden of their trust heavily upon my shoulders, and I got them home safely.

And that moment taught me a little bit about what I need versus what I want. That my kids could sleep meant that they had what they needed in that moment, regardless of anything else. And significantly, it wasn’t a sparkly toy or flashy gadget that allowed them that rest, it was their trust. In that moment, they lacked in nothing.

Sometimes it feels like life is just an endless campaign. We are always seeking the next thing, the newer thing, the nicer thing, the more expensive thing. It seems we are rarely content with what we have, and always pushing for more. I believe this to be a profoundly immature worldview.

Rather, “speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ,” and understand that in Christ we have enough. Spiritual maturity is the assurance of wholeness, security in the promises of God that we know in Jesus and are illuminated by the Holy Spirit.

Jesus Christ, Barrier Buster

Every time Jesus discovered a barrier, he removed it.

The money tables in the Temple were barriers making it more difficult for people to worship God. Jesus overturned them.

The law prevented the blind and the lame from being in the Temple at all. Jesus not only invited them in, he healed them.

A social stigma devalued children in the ancient near eastern culture. It is the children who, with palm branches in hand, proclaim him the “Son of David.”

In fact, breaking down barriers was a central part of Jesus’s entire ministry, and a core value of the Gospel message itself. It is expressed in many ways, perhaps none more eloquent than Paul’s affirmation: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

Easter removes the ultimate barrier - death itself.  The power of the resurrection tears the curtain of the Temple in two, removes once and for all the barrier of death, and reveals the promise of life abundant and everlasting.

Death has a power that is based in fear, uncertainty, anxiety. Death confronts us with our limitations, our finitude, our sin. These are barriers to living life as fully as God desires us to. In his resurrection, Jesus removes that final barrier, and thereby empowers us to live fully, so that all creation might flourish as God intends.

Are there barriers that need removing in the world today? What “tables” are keeping people from worship? What “law” is keeping people away from the church? What “social stigmas” are preventing outcast groups from proclaiming Christ? Where is today’s “temple curtain?”

The power of the resurrection is a force to be reckoned with. Wielding it, Christ continues to break down the barriers that confront the world. May we as the church, empowered by the Holy Spirit, continue Christ’s resurrection mission in all we say, in all we do, and in everything that we are.

Knowing Jesus

When Jesus asked Peter, “Who do say that I am?” Peter replied, “You are the Messiah.”

Peter “got it!” He knew Jesus well, and knew who he was. Peter identified Jesus as the Messiah before anyone else did, and what’s more he said it out loud. He claimed it boldly, and Jesus responded to him with words of blessing.

Immediately after this incident, Jesus told his disciples the plan. He would go to Jerusalem, undergo great suffering, and be killed. And Peter replied, “God forbid! Surely there’s another way we could do this, Lord?”

Peter “didn’t get it.” He knew Jesus, but he didn’t see the full picture, much less concur with the plan. Peter couldn’t abide the thought of Jesus suffering and being killed. He voiced his opposition, and Jesus responded again.

But these were not words of blessing; this was a curse. “Get behind me! You are Satan! You are a stumbling block to me!”

Whoa - harsh.

What happened there? How did Peter get is so right one moment and so very wrong the next? How could Peter have understood so much about Jesus and yet at the very same time understood so very little about him?

The truth is, there are times you and I get it right, too. There are times that God seems very close to us and following Jesus is energizing and joyful. And there are times we fail. We can’t find God anywhere and it feels as if we’ve forgotten all we’ve ever known about Jesus and what it means to follow him.

We are Peter. Knowing Jesus doesn’t mean we are perfect, it just means we know Jesus. And that’s a pretty good deal, because knowing Jesus means we don’t HAVE to be perfect to be forgiven, to be blessed. Knowing Jesus means we do not have to be perfect to be loved.

Life is Too Short ...

Complete this sentence: “Life is too short to … “

How did you finish it? “ … hold a grudge?” “... be boring?” “... worry?” Or maybe something practical, like “...drink bad coffee?”

The Beatles think that “life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friends.” That’s a line from their 1965 #1 hit, “We Can Work It Out.”

What if we could all adopt that attitude? How would the world change if more people believed that life is just too short to fuss and fight with one another?

Or, as the apostle Paul might put it, what if more people would “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Actually it isn’t that Paul “might” put it that way. It’s that he DID. That’s in the book of Ephesians, right at the beginning of chapter 4.

A life “worthy of the calling” of Christ is much too short “for fussing and fighting, my friends!”

Why does it seem to be so difficult for people to avoid animosity? Maybe it is because we think “unity” means the same thing as “uniformity,” and that means if we’re not in lock-step agreement with one another, we must be bitter enemies?

I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that life is far too short to think that way. I’d rather work it out. Life is very short; surely we can work it out!

Kids Are Church, Too

One of the foundational principles by which I live is that each person matters. Every single individual is worth something, just because they are. People are of inherent value, not because of utility or potential or who they might become; but simply because they are somebody - right here and now.

As such I devote much of my energy to counteracting anything that says otherwise, and affirming those who seem to be especially diminished in the eyes of the world.

Children, for example.

Is there any group of human beings more soundly devalued than children? Even when we try to affirm their worth, we usually do so by saying that they are “our future.” That happens in the church all the time. “Those kids are the future of the church,” we say with a condescending smile, usually while also noting how “cute” they are.

Please stop. Children are not objects for you to ogle. Children are not of value only in the future. Children are human beings, with thoughts and feelings and ideas and opinions of their own. They matter right now, because they are here right now, and we need to stop treating them like they WILL matter in a few years, but acknowledge that they are worth something for this present time.

Sunday is “Children’s Sunday” at Campbell, and we will celebrate the children of the church, not as the “future of the church,” but as the vital and vibrant present.

I hope you grown-ups will be there to worship with your youngest sisters and brothers in Christ!

The Altar of Struggle

Arguably the most notorious altar Abraham built was the one upon which he nearly sacrificed his son Isaac. To tell you the truth, I’d rather this altar was omitted from Scripture altogether. The story sure would be a lot easier to read.

But it’s in there. And since it’s in there, we’d best give it a go. I mean, it may be a struggle - but just because something involves struggle doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t do it, right? Especially if that “something” is our reading of God’s Holy Word.

In fact, the struggle itself can be an altar. Struggle can be sacred space. Often times our struggles are the moments in which God is most fully present with us, strengthening us, guiding us, helping us get through one moment at a time.

Frederick Douglass said, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” Indeed if everything comes easily to us, we tend to become complacent, lethargic, and apathetic. We expect to grow without doing the work that leads to growth.

I’m sure that Abraham struggled as he walked with Isaac to the place that infamous altar would be built; he would not have been human if he had not. And in that struggle, he grew even closer to God.

I’m sure that you have struggled in your walk of faith; I assure you that I have. And in that struggle, we grow closer to God, and closer to becoming the people God wants us to be.

A Grace Embassy

I have frequently heard people say, “I love Jesus, but I don’t need the church.” It is a trendy notion these days. A video titled “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus” was posted in January 2012; it has over 25 million views and people still leave numerous (mostly rude) comments every day.

It is illuminating that a response video titled “Why I Love Religion, And Love Jesus” has a mere 760,000 views. Clearly not quite as virally popular as the original. (Although this video also has similarly rude comments being posted daily.)

To tell you the truth, I often sympathize with the Pro-Jesus / Anti-Church point of view. Many times the one who holds such a view has been hurt, ostracized, judged, or otherwise treated quite poorly by someone in the church. This genuinely painful experience is then projected onto “the church” as a whole.

At the same time, I know that there are people who use the idea as a rationalization to perpetuate their own comfortable lives. Often the one who does so will use terms like “irrelevant” and “old-fashioned” to describe church. Following Jesus is relegated to a consumer-driven search for what works for me, what fits into my calendar, and what’s the latest fad being shared on pinterest.

In the first chapter of John, Jesus calls Andrew whose immediate response is to go and invite Simon to follow him, as well. Jesus then calls Philip, who immediately goes to Nathanael and invites him along, too. It seems to me that “the church” started forming pretty quickly after Jesus started calling. Maybe there’s something to the notion that Jesus didn’t really intend for us to try to follow him all on our own.

It is when the church forgets that we are supposed to be helping people follow Jesus and becomes something else - ANYTHING else - that we get into trouble. The church is neither a self-help group, a community action agency, a social club, nor a status symbol. And I would add, the church is not a disciple making factory, as many seem to think.

The church is the embassy of God’s grace in the world, and members of the church are Christ’s ambassadors. The church doesn’t have a mission; God has a mission. And it is for the sake of that mission that we are the church.

Called

You might call it the call that started it all - the call of Abram. He would become known as Abraham, which means in Hebrew, “The Father of a Multitude.” In fact his story is a part of several different world religions, including Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Baha’i.

Into this one life, which was by all accounts a rather ordinary one, God spoke. God called, and Abram heard. The call was to go to the place God was sending him. God gave no further detail than that.

“Go, Abram. Pick yourself and your family up from where you are now and go to where you will be when you get there.”

God’s portion of this call would be to bless Abram, make his name great, and through him extend the blessing to all the families of the earth. God wasn't very clear on the details at this point, either.

“I will bless you, and through you, bless the world.”

It was so fuzzy. No flowcharts. No five year plan. No specific, measurable, attainable goals, much less any means for reporting them to the conference office. Just a call to go, and a promise to bless.

And you know what the most extraordinary thing is? This: “So Abram went, as the Lord had told him.”

The call that started it all was a call to trust, to humility, to a faith that had to be at peace with uncertainty. Abram followed without knowing the details, or even the desired outcomes. He was called, and he went.

An ordinary person, an extraordinary life. The call was, “Go.” And Abram went.

Neither Young Nor Old

One of my favorite passages of Scripture is, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28, NRSV).

And if I could edit the Bible (wouldn’t we all like to do THAT from time to time?), I would add “there is no longer young or old.” Though we cannot edit Scripture, it is clear to me that the idea I would insert is indeed present, if not explicitly stated.

In “earthly” terms, we talk about old people and young people all the time. The church’s latest institutional lament is how we are aging, soon to be dying off, and in desperate need of young people who will save the church.

My practical response to this lament is, That’s an awful lot of pressure to put on “young people,” and a pretty ineffective invitational strategy, anyway. “Hey there, young person! Come and be a part of this church, we are starting to panic about whether or not we will survive as an institution and we just know that you are going to be our salvation!” Um … no thanks.

My theological response to this lament is, In the Church there is no longer young or old, for all are one in Christ Jesus. It makes me a bit uncomfortable, as an old person, to surrender any evangelical capacity I might have to the younger generations. Why should I be allowed to yield my missional responsibility, just because I’m not in the designated demographic?

The church is a multi-generational body, and the truth is that all who follow Jesus, no matter what age, must faithfully pattern our lives in discipleship, including reaching out to invite others to be a part of the abundant life made known in Christ Jesus and made manifest in the church.

It is true that we old folks need the younger ones; it is equally true that the younger folks need us old fogies. This is not an either-or proposition, for “all are one in Christ Jesus.” 

Confirmation Sensation

A year ago at this time, right after the Confirmation Worship Service of 2011, a dad came up to our Youth Director to ask a question. He wanted to know when the Confirmation Service was going to be set for 2012.

His son was going to be confirmed, and he wanted to make sure they kept the weekend clear.

A year ahead.

And yesterday, his son was among the twenty-one young people who were confirmed in an amazing worship celebration at Campbell United Methodist Church. Ten of those young people were baptized, and six family members joined the church along with their confirmand.

Nobody has to become a member of a church. It is not required for salvation. Neither pastors nor parents can force anyone to join a church. It is a choice, freely made by the individual. It is a public declaration of faithfulness and discipleship. It is a declaration that you are going to Live, Grow, and Share as an active part of the church.

Joining a church is saying out loud, “YES! I am a follower of Jesus and I am going to live my pattern of discipleship as a part of this congregation.” It is something that you say to God, witnessed by the congregation, and fulfilled in your own life.

At the “Talking Box” on Sunday, the kids were given party favors and made a joyful noise in celebration of this year’s confirmation class. After the confirmation liturgy, members of the class served the congregation the sacrament of Holy Communion. The service ended with “Praise ye the Lord, Alleluia! Everybody praise the Lord!” accompanied by organ and praise band together, and the rafters practically shook with the singing of the people!

It was an amazing worship service, and a fitting celebration for the congregation’s confirmation service. And so this year’s fifth graders might want to start making plans now for your Sunday next year, because you know it’s going to be quite a party!

The Mystery of Death

I have prayed the prayer
literally hundreds of times
and I will pray it hundreds more.

“Give to us now your grace, that as
we shrink before the mystery of death,
we may see the light of eternity.”

We shrink.
Before the mystery.
Of death.

We shrink. God grows.

We are finite.
God is eternal.

Is it only as we shrink
that we gain the perspective
which allows us to see
the flicker of eternal light?

We shrink. The mystery.
Death.

New "Year" Resolutions? HA! How about some "NEW LIFE RESOLUTIONS"

There are three stairways. They are called “Live,” “Grow,” and “Share.” Together, they form the framework of a healthy Pattern of Discipleship.

Each stairway is vital to a holistic life of Christian discipleship; spending too much time on any one stairway results in discipleship that is out of balance. Walking a stairway means participating in the practices of the congregation: “Live” is Worship; “Grow” is Faith Formation and Fellowship; and “Share” is Mission and Service, Generosity, and Hospitality.

The turn of a calendar is a perfect time to examine your own discipleship, and “resolve” to improve your pattern where it is needed. Ask yourself:
- Am I “LIVING” by worshiping every week and praying every day?
- Am I “GROWING” by participating in an ongoing study or class and by intentionally developing my relationships with others?
- Am I “SHARING” by serving those in need and by giving selflessly of my resources and by continually inviting others into a relationship with God?

The ads we see these days try to define our “New Year Resolutions” for us – lose weight, quit smoking, get personal finances on track, and so forth. What if we let Christ define what our New Year Resolutions should be instead of the corporate sector? We could call them “New Life Resolutions.”

Not “lose ten pounds” but rather “attend worship every week.” Not “join a gym” but rather “take a Wednesday evening Connect class. Not “watch less TV” but rather “invite one friend a month to come to church with me.” I’m not saying those other things aren’t good; they are. I’m just saying, if we’re going to use the excuse of a new calendar to improve ourselves anyway, we might as well do so in our Christian discipleship, also.

What are your “NEW LIFE RESOLUTIONS” going to be for 2011?

At Halftime of Advent

Entering the third week of Advent, I find that I have been given an opportunity to pause and reflect on where we’ve been and what we’ve done. Never mind that the opportunity has been given to me by the cold I caught, as my body told me loud and clear, “Slow down a bit, I can’t quite keep up with you.”

Regardless of the source of this gift, I am taking the morning to just think about the phenomenal congregation called Campbell United Methodist Church, and the amazing things that I have witnessed in the last couple of weeks. Powerful worship; innovative and interactive seasonal devotions; generous alternative gift giving; beautiful and creative decorating; dedicated and diligent children, youth, and their amazing adult volunteers; hard-working singers and instrumentalists making extra preparations; dozens of disciples engaged in special mission and service in Springfield and beyond. There have been baptisms to celebrate, people becoming members of the congregation, generous gifts given to Imagine and our United Methodist apportionment, and so much quiet, behind-the-scenes servanthood that I couldn’t even begin to attempt to list it all.

All of that is layered on top of the vital, ongoing ministries of the congregation that comprise the three stairways in the pattern of discipleship – Live, Grow, and Share. In the midst of the Advent celebration, we continue in worship, faith development, fellowship, mission and service, generosity, and hospitality, walking the six practices of discipleship in their ever deepening pattern.

And all of that is just the first half of the season; the second two weeks of Advent and the twelve days that make up the season of Christmas are still ahead! I encourage you to pause and reflect every now and then, and please do not wait until you have caught a cold to do so! And take a look at the calendar of the congregation for the next few weeks, to participate in the wonder and mystery of this holy season, celebrating the active presence of God at work all around us.

Children's Church?

How many times has someone said, “I am so glad to see all of these children, because they are the future of the church”? I know I have. And on the surface, that is an accurate statement. I am indeed hopeful that the children in our congregation today will still be the church in the future.

But with that said, it must also be noted that children are more than just the future of the church, they are also the PRESENT of the church. They are here now, and are vital and vibrant members of the congregation in the present moment. We have to be careful not to relegate children to the future alone, for to do so denies their sacred worth in the here and now.

What would happen if we all decided to honor the inherent worth of children, instead of trying to mold them into smaller versions of ourselves? What would happen if we began to value children for who they really are, instead of considering them to be charming accessories to our community? Would we perhaps take more notice of, and work harder to alleviate their suffering?

The prophet Jeremiah has written, “In those days they shall no longer say, ‘The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.’” (31:29) Although it is no longer a common theological perspective that believes God punishes children for parental sins (see John 9), it is hard to deny that children often suffer for bad decisions that adults make.

The United States of America ranks #1 in the world in the number of billionaires.
In the United States of America a child is born into poverty every 32 seconds.

The words of the prophet announce with boldness that this is not God’s desire. “In those days” is a phrase that points us toward the fulfillment of the reign of God, at which moment children will be released from suffering the consequences of their parents’ (and other adults’) decisions.

For the next two weeks in our worship services, we will celebrate children – not as the future of the church, but as the here and now. “…For it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

Communion: The Holy Polyseme

I learned a new word today. Polysemy. It means "a diversity of meanings." Isn't that a cool word? It seems to me that a lot of things that have to do with faith and God and religion and church are polysemic. For example, the sacrament of Holy Communion.

World Communion Sunday is this week. That means not only will we have the holy privilege of celebrating the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper in worship, but we do so knowing that Christians all around the world will be sharing the Eucharist meal together on one remarkable day.

I like to imagine a wave of Holy Communion sweeping over the world, as the planet spins into the sunrise and Christians gather together in one time zone after another. Our sacrament in Springfield has been preceded by the sacrament happening to the east, and will be followed by the sacrament as it happens to the west. It is like a “grace wave” that washes the world with its gentle strength, one bite of bread and sip of juice at a time.

To prepare for this week, I asked the congregation some prayerful questions in my newsletter article …

What does the sacrament of Holy Communion mean to you, personally? What do you bring with you to the table? Is the meal simply a symbol? What does it symbolize? Is it a historic reenactment of a moment Jesus shared with his friends? Is it a foreshadowing of the heavenly banquet table God is preparing for all people? Is it an entry point for the grace of God into your life? Is it a time of shaping the communal identity of the church? Is it something else altogether?

Of course, any of my questions could be answered in the affirmative. The truth is, Holy Communion is all of those things and more. The event has shades of meaning that emerge differently for different people. And similarly, Communion can mean something different to you at one point in your life than it might mean at another point. That means the sacrament is kind of a “Holy Polyseme.” It is one of the numerous polysemic aspects of Christianity.

It's too bad the ambiguity apparent in polysemic things makes people so uncomfortable. This discomfort leads us to strive for monosemy, the fact of having only one meaning. Of course, problems arise when my monosemy doesn't match your monosemy! We then have a choice to make; we either fight about it until the winner gets to declare his or her monosemy to be correct, or we agree that the thing we are fighting over may very well be a polysemic situation.

See how great this word is? So useful.

Please don't read this as a blanket affirmation of any and all perspectives. I am comfortable with ambiguity, but not all ambiguity is created equal, if you know what I mean. For example, I am not remotely tolerant of perspectives that are harmful to another person. So if a child is being abused, I will in no way shape or form say, "Well that's just another person's definition discipline. It's not how I would do it, but hey, they're entitled to their point of view." No way! I'll stick up for the kid, every single time.

There is a place for certainty and a time to say, "This is not right!" or "That's just how it is, period." Part of spiritual, emotional, and social maturity is discerning when those times are.

Holy Communion is not one of those. It's meaning is richly polysemic, and I love every bit of it! And this coming Sunday is one of my favorites, every year. Just thinking about the significance of a global sharing in the sacrament, so many millions of souls gathered around Christ's table together ... wow!

Lost / Found

In Luke 15, Jesus tells a series of parables about being found: one sheep out of a hundred, one coin out of ten, and one prodigal son who “was lost and has been found.” In each parable, an extraordinary effort is made for the sake of the one who is lost, an effort that seems disproportionate to the rest of the story.

A shepherd leaves 99 perfectly okay sheep behind to find one stray. A woman sweeps up her whole house to find a coin and throws a party for her neighbors when she does. And speaking of parties, a father puts on a blow-out fiesta celebration for a son who squandered his entire inheritance.

Why the imbalance? Surely it isn’t fair to the 99 sheep who stayed home! Surely the woman can make do with 9 coins out of 10! Surely the older brother deserves just as big a party as his irresponsible, prodigal sibling! I mean, come on! *Stamp foot indignantly*

Of course, as understandable as such indignation may be, it only serves to emphasize the larger lessons Jesus is teaching in these parables. He tells them in response to a challenge; namely, that he “welcomes sinners and eats with them” (v. 2). And rather than say simply, “Well, of course I do; that’s kind of why I’m here!” he tells a series of parables designed to help us figure that out for ourselves.

What we see is determined by where we are standing. Grace may create indignation for the 99 sheep who stay in the fold, but for the one who is lost, there is no greater bliss than realizing the shepherd has come looking for you!

Reconciliation

The “Letter of Paul to Philemon” is a short book of the Bible tucked into the late part of the New Testament; if you blink you’ll miss it. But it is a powerful letter that is the backdrop for a story of a fresh start, a second chance made possible by the grace of God.

Philemon and Onesimus had been estranged; the letter does not reveal the reason. Paul is now writing to Philemon to encourage him to reconcile with Onesimus, to be in relationship again, as a beloved brother.

There is power in reconciliation. In the same way that forgiveness does not condone the preceding harm, reconciliation does not ignore the estrangement that precedes it. Reconciliation simply moves on from there. Reconciliation is a fresh start on a relationship that carries its baggage along for the journey.

With whom do you need to sense the power of reconciliation? A family member you’ve been fighting with? A friend you haven’t seen in weeks or months? There’s no need to pretend that the estrangement didn’t happen. In fact to do so would be unhealthy. Why not take a risk, reach out to them, and let them know you still love them?

The baggage of the estrangement will be heavy at first, but over time it will lighten. The burden will grow less and less as the relationship is nurtured in grace, until it will be all but imperceptible. And then you will be so much closer to living the life God desires for you.

When we are struck by grace, we can only barely begin to imagine the possibilities of what God might do.

First Stone

Here's what I wrote for my newsletter article this week:

I have a stone on my desk. I got it a long time ago, so the writing on it is faded a lot. But you can still just barely make it out, if you look closely and squint.

It says, “First.”

I keep it close to me, to remind me of the story from John, chapter 8, where Jesus calmly addresses an angry mob saying, “Let anyone among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”

I keep that stone on my desk because there are times that I really, really want to metaphorically hurl it in the direction of some person with whom I am angry, or who I feel is in the wrong somehow, or even sometimes who is just bugging me. Most of the time I can catch myself before I let loose; a glance at the “first stone” on my desk will remind me of that shocking story in John 8.

That story is shocking not because an innocent woman was about to be stoned by a crowd. It is shocking precisely because the woman really was guilty of the sin the crowd had accused her of, and yet Jesus himself did not condemn her. Earlier in the Gospel, John has reminded us that Jesus did not come into the world to condemn the word, but to save it (3:17).

And so, if Jesus himself did not come to condemn guilty people, but to forgive … maybe we should try to follow that lead. It’s funny, isn’t it? We can see ourselves in the crowd, we can see ourselves as the woman forgiven; but how often do we see ourselves as Jesus? How often do we realize that Jesus doesn’t condemn the would-be stone throwers, either?

To borrow a well-worn cliché, it’s either forgiveness or it’s not. Or said another way, forgiveness is either there for everyone or no one. Now, that would be a shock!





As usual, I've been thinking about it a lot since I wrote it. What came to mind this morning was this - we often use forgiveness as a schlocky self-help technique, and remain blissfully unaware of the raw power of grace. How often do we say, "You've got to forgive others ... " or "The hardest thing to do is forgive yourself, but you have to ... " so that YOU will feel better?

It is as if my act of forgiveness is intended only to erase my emotional response to some event that has offended me, and make everything my-pretty-pony shiny and happy again. The more I think about it, the harder it is to swallow.

Our model for forgiveness is Jesus. He did not forgive others for his own benefit. His forgiveness was given so that the one who was guilty would be set free to live a new life. His oft repeated nudge to "go and sin no more" at the end of so many episodes reveals his desire that the one who has been forgiven is now expected to live differently. Sin matters to Jesus, and his standard operating procedure is not to beat people up with how sinful they are, but to forgive them and then release them to do better from here on out.

Another thing I'm thinking about - I absolutely LOVE to throw stones at stone throwers. You know what I mean? When I percieve that stone throwing is happening, I am happy to wade into the fray, if not outwardly, at least in my mind, and often in long gripe sessions to the captive audience of my wife! But in this story, Jesus does not throw any stones himself. His desire seems to be to set the would-be stone throwers themselves free to live a new life, as well.

That's hard for me. Because there are times, when harm is being done, that we have got to stop it from happening. And there are times when the most effective way to stop it is to directly confront the one doing harm. And yet there is no denying that, in John 8, Jesus' approach was effective; he prevented the stoning from happening, got the crowd to confront their own sinfulness, and charged the woman to go and live a new life. Not that I am surprised that his approach worked; he is, after all ... well ... Jesus.

I don't have a pithy conclusion to all this musing. It's just musing, working things out, trying to figure out what questions I need to ask. I would love to hear any thoughts that you might have about forgiveness, condemnation, passing judgement, and the power of grace. To be continued...

The High Life

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” (Colossians 3:2)

When an athlete is experiencing a particularly good streak, she is often said to have “elevated her game.” Or sometimes we would say he has “taken it to the next level.”

Of course, the athlete in question is still on the same plane, feet on the same field as the rest of us, but we use the metaphor of elevation to describe something better. Higher is, generally speaking, better – at least when it comes to metaphors.

So it is with the verse from Colossians above, and the idea of God being “up there” somewhere above us. Of course we don’t really believe that God is “up” but we use the metaphor of “up” to describe and address God. How many of us have gazed upward at some point in order to lament, “Why me, Lord?”

God is all around, within and among, above and below and in between. “There Is No Place Where God Is Not,” reads the first line of a Charles Haddon Spurgeon poem. God is everywhere, not just “above” us. When this scripture calls us to look above in order to find Christ, I think it is using the real direction as a metaphor for “better.” Simply put, when we follow Jesus we are supposed to live better lives than when we do not.

And what does this “high life” look like? Paul paints a picture with words later in the chapter: compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness, and above all, LOVE! Love is the force that runs throughout the elevated life in Christ, that “binds everything together in perfect harmony.”

Elevate your game. Elevate your life. Seek that which is above, where Christ is.
This Sunday, we’re going to talk about Elevation.

Mandela, Invictus, and Loving Enemies

Sunday was Nelson Mandela’s ninety-second birthday. Even a cursory reading of his biography amazes and astounds. Imagine being imprisoned for 27 years, then upon being released finding it within yourself to forgive the people who held you prisoner.

In Matthew 5:44, Jesus says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Mandela, experiencing adversity and persecution for his whole life, somehow found it within himself to show love and respect to people who otherwise might be his enemies. The movie Invictus explores one way he did that, and convinced so many others to do so, as well.

“Love your enemies.” It is surely one of the most difficult things Christians are supposed to do, isn’t it? We would much rather love the ones who love us in return. And of course, it’s not that Jesus doesn’t want us to do that, but rather that loving people who love you is kind of a no-brainer, anyway. As he puts it (with a bit of a wry grin, I imagine), “Even tax collectors do THAT!”

To truly be doing what Jesus wants us to do, we have to love “enemies,” a very strong word indeed. It means “hated” or “odious” or “hateful.” One who is “hostile” and “opposing another.” Not just annoying or grumpy or bitter people (although to be sure, we are supposed to love them too!), but people who are openly hateful. Whoa!

It is staggering enough to think of such an idea personally, but then consider inspiring others to think the same way, as Nelson Mandela did, and we are left shaking our heads. But if we are to take the Great Commission seriously, to “make disciples” of all, that is exactly what we are supposed to be doing – not only loving others as Jesus loves, but inspiring others to do likewise.

Well, let’s get to work!