Sample text from Introduction

14 06 2012

 

Here are the first few paragraphs of the Introduction of my new resource: The Amazing Potential of One Surrendered Church.

WHAT CAN ONE CHURCH DO?

In many parts of the world there are so many churches that it would be easy to think that many of them, especially the average ones, are not that important—that we could lose a few hundred of them and not feel the difference.

The importance of one solitary church is often lost because its effects in the surrounding community, or around the world, are not investigated and recorded. We forget what God has done in the past, and don’t yet know what present efforts will produce in the future. And of course we give little thought to the intangible, immeasurable effects which a church can bring in the heavenly places. We wrongly think that all our victories are visible, earthly.

As church leaders, we find our energies demanded by daily operations of church life, making it difficult to see the larger impact of our small endeavors. Consequently our prayers and planning do not reflect the glory of what God is doing through us. We fail to see and celebrate the future potential of today’s obedience.

The solutions we often seek are new methodologies that have worked in another place and promise to work for us. But these may bring answers to questions we are not asking, solutions to problems we have not encountered.

All of these considerations point us back to simpler times when there were not so many voices giving us their advice, times which remind us that the unchanging Holy Spirit will still activate and use churches of all sorts, in varieties of ways.

Most churches need to be inspired by God’s view of their existence and their efforts. They long to be reminded that the Church is itself a miracle, and that it is wondrous because God designed it and inhabits it.

ANTIOCH

Because of attention given to rapidly growing churches today, declining or maintaining churches can easily feel inferior. Due to the emphasis on numerical growth, the small or medium-sized church can too easily think of itself as failing.

Then along comes a story of a church that presents a model that is different than those which many esteem today. We don’t have any attendance figures for this church. Their budget is a non-issue. As for their facility, they likely didn’t have one. But we can’t ignore this church because, despite its unimpressiveness by many of today’s standards, it proved to be one of the single most significant churches ever. Plus it’s in the Bible!

From the church at Antioch, we receive hope that any and every church has a chance at greatness beyond its own resources. By finding its role and playing it the way Antioch did, a church today can accomplish more in God’s harvest field than it ever dreamed possible. Here is why. Greatness for your church has little to do with buildings, budgets and attendance and more to do with responding obediently to each step God asks you to take. It is about playing the specific role God wants you to play in your community, one that is unique to you, different even from the church down the street. It is about knowing why your church is there in that particular place, at this specific time, and stepping out in faith in response to the opportunity you have and the guidance God gives to you.

Antioch sat in the shadow of Jerusalem, the mega-church with its thousands of attenders and famous leaders. It sprouted as a fragile upstart amidst the towering weeds of Antioch’s Roman paganism, not enjoying the religious climate of Jerusalem with its Temple and worship lifestyle. When it began, Antioch’s only claim to fame was the trouble it might cause. (No one had ever birthed a church among Gentiles. Was this even supposed to happen?)

It soon became evident that Antioch was definitely supposed to happen and, more than that, God was very much in favor of this small, upstart church.

Antioch shows that God is eager to use the offbeat church that may have a dubious beginning or a less-than-stellar history. In fact, the assembly at Antioch shows us how one church, led into a higher level of surrender, can attain a quiet greatness and expanding impact.





Hidden in Christ — practically

28 05 2012

A major theme in my spiritual journey of the last few years has been the way God continually brings us through cycles of death-burial-resurrection in order to conform us to the image of His Son. This post delves into that a bit.

For the person who has, through conversion to Jesus, died to his own life agenda — in effect being crucified with Christ — that person, when yielded to God will be compelled to live out the life of the resurrected Jesus. How will this gospel, in its death, burial and resurrection, display itself? Paul develops this, by inspiration of the Spirit, in his Colossian letter. Let’s consider the first four verses of chapter three.

Christ our life

As we live out the gospel, the focus of our life is on God and His life. Our reason for living is not earth-bound, not material, but heavenly and eternal. “If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God” (Col. 3:1, NKJV).

All the capacities of our mind increasingly align with this Godward focus. Our ambitions (those dreams of achievement) now lean into God. Our decisions (the evaluative processes and resultant judgments) now draw from God’s perspective. Our values (the core of what we hold true and lasting) now come from our life in Christ in whom we are permanently secured. As Paul puts it, “Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth.” And again the reason is that the gospel is now the pattern of our growth spiritually: “For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:2-3).

In the big, end-time view (the eschatalogical view) the resurrection aspect of the gospel re-emerges on earth with the re-appearance of Christ in glory. That will be the time of reward for our death and burial with Christ — the sufferings and willing self-denials of our earthly life — for we will share in the unveiling of Christ’s glory. In fact we will be a part of amplifying His glory! “When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory” (Col. 3:4). [The “who is” is supplied by the translators. I prefer the bluntness of the Greek, “Christ our life.”]

But there are many foretastes of this glory in the meantime as our death-to-self leads to manifestation of the character of Jesus in us. Our ongoing conformity to Christ is a present glory that points to the coming breakout of glory when in His presence we will be fully conformed to Him, for we will see Him as He is!

So what do we take away from this?

First, this is what God is working on in our lives. This is His gospel agenda for growing us, perfecting us. Through our consumption of the Word, through our experiences (mostly difficult), through our community life, God causes the Jesus-life to take increasing prominence in us. That is reassuring, and a source of understanding. It helps us figure out why some things happen to us and those we care about.

Second, Jesus looms much larger in our everyday life. He is not up in heaven sipping lemonade. He is, by His Spirit, living His life through us. “Christ our life” means He is the sphere in which we find existence and vitality.

Third, the condition of our health cannot detract from this reality. In fact, the suffering we may endure in our physical body may enhance the reality of the gospel in us, because it forces us to cast ourselves on the life of Jesus rather than relying on what we can accomplish with our own know-how or energy. My wife’s ongoing weakness as a cancer-survivor is a daily reminder that God is more desirous of our dependency than our ability.

Lastly, every experience we encounter serves God’s gospel purpose in our lives. We must assign gospel meaning to our confounding experiences, for they fit into the pattern of maturation God uses. This must be an act of faith, for we usually cannot figure out why unwanted things occur. In this way, our walk with God continues to be one of faith, which always pleases God.





A Spiritual Retreat

11 04 2012

As a ministry we recommend one day a month to come away from the normal demands in order to spend time in reflection, rest, prayer. Lyn and I did that yesterday and were refreshed by the beauty of creation in a nearby state park. I will let the pictures tell about the day.

Tulips and daffodils are in bloom!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vestiges of an old fish-processing plant standing as markers of a former day, while a container ship in the distance arrives from China.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walks through forest trails, so refreshing.





Jobless Jay Leno – a story for Good Friday

6 04 2012

GOD DIED TODAY AT 4 A.M.

 

Jobless Jay Leno

 

Jay Leno is hilarious by every standard. The most important standard is that he doesn’t have to use antics and stupid little gimmicks like bringing monkeys on stage or bringing his camera crew outside to tape interviews on the sidewalks of New York. This is the main reason Jay is clearly funnier than Mr. Letterman. As laugh-worthy as David is, his antics reveal a lack of confidence in his pure joke-telling ability. Or maybe his script writers are just tired.

But today, even Jay Leno is out of work. When he went into the office at noon he was glum but still confident he could pull off the show using either skill or fakery. But Jay found the lights off and only a somber janitor dusting the floor like an automaton.

“What’s going on? Am I early?” blurted Leno. “Where is everybody?”

The janitor replied, “This is serious.”

“I can see it’s serious,” agreed the comedian, “but the show must go on.”

“Why?” queried the janitor as he perched his hands on the chin-high handle of his duster.

“Because people will be coming to the studio this evening and I need to be ready to be funny.”

“Not today Mr. Letterman.”

“I’m not David Letterman! Can’t you even get my name right?” Jay retorted with a slight sneer.

 

Now let us analize why Jay Leno is out of a job by consulting the yet-to-be-published “Idiot’s Guide to Cracking a Sublime Joke.”  In chapter 3, beguilingly entitled “The Philosophical Underpinnings of Humor,” we learn that laughter, right alongside love-making, can only exist in a rather complex convergence of realities. Since, coincidentally, Jay’s new janitor friend had been enjoying this chapter as his bedtime reading, its salient points emerged in their conversation in dimly-lit Studio D.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Leno,” replied the janitor as he steered his duster around the espresso bar. “There are basically two kinds of laughter, sane and insane.”

“Of course.”

“The laughter of the insane person is meaningless because there is no cognitive trigger, no mental awareness that something funny, something pleasureful was just uttered or, in Mr. Letterman’s case, performed.”

“Uh,” stammered the star, “but people often say I’m insanely funny.”

“That, technically speaking, is not a compliment, Jay…may I call you Jay?”

“By all means…and you are?….”

“Bud.”

“So Bud…”

“The only other kind of laughter is sane laughter,” Bud continued. “The laughter of the sane human being is rather complex but I’ll break it down for you…”

“I’m an educated man, Bud. I’ve dusted off a few books in my time, get it?”

“Whenever someone laughs at one of your jokes, he possesses an awareness of the sadness and angst of mankind’s plight. He laughs as a momentary protest against his burdensome reality.”

“Yeah,” interjected Leno, “I often think of the humanitarian contribution I’m making with my comedic talent.”

“I’m sure you do, Jay,” seeking to keep the comedian engaged. “There’s another factor that enters in. For someone to laugh he must desire and believe in the possibility of temporary mental and emotional relief from the burden of the world’s sadness.”

“Laughter’s the best medicine.”

“Right, Jay. Good line.” Bud reloaded. “I’m not going to go into the fact that the would-be-laugher must know the language, idioms, tone of voice, and humorous intention of the comedian.”

“He has to get it,” Jay summarized.

“Got it.”

“But what if the joke in unintentional?” Leno is on to something.

“All the better,” Bud confirmed as he perched a Marlboro loosely between his lips for a smokeless break. “Observing an unintended joke relieves the pain in our personal world because we can favorably compare ourselves to the bigger problem of the poor guy who is funny without wanting to be.”

“Man, am I glad I came in today. This is so enlightening.”

“No, it isn’t, Jay, because this is all theoretical now.”

“I don’t get it.” Confessed the former comedian.

“I know, Mr. Leno. Nobody does. Which illustrates the final factor that must exist for there to be humor.”

“I’m listening.”

Glancing around, Bud broke code and lit up. “We don’t bother to laugh at a joke unless we subconsciously think there is a glimmer of hope for a better future. Our inner self intuitively judges whether or not humor is appropriate and worth the effort.”

“What?” Jay was in the dark.

“In layman’s terms, laughter is a tiny burst of hopefulness. But if we don’t think things can possibly get better for us, we won’t find anything funny.”

“You’re wrong on that point, Bud. I know people who get so drunk they’ll laugh at anything, even my lousy joke about the hot-dog-eating-contest that I don’t even think is funny.”

“Drunks have temporarily joined the ranks of the insane. They’re not engaged in the meaning of the humor, and won’t remember it. So that isn’t really humor, only meaningless laughter.”

Jay Leno stood up and dug his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

Bud the janitor broke the silence, “So you see, that’s why nobody came into work today.”

“Real humor is dead.” Leno spoke matter-of-factly as he headed toward the exit. He paused thoughtfully, “Why did you come in, Bud?”

“I was needed as a character in this chapter.”

“That’s pretty good, Bud.” Jay Leno pushed the door open to the outside. “Pretty good yesterday.”





Am I Following a Faux Jesus?

31 03 2012

Awhile ago a friend of mine said something to me that, while not new, struck me in a freshly painful way–that if Jesus came and ministered among us today we would likely crucify Him again. Think about it. Would He seem so heretical–would we protect our doctrine, our “law”–would He join the “wrong side” of the political divide? Would He appear so worldly that we would see Him as compromising truth and therefore an impostor? Would His style be so plebeian, so poor and socially unacceptable? Would He be homeless and uncouth, such that we would ostracize Him as a weirdo? Would He stink up our nice sanctuaries, soiling the theater seats? We wouldn’t “crucify” Him literally, but we’d do so creatively by side-lining His impact.

Here’s what we would do–we’d divide like cells. Jesus would become Head of the unseemly part of the body, and we up here would appoint a co-head to lead us. This co-head would not be a human, for that would be heresy. No, he would be an imaginary Jesus, crafted according to our own liking. This compatible co-head would never speak disparagingly of the real Jesus. In fact, we would have selective quotes from Jesus Himself which we would put in the mouth of our preferred Jesus. Occasionally we would bring the two together over a sermon, but for the most part the two Lords wouldn’t get along too well.

Crucifixion would amount to stealing away part of Christ’s body and attaching those parts to a socially acceptable impostor. It would surprise the impostor-followers to realize that the real Jesus doesn’t know them, for in fact they don’t actually know Him. This is a grand deception, especially since these two messiah’s aren’t distinctly seen–they are look-alikes. But, no one can serve two masters, so someone needs to start paying attention to this huge misunderstanding. Someone needs to find out who the true messiah is and work every day to follow Him. Someone needs to recognize the slight of hand going on and face up to the real Jesus.

I’m afraid such a confrontation with reality might happen something like this. A knock would come at my door right at supper time. I answer and the real Jesus is standing there looking nothing at all like my rendition of Him. Suffice it to say He didn’t step out of a painting. Instead, He looks like He just walked 24 miles from inner city Seattle where He’s been in a homeless shelter for quite awhile. The worst happens. He asks if He can come in for supper. Every inch of me screams “No” inside. So I make up some partially true reason why it is really a bad night for visitors but another time would be okay.

But let’s say I didn’t do what I really did, and He is sitting at our dinner table. And let’s imagine I didn’t actually find a convincing reason that He couldn’t stay overnight. Suppose I got through to the next morning with the real Jesus Christ. How might He threaten me so severely that I would mentally check out on Him, that I would step back and decide that I needed to stick with my impostor Jesus? I think it could well happen if He told me to have some of my neighbors over for dinner this weekend–especially the ones who nobody really likes or talks to, or the ones who haven’t mowed their lawn all summer, or those who are black and play loud rap music. I could quietly switch Lords over something like that. Or if He started to get nosy about my finances. If He said I ought to sell my house and live by faith, I’m pretty sure I’d reason inside that He is out of touch with the need for equity as one moves into retirement age. After all He died at age 33 in a society without banks and insurance. What could He possibly understand about financial security these days?

If Jesus invited a bunch of seedy people over to my house–like street-walkers or meth users–that would force me to switch. If He tried to get me to visit homeless shelters, old people’s homes–or if He felt taxes should be raised in order to increase welfare, which is already inefficient and abused. If He came to church and told me I am hanging around in social isolation with people who knowingly seal themselves off from others who make them uncomfortable–even though they say they don’t–this would make it easy to change to a faux master.

No, I wouldn’t put Jesus back on a cross–that was the method of a barbaric time. I would put Him away more subtly; I’d create an alternate reality–sort of like  the evolutionists theory. I’d want so badly for it to be true, I’d piece together evidence to prove it. I’d ignore the gaps of logic I couldn’t explain and live by tenacious faith in the messiah I so longed to be real.

All of this brings things into really sharp focus: Someone needs to be crucified again and it isn’t the real Jesus. It’s me.