In the book, In the Name of Jesus, Henri Nouwen wrote of the temptations faced by leaders in the church, and by the church as a whole. Those temptations are relevance, popularity, and leading.
On Autumn
Autumn, or Fall, is one my two most favorite seasons, the other being Spring. I enjoy the cooler temperatures and the smell of smoke that often hangs in the air. In some way, even the decay of the leaves and the bare branches are beautiful and speak of the renewal that is to come.
The thing I like best about Fall is the beauty of the leaves as they change from green to different shades of red, yellow, and orange. The other day, Jan and I took a trip up into the high country of North Carolina and visited Banner Elk and Blowing Rock. The drive up was beautiful, as we saw the hues change from green with a bit of other colors to almost completely the colors of fall. As we drove from Banner Elk to Blowing Rock in the late afternoon, I was struck by the beauty of the fading sunlight as it filtered through the yellow and orange leaves.
The image that came to my mind was that of the elven realm of Lothlorien and the golden leaves of the Mallorn trees. As i continued to drive, I could imagine that place as a place where only beauty dwelt and where no evil could enter. I could have continued on that drive for much longer than we did. At some point we had to get off the road and return to the world as we know it, much as the ringbearers had to leave the realm of the Elves and continue on their journey.
Autumn reminds me that, as I go through this life that is often filled with decay, I can know that the golden hued forest we passed through is a picture of the time when all of creation will be renewed, and when there will be a land where no evil will enter, and only good will reign. It will be a land of unspeakable beauty and love that the best tales of humans can only allude to. It will be the realm of the True King, where there is no night, no pain or sickness, and no death. All tears will be wiped away, and everything sad will become untrue.
I look forward to seeing that renewal come to pass.
Blast From the Past: Taken, Blessed, Broken Given
This is part 1 of a four part series first published ten years ago.
At the camp I drive for during the summer, we hold a weekly study for the staff. This summer we are looking at Life of the Beloved, by Henri Nouwen. In this book, Nouwen writes about four words that have helped him identify the movements of the Spirit in his life. Nouwen’s idea is that as followers of Jesus we are bread for the world, therefore we are taken, blessed, broken, and given, as the bread during communion. As I read the explanation of these words, I am finding them helpful in my own walk. In this four part series, I am going to share some of my thoughts.
The first word is taken. You could substitute the word “chosen.” We are chosen by God to be his beloved children. He has become our Father, and he is pleased with his children. As Nouwen states:
“Our preciousness, uniqueness, and individuality are not given to us by those who meet us in clock-time — our brief chronological existence — but by the One who has chosen us with an everlasting love, a love that existed from all eternity and will last through all eternity.”
Unfortunately, we live in a world that tells us that we are nothing, that there is nothing special about us. Those voices bombard us constantly, from advertisements that tell us we must have the latest (fill in the blank) in order to be happy and fulfilled, to preachers who tell us how far short we fall and how much harder we need to work. Those voices do not come from our Father. They come from our Enemy who seeks to steal our joy, kill our spirits, and destroy our lives.
Nouwen gives three ways we can stay in touch with our chosenness. The first is to keep unmasking the world around us for what it is. The world is full of manipulation and destruction. It’s prevailing wisdom is to step on anyone and everyone in the climb up the ladder. When we feel hurt or rejected, we should recognize those feelings, but also recognize that they are not the truth about ourselves. The truth is that the Father loves us with an everlasting love, and has chosen us to be his children.
The second way is to look for people and places where our chosenness is affirmed. These people and places will not be perfect, but as Nouwen writes,
“The limited, sometimes broken, love of those who share our humanity can often point us to the truth of who we are: precious in God’s eyes.”
We need each other, and we need to affirm in each other the precious, beloved children that we are.
The third way is to celebrate our chosenness constantly. We are to be grateful to the Father for choosing us, and grateful to those who remind us of our chosenness. We need to be careful, because occasions for gratitude can also be occasions for cynicism, for questioning motives, even for bitterness. We must guard against this and consciously choose to be grateful.
Rather than making us feel superior or more favored, claiming our chosenness will give us a great desire to help others recognize and claim their chosenness, their place as a beloved child of the Father. This is another reason we need to be in community with our brothers and sisters in Christ. We can build up and encourage one another as we gather together as God’s chosen, beloved children.
One final thought from Nouwen:
” It is only when we have claimed our own place in God’s love that we can experience this all-embracing, noncomparing love and feel safe, not only with God, but also with all our brothers and sisters.”
God’s Hesed
This week we took a break from our series on Proverbs and talked about the Hesed of God.
Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Elder Son
The first post in this series looked at the main character in the story of the prodigal son; the younger son who had gone off with his inheritance and wasted it, and then came back. This post looks at the older son.
When the prodigal son returned home, there was one person who was conspicuously absent. The elder son was out in the fields, working as he had for years. In contrast to his younger brother, the older son had stayed home, working hard and obeying his father.
When he came in from another hard day’s work, the elder brother saw all the lights on in the house, heard the music and laughter, and noticed the activity of the servants. In answer to his questions, a servant replied that the younger son had returned and the father was welcoming him home with a huge party. The older son didn’t think this was such a good idea. In fact, he was pretty ticked off and refused to go into the house and join the festivities.
When the father came out to ask his oldest son to join them, he refused. He complained that during all the years he had spent doing everything the father had wanted, being the dutiful son, he had never even received one single goat to have a cookout with his friends. “On top of that, this son of yours has wasted his inheritance on wild parties and whores, and you’ve killed the fattened calf for him?”
How many of us have, at one or more times in our lives, been upset because grace has been shown to an individual who is a “worse sinner” than we are? (I see that hand. It’s mine) We just can’t believe that they got away with it! Our attitude is often the same as that of the Americans who rejoiced when Osama Bin-Laden was killed. That so-and-so got what he deserved. We want justice (usually meaning what the other person deserves) when it comes to others, yet many times we would prefer that mercy be shown to us. Sometimes, while the angels in heaven are rejoicing over one sinner who has repented, we are taking a wait and see attitude. After all, we don’t want to be played for a fool.
Sometimes we are like the elder brother when we think that because we have been good little boys and girls, God owes us. We wonder why God doesn’t answer our requests, because after all, we’ve been faithful in church, we’ve served others, we’ve had faith and claimed that answer, whatever. Then, when God doesn’t “come through” for us, we start looking around for answers. Maybe I didn’t have enough faith. Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough. Maybe I need to search my heart and see if there’s a sin I forgot to confess. Or, we begin to doubt the goodness of God toward us. “If God really loves me, why didn’t he give me what I want.”
Like the prodigal, the elder brother forgot who we was. Even though he had never left the property, he too had left home. He had forgotten the character of his father. The father was obviously a kind, loving, and generous man. He was full of grace and mercy, and wanted the best for his sons. He was quick to forgive, and to let past offenses stay in the past. Interestingly, that sounds a whole lot like our Father. He is slow to anger, and quick to forgive. He doesn’t dredge up our past and hold it against us. He loves his children with an everlasting love, and his heart is good to us.
We can not earn the grace of our Father. It is his to give freely, and his alone. We are not to look on others and complain when they don’t “get what they deserve.” Most of the time we don’t know how God is working in another individuals life. To paraphrase Aslan, God is not telling us their story, he is only telling us ours. Judging whether or not a person should receive grace is way above our pay grade. We are called to rejoice when others rejoice. Kind of like the angels.
We have all been the elder brother in some way or another. Our Abba is calling us to join the party.
Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son
This was first posted back in 2011. There are a couple of minor edits.
Today, I’m starting a four part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.
The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.
The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.
There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.
Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.
The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.
Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.
Blast From the Past: Falsetto Spirituality
This post was first published in 2008.
In Soul Graffiti, Mark Scandrette writes, “A fascination with the supernatural can be a sign of spiritual fragmentation, a falsetto spirituality that strains to reach beyond the normal”. As I pondered that statement, I realized that it is so true in much of what is called Christianity.
The obvious examples of this “fascination with the supernatural” are those who run from place to place seeking signs and wonders and “fresh anointing” from God. The supposed moving of God can keep arenas, and ministry accounts, full for months as people swarm to experience a touch from God to lift their lives above the ordinary sameness of their daily lives. While some would consider these events on the fringe, there are other examples that hit a bit closer to home.
Mainstream evangelicalism is concerned with showing people how to have their best life now, with programs that will enable folks to experience a life that rises above the ordinary. Church leaders are given opportunities to learn the secrets of success from The CEO: Jesus. Congregations strive to be extraordinary and have bigger and better facilities and programs. Supernatural power that gets prayers answered and our needs (wants) supplied is constantly sought.
Even those of a more conservative, fundamental bent are not immune to a hunger for the supernatural. They seek a home far away in heaven, a home where the physical no longer matters, a place to escape this broken world. Many of the rules and regulations in fundamental groups seem designed to limit contact with this physical world and its “corruption”.
I’m not saying that the supernatural does not matter. I am awed when God performs genuine miracles of healing, and when he provides for his people in supernatural ways. I rejoice when prayers are answered and when godly leaders influence others to follow Jesus Christ. I too believe that this world is broken and corruption runs deep.
What I am saying, and what I think is the point of the quotation from Scandrette, is that the normal, ordinary parts of our lives matter. We are called to follow Jesus here and now, not in a future existence outside of this world. Jesus proclaimed that the Kingdom was here, that the King had arrived. Christ’s Kingdom is not of this world, but it does have an impact on this world. We have been given the commission and privilege to participate in the work that God is currently doing in this world.
If we look around us with eyes that can see, we can notice how God is working in the day-to-day of our lives. In fact, I think the really supernatural and miraculous thing is that the Creator of all things uses broken, ordinary people like us to do the work of restoring his creation, a work that will finally be complete when Jesus returns. The work of the Kingdom is not just those things that we see as “spiritual”. It sometimes involves getting dirty and dealing with ordinary things. But, then again, Jesus used ordinary things. He used spit and dirt to heal a blind man, for goodness sake! Why do we think we have to “rise above the ordinary”.
Look for God at work in the ordinary, and ask him where he wants you to fit into what he is doing. Don’t run after the supernatural. Remember, many times a falsetto voice doesn’t sound very good.
What Can We Do?
In the October 15 issue of the New York Times, David Brooks writes an opinion piece titled, How to Actually Make America Great.” In the piece, he writes about a new book, The Upswing, written by Robert D. Putnam and Shaylyn Romney Garrett, which chronicles the changes in American life from about 1870 to today. The book looks at a wide range of sectors of American life as a whole rather than as separate entities.
The authors find that American social trends improved from 1870 up to the late 1960s. All of the indicators of good life improved, from civic particpation to church attendance. Income inequality fell and the greatest improvements in the lives of African Americans happened duriing this period. All of that changed and began to reverse in the late 60s. Why? Was it economic inequality or political dysfunction?
According to Putnam and Garrett, the problems began when the word “I” began to take the place of “we” in the minds of Americans. America began to turn from solidarity to individualism. The frequency of the word “I” in American books doubled between 1965 and 2008. We began to be more self-centered, whether it was those on the left who celebrated the freedom to do their own thing socially, or those on the right who celebrated the freedom to do their own thing economically. Everyone began to look after their own self interests while forgetting the interests of others.
Obviously, this was not a total change. Their were, and are, folks who spend their lives looking out and caring for others. Non-profits and other groups that help others have not disappeared. However, the culture as a whole has become much more self-centered. All you have to do is look at the advertising on television or radio. It’s geared toward those who want more for themselves. Even much of the political ads are pointed at the interests of the voter. “Candidate X will raise your taxes, while candidate Z will let you keep more of your money.” “Vote for this person, because if they are elected, the economy will soar and your stocks will increase in value.”
I see a lot of this in the wider Church in America. A gospel is preached that tells the person to ask Jesus into their heart to be their “personal Savior,” so that they can go to heaven when they die. The emphasis is on the individual. Much of what passes for “discipleship” in many churches is focused on the individual’s walk with God. I don’t see a lot about an individual walk with God in the Scriptures. although it is true that I personally am called to follow Jesus. All through the Bible, those who are called are called to be part of a family, whether it’s the family of Israel in the Old Testament, or the new family of God which includes Jew and Gentile in the New Testament. Christians are described as members of a family with God as our Father, as members of the body of Christ, and as fellow citizens of a Kingdom ruled by sacrficial love for others. It is in community that discipleship happens, as we learn and grow together.
The emphasis in the Bible is on the interconnectedness of those who follow Jesus, and the command to love others and put their interests ahead of our own. That is countercultural in a world that puts self first. But then, we are called to show a better way of being truly human. The early Christians lived in a world that was very self absorbed, much like our world today. Rather than buying the bill of goods the world was offering, they threw their lot in with the true King who gave his life for others. In doing so, they gave their lives for others and turned the world upside down.
May God grant us the desire to live as ambassadors of the Kingdom that conquers through sacrificial love and not selfish power.
Christ or Narcissus?
Jesus Christ. Son of God. The Messiah. Called his followers to pick up their cross, die to their selves, and follow him, living a life that is others focused. Giver of eternal life.
Narcissus. Son of a Greek god. Self centered. Treated others with disdain, especially anyone who loved him. Fell in love with his reflection in a pool of water and couldn’t tear himself away. Died.
We live in a narcissistic culture. We have been told to look out for number one, and that the greatest love is a love for oneself. Even acts of altruism are many times done because of how good it makes us feel. We are encouraged to make sure we get what we want out of life, whether that be career success, fame, love, or just being happy. Advertisers make millions because they can convince us that we need the newest product to make our lives complete. We in the church look at the culture and say, “Boy those folks sure are selfish.”
What is sad is that there is a narcissistic Christianity that has infected the church. Jesus has gone from being our “personal Savior,” to someone who will give us whatever we think we need. In Jesus Manifesto, Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola noted that at the beginning of the twenty-first century the majority of the 100 top selling Christian books were focused on the personal and private. 6 books were about the Bible, 4 were about Jesus, and 3 were about evangelism. The other 87 were essentially “self help” books. If you look at the titles in any Christian bookstore, you can learn how to have your best life now where every day is a Friday, you can find out how to be a king in your own personal kingdom and have dominion over everything that comes your way, or you can find out to be a better (fill in the blank). If you watch Christian television, you can find out how to increase your finances by giving to any one of a bunch of ministries. Sounds kind of like the lottery to me. There was even a preacher on one program telling folks how to get what they wanted from God, comparing the ruler of the universe to a fast food restaurant! It’s all about us!
Jesus calls us to something far different. He calls us to live as he lived. Instead of an inward focus, Jesus lived with an outward focus. His first focus was his Father. Jesus stated that he did nothing but what the Father told him, and that he came to do the Father’s will. His other focus was on those who needed love and grace. Pretty much everyone. Jesus’ mission was to redeem those who were in need of redemption. He went around doing good, forgiving sins, healing, and loving. He loved the Father, and us, so much that he died a shameful death in the most agonizing way known to that day. He was the sacrifice that did what we could never do, reconcile us with God. That death, taken for others, brought us life. We who follow Jesus are called to the same kind of life. A life that is focused first on loving God, and then on loving others as Jesus loved us. It is a sacrificial life, a life that gives up, a life that wins by losing. How well do you think that title would do in the market?
Christ or Narcissus? One died because he couldn’t get his focus off himself. The other calls us to come and die, and find that we may truly live.
The Prodigal Son: The Younger Son
Today, I’m starting a three part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.
The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.
The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.
There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.
Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.
The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.
Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.