Blast From the Past: Too Comfortable With Jesus?

This was first posted on  February 16, 2010.

In Mark 6, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue in his hometown. The people are amazed at his teaching and wisdom. Matthew 13 tells us that his neighbors also were amazed at his miracles. They asked how Jesus got all this wisdom and power. After all, this was the same man who had grown up in their town. They knew his family. He had played with their children. Jesus had probably done work for them. They knew Jesus, or at least they thought they did. He was one of them. They were comfortable with this neighbor.

According to the text, thinking that they had Jesus all figured out caused a lack of faith in them. They couldn’t believe that this small town boy could do the miracles he was doing or teach with the wisdom he was showing. Even with the evidence staring them in the face, their familiarity with Jesus blinded them to what God was doing. Consequently, Jesus did not do many miracles in his hometown.

How easy is it for us to become comfortable with Jesus? Growing up, I heard the stories. I saw the flannel graph pictures. I became familiar with this soft spoken. gentle, fair-haired Savior who seemed to float serenely through first century Palestine ( except for the time that he really got ticked off at the money changers in the Temple). I was a Christian. I had asked Jesus to come into my heart, and since I had my “get out of hell free” card, I grew complacent in the relationship. I prayed, and asked forgiveness when I sinned, but the relationship was not really a close one. I had my image of Christ, and didn’t really expect him to ask much more of me than being a good boy and “worshipping” him when the church doors were open. I’m afraid that the image many churchgoers have of Jesus is not very different from that.

In the past couple of years, I’ve begun to learn to see Jesus more as he is. Through a few authors, particularly N. T. Wright and Dallas Willard, I have seen a different side of the Savior. Jesus the King has stepped into my path and shown himself to be exactly who the Gospels say he is. He is the Christ, the Anointed One of God. He is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He is God incarnate. His Kingdom is now, not just in the future. Along with that, he is my brother and friend, and he calls me to follow and obey him out of love and gratitude for what he has done for me on the cross.

Jesus also calls me into a relationship with him, a relationship that is in many ways like those with other humans, but is so much better. That relationship is one where I am learning to not think that I have him all figured out, but rather to be open to anything he might do. In the Gospels, Jesus didn’t fit into any one’s preconceived notions, and he dealt with different people in different ways. So it is in my life. I am learning to expect the unexpected.

May we never say, “We have Jesus figured out. We know how he does things, and we know how he doesn’t work.”

Room for Redemption

A firestorm erupted in the sports world recently with the revelation that the owner of the Los Angeles Clippers is a racist although, as Kareem Abdul Jabbar and others pointed out, the NBA has known that for quite some time. The controversy continues to swirl, as the league looks for a way to force Sterling to sell the team. Now reports of prostate cancer and a possible divorce have been added to the mix. Donald Sterling has become a pariah. He has been banned for life from the NBA, and his name is becoming a byword for the worst kind of individual.

Sterling’s statements and his attitudes are reprehensible and should be condemned. I don’t see anything in them that is defensible. What strikes me about this incident is not the fact that a rich owner of a sports franchise has been outed as a racist. The fact that a human being is a sinner is not a surprise at all. What strikes me is the seeming impossibility of any chance of redemption for Donald Sterling. Now, whether or not Sterling should be redeemed by the league is something that is way above my pay grade. Most would say that there is no way he should ever be involved in professional sports again, and I think I would agree with them. Sometimes the consequences of our actions last a lifetime.

When I think of Donald Sterling and the way all of this has come down, I realize that I was in a similar situation. I was a sinner by nature, and everything I did was unacceptable to a holy God. Humanly speaking there was no chance at all of redemption. I was hopelessly, irrevocably lost.
What awaited me made Donald Sterling’s lifetime ban seem like a walk in the park. I deserved every bit of it. But…

That holy God loved me. Even though I had nothing that would cause him to look on me with favor, God loved me and Jesus died in my place. This not only made my redemption possible, it made it a finished fact. It is as if someone stepped up and took Donald Sterling’s punishment and Sterling was accepted back into the league with open arms. Actually, it’s a whole lot more amazing, and scandalous, than that. The Son of God came down, became a human like me, and died the death I should have died, so I could live. Now I am accepted in God’s family with open arms as a beloved child. All of the inheritance that belongs to Jesus also is mine because I am now in Christ. It’s not Fred anymore, trying and failing to be acceptable to God. It’s now Christ living in me, and the Father’s acceptance of his Son is now mine. I am redeemed!

There probably isn’t any redemption for Donald Sterling from the NBA, or from society. The only redemption he could hope for would have to come from Christ. If you’re reading this and realize that you are also a person without hope of redemption, I would encourage you to call on Jesus, the only One who can and will redeem.

Seven Steps to Happiness

Another Easter post from 2010.

Just kidding. Did I get your attention? Actually, this post has nothing to do with any number of steps to anything. It’s about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and what that means in our day-to-day.

A couple of days ago, I was reading a post by Keith Giles, titled “Risen?” I remember, while growing up in fundamental Baptist churches, hearing a lot about the death of Christ on the cross, but not a whole lot on the Resurrection. Resurrection was something reserved for the times the pastor preached on justification or why Christians worship on Sunday, or for Easter. The death of Christ is the loudest message that the church proclaims. Now, the death of Jesus on the Cross is essential. Because of the Cross, our sins are washed away and we are free. We must proclaim the Cross.

We forget however, that the death of Christ on the cross is only part of the Gospel. The rest of the story is that Jesus didn’t remain dead. He walked out of that tomb, proving that he was indeed the Messiah. He defeated death, and began the restoration of all creation. As the Apostle Paul said, if Christ is not raised then our faith is useless. The Resurrection changes everything!

I wonder if one reason the death of Christ is the church’s main message is the emphasis that is put on going to heaven, of life after death. In the circles I spent time in, everything was based on getting to go to heaven when you died. This life was seen as simply living according to the moral principles of whatever group you were a part of, keeping a “good testimony” so unbelievers would hear what we had to say, and staying “right with God.” We were never taught that the Resurrection had any implications for life in the here and now.

If we believe that Jesus is raised from the dead, there are certain things that are true of us. We are raised with Christ. Death has been defeated. As N.T. Wright puts it, there is “life after life after death.” We will live in a new creation, not just a disembodied state out there somewhere. We have the same power that raised Jesus from the dead at work in us. Let that sink in.

These things are not only in the future. They have begun. The Resurrection gives us the power to live as new creation now, in this life. The Resurrection means that God is restoring all things now, and that we get to be part of that restoration. Resurrection also means that the Kingdom has come. Jesus is Lord. That means that we live as citizens of the Kingdom of God right now, not just sometime in the distant future. Our allegiance is first and foremost to the King of Kings.

I don’t know how all of this works out in the individual lives of followers of Jesus. There really are no steps to follow that will work for everyone. I’ve been thinking about what living in the Resurrection would look like in my life. I do know that I need to be more sensitive to the Holy Spirit’s leading as I live in my day-to-day. I do know that I want to live as one who is risen with Christ, who is a subject of the King of Kings, who is part of the restoring of Creation.

A New Morning

It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.
“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.
“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”
They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.
“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.
“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”
“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.
The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”
“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.
“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.
“Not now,” said Aslan.
“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghostAslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“Do I look it?” he said.
“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.
“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”

C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christ is risen!

Good Friday

More from C.S. Lewis:

“Muzzle him!” said the Witch. And even now, as they worked about his face putting on the muzzle, one bite from his jaws would have cost two or three of them their hands. But he never moved. And this seemed to enrage all that rabble. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two girls could not even see him–so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of creatures kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him.
At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag the bound and muzzled Lion to the Stone Table, some pulling and some pushing. He was so huge that even when they got him there it took all their efforts to hoist him onto the surface of it. Then there was more tying and tightening of cords.
“The cowards! The cowards!” sobbed Susan. “Are they still afraid of him, even now?”
When once Aslan had been tied (and tied so that he was really a mass of cords) on the flat stone, a hush fell on the crowd. Four Hags, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. The Witch bared her arms as she had bared them the previous night when it had been Edmund instead of Aslan. Then she began to whet her knife. It looked to the children, when the gleam of the torchlight fell on it, as if the knife were made of stone, not of steel, and it was of a strange and evil shape.
At last she drew near. She stood by Aslan’s head. Her face was working and twitching with passion, but his looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before she gave the blow, she stooped down and said in a quivering voice,
“And now, who has won? Fool, did you think that by all this you would save the human traitor? Now I will kill you instead of him as our pact was and so the Deep Magic will be appeased. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him as well? And who will take him out my hand then? Understand that you have given me Narnia forever, you have lost your own life and you have not saved his. In that knowledge, despair and die.”
The children did not see the actual moment of the killing. They couldn’t bear to look and had covered their eyes.
While the two girls still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the Witch calling out,
“Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the human vermin and the traitors now that the great Fool, the great Cat, lies dead.”

Thursday

This Easter season, I’m putting up some posts from 2010.

From The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe:

A howl and gibber of dismay went up from the creatures when they first saw the great Lion pacing towards them, and for a moment the Witch herself seemed to be struck with fear. Then she recovered herself and gave a wild, fierce laugh.
“The fool!” she cried. “The fool has come. Bind him fast.”
Lucy and Susan held their breaths waiting for Aslan’s roar and his spring upon his enemies. But it never came. Four hags, grinning and leering, yet also (at first) hanging back and half afraid of what they had to do, had approached him. “Bind him, I say!” repeated the White Witch. The hags made a dart at him and shrieked with triumph when they found that he made no resistance at all. Then others–evil dwarfs and apes–rushed in to help them and between them they rolled the huge Lion round on his back and tied all his four paws together, shouting and cheering as if they had done something brave, though, had the Lion chose, one of those paws could have been the death of them all. But he made no noise, even when the enemies, straining and tugging, pulled the cords so tight that they cut into his flesh. Then they began to drag him towards the Stone Table.
“Stop!” said the Witch. “Let him first be shaved.”
Another roar of mean laughter went up from her followers as an ogre with a pair of shears came forward and squatted down by Aslan’s head. Snip-snip-snip went the shears and masses of curling gold began to fall to the ground. Then the ogre stood back and the children, watching from their hiding-place, could see the face of Aslan looking all small and different without its mane. The enemies also saw the difference.
“Why, he’s only a great cat after all!” cried one.
“Is that what we were afraid of?” said another.
And they surged round Aslan jeering him, saying things like “Puss, Puss! Poor Pussy.” and “How many mice have you caught to-day, Cat?” and “Would you like a saucer of mill, Pussums?”
“Oh how can they?” said Lucy, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The brutes, the brutes!” for now that the first shock was over the shorn face of Aslan looked to her braver, and more beautiful, and more patient than ever.

Obedience and Faith: A Fourth View

A few months back, Steve Fuller wrote this post. He wrote about the differences between Kevin DeYoung and Tullian Tchividjian in their view of the relationship between obedience and faith. Essentially,  DeYoung believes that obedience comes from faith but still requires effort along with faith, while Tchividjian says that the effort involved is focused on strengthening our faith, and then obedience will follow. Fuller then writes of John Piper’s view that obedience comes from faith alone but that faith is in the promise of God to justify and to completely satisfy us with himself. You can read the post to get a fuller picture. Now, I am not a theologian and I don’t play one on TV, but I got to thinking (that’s dangerous, I know). With a number of issues, I tend to look for a third way. I wonder if there might not be a fourth way here.

In this post, I wrote about our union with Christ and all of the things that flow from that. Our justification, sanctification, our continued faith, and our obedience come from being in Christ. We have been crucified and raised to life in Christ. It is Christ living in us. Everything is ours because everything is Christ’s. I believe that our faith comes from our union with Christ. Paul tells us that our faith is a gift from God. John 15 tells us that our fruitfulness in life comes from abiding in Christ. We love because God loved us first. Christ’s obedience is ours. Christ’s faith is ours. I would go so far as to say that Christ’s satisfaction in the Father is ours. Everything we need to live in obedience to our Father is ours. When we keep our focus on the fact that we are in Christ and he is in us, we trust him to live in us and that in turn leads us to obey. We still disobey, but that is because we forget who we are and allow sin to co-opt our desire and tell us the lie that things other than God can satisfy us. When we remember who we are in Christ, we find our only desire is to live in obedience and intimacy with the only One who can satisfy us and who loves us with an inexhaustible love.

These are just some thoughts. I would love to hear some of yours. Feel free to tell me if I’m out to lunch, although I don’t think I am.

Worth What God Paid?

I once heard a preacher ask his audience if God was getting out of them what he paid for them. In other words, was God getting his money’s worth. I’ve been thinking about that idea a bit. Knowing the context of the sermon, I’m sure this preacher was asking his audience if they were “living right,” if they were doing all the right things that a Christian should do, if they were being a “good testimony.”

In one sense, the answer to that question could be, “no.” The price that was paid to redeem us is far beyond anything we can ever repay, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to insure that God is getting a good return on his investment. The good news is that we don’t have to repay God, or do anything to make sure we are worth the sacrifice. This frees us to simply live our lives, knowing that  God is not checking a ledger to make sure returns match up with costs.

In another sense, the answer to the question is, “Yes!” The work that Jesus did on the cross redeemed us, and brought us into the family of God. That work gave the Father many sons and daughters on which he can lavish his love. It was with joy that Jesus went to the cross, not trepidation that we somehow would screw up and cheapen his sacrifice. He knew that what he did would reconcile us to the Father and make us co-heirs with him.

Because of what Christ did on the cross, we are now united to him. He is in us, and we are in him. We died with Christ, and we are raised with him. We are new creation. When the Father looks at us, he sees us in Christ, therefore he sees beloved children in whom he is well pleased. God knew exactly what he was getting for his “investment,” and decided in ages past that it was worth it. While it is not yet clear who we really are, and while we don’t always act like it, the truth of the matter is that we are cleansed, redeemed children of the Creator of the universe. We are united with Christ and there is absolutely nothing that can tear us away from that.

So, yes. Because we are in Christ, you and I are worth every bit of the sacrifice that the Father made on our behalf. May we live in that reality in our day-to-day.

Blast From the Past: Twenty Centuries Later

This was first posted on April 1, 2009.

It seems that the twenty first century American culture we are living in is similar to the first century. In Palestine, the Jewish religious culture was very comfortable and settled in their ways, much like the church in America. The Romans let them run their religious system, and for the most part they didn’t make waves. While looking for the Messiah to come and rid their world of all the evildoers, they were content practicing their version of what had been passed down from Moses. The people at the top of the spiritual pecking order controlled who worshipped, how they worshipped, and where they worshipped. The Roman culture of the day was very religious. So religious in fact, that they were very accepting of the various gods being worshipped, as long as those who worshipped also accepted the idea that Caesar was lord. Pleasure and comfort was the ultimate, for those who could afford it.

Into this world stepped Jesus. During his time here on earth he proclaimed that the Kingdom of God was here, and that he was the King everyone had been waiting for. He was not recognized by the religious elite because he didn’t fit the mold of what they thought the Messiah would be. They were scandalized that he invited the poor, the downcast, the “sinners” to join the Kingdom. They thought they were the gatekeepers. When the religious leaders took Jesus to Pilate, the only charge they could bring that affected Pilate at all was the charge that Jesus was claiming to be a king other than Caesar. What may have been the tipping point for Pilate was when they told him that he was not loyal to Caesar if he let Jesus go. Their statement, “We have no king but Caesar,” indicates that they were willing to remain in bondage rather than accept God’s rule.

As the church began to spread and carry out the command to make disciples, they ran into a culture that quickly became hostile when it was evident that these disciples of Jesus didn’t fit into the mold. They didn’t just go along to get along. When asked, or told, to sacrifice to the gods or to Caesar, they 
refused. Their response was that Jesus is Lord, and Jesus only. There was no sense of taking the message of Jesus and the Kingdom and simply adding it to the “Roman Dream.” The message of the
early Christians was that the Kingdom of God had come and all the other kingdoms of this world were nothing. This message caused them to be ostracized, to be shut out from participating in the economic and political life of many towns. Eventually this message caused many of them to lose their lives. This message also turned the world upside down.

I look around at the cultural landscape in America and see many of the same things. I see a church that, in many ways, has become quite comfortable here. So much of what is proclaimed in churches across America is nothing more than a self-help gospel. Many, if not most of the titles in Christian bookstores deal with how to get what you want, how to be a better __________, how to have your best life now, or how to be a better you (what happened to being like Christ?). Much of the church has been co-opted by political parties on both sides, and we have come to equate Christianity with America. We have lost our ability to speak truth to power because we have lusted after power.

At the same time, those who follow Jesus face a wider culture that is increasingly hostile to the idea
that there is only one King, and one Kingdom over all. I have read commentators who write about the way America is becoming like Europe. I think that is true, but I also think that a culture where a clear line is drawn between those who are disciples of Jesus and those who aren’t is preferable to one where the message of the Gospel is hidden in all the layers of institutionalization that have been added over the centuries.

Maybe we can, once again, turn the world upside down.

Thoughts on Lent

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday and our church held a service, with ashes and everything. It was the first time I had ever participated in such a service, having been raised in a tradition that pretty much ignored everything before Easter. The service was beautiful, and challenging. As I think about the season of Lent, a few things come to mind.

Lent is a way of remembering the journey of Jesus to the cross to die for our sins. It was for our sin that he died. It is always good to keep that in mind. Lent is also a season of sacrifice, of giving something up. That sacrifice can be anything from food to television, from smoking to the internet (if you’ve given up the internet, it’ll be a while before you read this). The problem with giving things up is that it can become an exercise in self-righteousness and self-justification.

Lent is a time of remembering that we came from dust and will return to dust. In other words, we’re going to die. As someone who believes that Jesus has redeemed our bodies along with our souls, this remembering comes with the knowledge that we will be resurrected, with real bodies as well as souls.  This union of body and soul comes in when we give up something physical in order to focus on the spiritual. For instance, if we give up food, we can remember that Jesus is our source of life. Unfortunately, this too can become an exercise in legalism.

I believe Lent can best be observed as a time of repentance. Not as an exercise in self hatred but as an acceptance of the fact that, on our own, we can not love God or others as we ought. We can’t live this life on our own. In Luke 9, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, to the cross. On his way, he calls others to follow him. They make various excuses, and Jesus tells them that they have to give up everything in order to follow him. Jesus calls us to follow him. Follow him to the cross, the place of death. He calls us to come and die.

The good news is that when we die, we find that it is then that we truly live. We live in Christ and he
lives in us. When we give it all up, we realize true freedom. As Janis Joplin sang, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose.” When we give it all up we have nothing to lose because we have everything that we cannot lose. As we follow Jesus to the cross, we know that we have also been raised with him.

This Lent season, we remember. We give up, not because we need to “do,” but because Jesus has already “done.”