Category: gospel

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A Little Update

This morning I had my tenth radiation treatment for my prostate cancer. I have nineteen more to go. As I was sitting in the waiting room, a young woman came in and sat down. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties. I thought, “She’s far too young to have to undergo radiation for cancer.” At the same time I thought of a dear friend who is in her last hours on this earth due to cancer, and how she is also too young.

These thoughts, combined with the fact that I was sitting in a waiting room waiting to receive radiation for cancer, made me quite aware again of the fact that none of us gets out of here alive, barring the return of Jesus to set all things right. The past year or so, I have been doing a bit of downsizing, housecleaning, whatever you want to call it with my personal posessions. I have also been doing the same in the ways I approach life and those around me.

The buzz word (or dirty word, depending on your point of view) among Christians, is “deconstructing.” It means different things for different people. I am doing some deconstructing, or maybe decluttering might be a better word. I am realizing that many of the things we allow ourselves to get all worked up about aren’t realy worth the mental or emotional energy. I care and less about national and world politics, although I will still speak about things that I think are important to my faith. I am learning to care less and less about what people think, although there is still a large part of me that wants to be liked.

My theology, like Karl Barth’s, is becoming more and more summed up in the words of the children’s song; “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and my rule for living has become “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And, love your neighbor as yourself.” I firmly believe that if those of us who claim to follow Jesus would practice those two commands, the church and the world would be better for it.

Life is short. Macbeth said that it is “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I heartily disagree. Life is a precious gift from our Creator, and we are to live in a way that gives back to him a bit of the love he has shown us, and that extends that love to those in our lives. Love the people around you, while there is still time.

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Look Into Jesus

Back in 1972, one of the pioneers of “Christian Rock,” Larry Norman, sang a song titled, “Why Don’t You Look Into Jesus.” The lyrics speak of people who are trapped in an unending cycle of drunkenness, drug abuse, sexual hookups, and such. Then the lyrics say, “Why don’t you look into Jesus. He’s got the answer.” A simple message, and at the time this song was written, a message that seemed to resonate with many who were looking for answers and realized that they were not to be found in drugs, drunkenness, or promiscuity.

I wonder if we here, fifty years later, might do well to heed the message of this song from the heyday of the Jesus Movement, and look into Jesus in a fresh way. Have we moved from what is really the simple message of the gospel, and if so how do we get back?

In Revelation Chapter 2, Jesus tells John to write to the church in Ephesus. The message is that, for the most part, they are doing well. Their deeds, hard work, and perseverance are known. They do not tolerate wicked people, and have tested and rejected false teachers. They have endured hardship and have not grown weary. I think most of us would appreciate those words said about us. But, there is more. There’s something else that Jesus has to say to this church.

“I have something that I hold against you.” Things are not all well and good. In spite of their good works, their perseverance, and their doctrinal purity, Jesus has a problem with them. The problem is that they have forsaken their first love. They are told to look and see how far they have fallen. They have “moved on,” and have “matured” in their doctrine and everything else, but their love for their King has grown cold.

In Matthew 22, Jesus is asked what the greatest commandment in the Law is. His reply is in two parts. He states that the greatest commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind. Then he says that the second commandment is like the first: Love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Jesus then goes on to say that the entire Law and Prophets hang on these two commandments. In other words, all of God’s commands boil down to two things. We are to love God and love others. To the extent we obey those two things, we obey every command God has for us.

I believe that the Church here in the West, especially in the United States, has left her first love. We used to proclaim the Gospel, and the result was awakenings which shaped the culture. Even though America has never been a “Christian nation,” it was a kingdom of this world that was, in part, influenced by the Church. Much has changed over the years.

Historians may disagree on the beginning of the decline of the Church in the United States. I believe that the present issues that we see are the result of the Church forgetting that we are part of the Kingdom of God. In the history of the American Church, there have been times when the spiritual climate has not been healthy. Hence the need for revival. In the last half of the 20th Century, many in the Church began to see themselves as agents of change in the political system and in the culture, rather than citizens of a greater kingdom. On both the right and the left, people began to equate electing certain people to public office and enacting certain legislation with following Jesus. This has continued into the current century.

When there are proclaimers of the gospel spending their time pushing a partisan agenda or stating that a certain candidate is going to “save America,” we have lost our first love. When we separate with fellow Christians because of the political or social views, we have lost our first love. When we proclaim that the Constitution is equal to Scripture by our words and action, we have left our first love. When we care more about our “freedom” than about loving and serving others, we have lost our first love. When we see Jesus’ commands in the Sermon on the Mount as something for a future time and not really for us today, we have lost our first love. When we tell people that all they have to do is say a prayer to be sure of a “home in heaven when they die” and neglect to teach them what it means to follow the King of Kings, we have lost our first love.

We need to regain our first love, the love for the King that causes us to take seriously his words about loving others as we love ourselves, about putting the interests of the Kingdom ahead of our own, and about dying to our own self interest. The stakes are high for those of us in the Church. In Revelation 2, Jesus tells the church that if they don’t repent and do the works which they did at first (the works done out of love for their Lord) he will remove them from their place. I believe the Church in America is in danger of being removed. Whether that will take the form of persecution and oppression or just a growing irrelevance, I don’t know. I do believe that the next chapter in the history of the Church in the West will be similar to the first century, as the culture becomes more and more like that of the Roman Empire. Our question may well be whether we will give our allegiance to the True King or to the empire.

May God bring us back to our first love.

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Blast From the Past: Fear and Love

This was first published back in 2010, There is still a lot of that around, although some of the details may have changed.

In the song, “I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” Death Cab for Cutie sings about death and following a lover “into the dark.” It’s a song that sees death as an unknown. There are many folks who see death and life after death that way. I’m not going to discuss that here though.

What struck me (and broke my heart) were the following lines:

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
“Son fear is the heart of love”
So I never went back

I never went to Catholic school, but I did grow up in a religious culture that was fear based. We were told early in life that we needed to accept Jesus as our personal Savior so we could avoid going to hell. Lurid descriptions of hell, some going beyond what Scripture says, were part and parcel of the “gospel.” Movies like “Thief in the Night,” and stories of holes drilled deep into the earth and the screams of the damned coming from those holes, were designed to scare people into “making a decision” for Christ. Today, churches use things like “Judgment House,” and “Helloween” to do the same thing.

There was also an emphasis on “living right,” which of course meant following a certain set of rules and regulations. The motives for doing right included not wanting to lose rewards in heaven, not wanting to damage our “testimony,” and not wanting to be “taken home” early because of our sin. We tried to live right because of fear of the consequences if we didn’t. Even those of us who rebelled tried to make sure that we asked forgiveness before we went to bed, in case we died in the middle of the night.

While there are warnings throughout Scripture about judgment, and I do believe that there will be some sort of judgment when Jesus comes again, I think the more prevalent theme throughout the Bible is love. The Israelites were told that God was leading them in his love. They were commanded to love God with their entire being, and to love their neighbors as themselves. God presented himself to Moses as the God who is, “slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.” All through the Old Testament, the people of God were reminded of his love for them and of their responsibility to love God and to love others.

In the New Testament, Jesus states that all of God’s Law can be kept by loving God with our entire being and loving all others as ourselves. He said that the way others would know that we belong to him is our love for each other. In John’s first letter, he writes about the importance of love. 1 John 4:18 is the verse that puts to rest any notion that “fear is the heart of love.” This verse sums it up:
“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

Addendum: This morning, during the Lord’s Supper, we were asked the question, ”Do you really believe that King Jesus loves you.” I think at various times in our lives, we might all answer, ”Well no, not really,” It’s something we all struggle with from time to time, but we shouldn’t. Everything God tells us, in Scripture and in our spirit, tells us that he loves us with a furious, unquenchable love that reaches beyond eternity and defeats anything that could harm us.

Believe that King Jesus loves you. Let it permeate every fiber of your being. Remind others, and show them that same love. As Jesus said, ”Fear not.”

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Blast From the Past: A Baby Changes Everything

This was first posted in 2009. It’s still very relevant.

One night last year we watched “A Home for the Holidays”. It was a tv special about adoption. At the beginning, Faith Hill sang a song about the birth of Christ, and there was a recurring line that stated, “a baby changes everything”.

To me, that sums up the message of Christmas. A baby changes everything. The world that this baby was born into was under the control of an oppressive empire. The people of God were in bondage and waiting for a redeemer to come and free them. Then along comes this baby, born into a working class family and placed in a feeding trough. What many of the folks at that time didn’t realize was that the Redeemer had come. The One who would free them from bondage had arrived on the scene. Everything was about to change.

When Jesus began his public ministry and people began to follow him, most still didn’t realize the extent of the changes that were coming. They didn’t know that even their expectations had to change. They didn’t see that the bondage they were under was spiritual and not just political. They didn’t see that the Kingdom that was in their midst was a kingdom founded on love and grace, not on power.

Everything has changed. Because this baby was born in Bethlehem, because God took on humanity, we can now be saved from the oppression of sin. We can now enter the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of love. Everything has changed because this Kingdom does not operate like the kingdoms of this world. This Kingdom turns things upside down, or maybe it’s the kingdoms of the world that are upside down. Everything has changed because this Kingdom is concerned, not with serving self, but with serving others.

Everything has changed because this King will not die and allow another to take the throne. He has conquered death, and so His subjects will reign with Him forever in the new heavens and earth.

It’s true. A baby changes everything.

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Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – Becoming the Father

In The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen writes that the challenge for him is to become the father. It is a challenge that is full of difficulties. When we look again at the Father in our own stories, we can see how daunting it is.

Our Father is gracious and loving without condition. He gives us many good gifts, but the most important gift he gives is himself. The Father is reckless in giving himself to us. Jesus, who is the image of the Father, gave his very life for us, pouring out his blood for our salvation. We are granted grace and mercy without measure from an eternal, inexhaustible love. There is nothing our Father wouldn’t do for our good.

As children of God, we are called to be like him. When I look in a mirror, I see my dad. The eyes, the facial features, the hair (or lack thereof), the voice, all show whose son I am. The same is to be true of those who are children of the heavenly Father. As God is loving and compassionate, so we are to be loving and compassionate. As God is gracious and merciful, so we are to be gracious and merciful. As God gives himself, so we are to give ourselves. You get the idea.

In my late twenties my life changed as I became a father. Even though I was still a son, I was now a person with a child. That brought a change in responsibilities, and a change in perspective. As we mature in Christ, we are to leave both the prodigal and the elder son behind. We are still in need of fathering from God, but our vocation changes. We are now called to be the father. As I look at the father in the story, I see some things that will be true as we become the father. Nouwen states that the three ways to compassionate fatherhood are grief, forgiveness, and generosity.  

We grieve over those who have left home, we grieve over the injustice and abuse in the world, and we grieve over our own weakness. One aspect of grieving is realizing that we cannot save the one who has wandered away. The father in the story didn’t go after his son, but he watched and waited for him to return. So it is with us. Many times, all we can do is pray that God will turn the prodigal around. We can not go into the far country and drag them back. All we can do is wait and be ready to welcome them home.

This grieving makes us sensitive to others who are hurting, and the sensitivity leads us to forgive those who wrong us. As the father did, we forgive without question any and all who return. As Jesus said, we forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and so on. True forgiveness also reconciles. The father didn’t say to the prodigal, “I forgive you, but I think I’ll just keep you on as a servant.” He accepted him back as his beloved son. No strings attached.

The third way to compassionate fatherhood is generosity. The father spared nothing to celebrate his son’s return. He gave the best of everything, including himself. We are called to give ourselves to others in the same way. Yes, we may get hurt. I’m sure the father was hurt when the elder son refused to join the party, and I would guess the younger son wasn’t perfect after he was restored. He may well have cause his father more pain. We are to remember the hurt we have caused our Father and the grace he gives us regardless, and do the same for others.

May the Father enable us to be as gracious, loving, and compassionate to others as he is to us.

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Elder Son

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Father

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Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Father

The story in Luke 15 is popularly named for the prodigal son, but it could be titled, “The Story of the Prodigal Father.” Prodigal means recklessly extravagant, and I think that describes the actions of the father in the story. Jesus told this story in response to the criticism that he ate and drank with sinners. It is a picture of God’s extravagant love toward repentant sinners.

The father granted the younger son’s request, even though it was a slap in the face. As a father, I can begin to imagine the grief he felt as his son rejected him and everything he stood for. Rather than writing the son off as a lost cause, the story seems to indicate that the father was constantly looking for him to return. In spite of his grief he kept hoping. When the prodigal returned, the father saw him coming in the distance and ran to meet him. Imagine this dignified man running out to greet his son. In those days, one who did what the son had done would be met by the village elders if he returned and officially banished. The father was not only overjoyed to see his son, he was also protecting him.

Before the son could get his speech out, his father told the servants to prepare for a huge blowout party. He covered the son’s rag’s with a luxurious robe, put good sandals on his feet, and a ring on his finger. All of these were things a beloved son would wear, not a servant. There were no words of disapproval or recrimination, only grace and compassion. When the elder brother acted like a jerk and refused to join the party, the father went to him with grace, reminding him that he was also a beloved son. Again, there were no harsh words from the father.

We have the same kind of Father. When we wander away from him, forgetting who we are, he is waiting patiently for us to return. He knows we will return because his Spirit draws us. We are told in Scripture that God’s kindness leads us to repentance. He doesn’t force us back and hold us against our will. It’s grace and love that brings us to him, and it’s grace and love that keeps us home. In the same way, when we think we somehow have to perform to cause the Father to love us more, or think our good deeds mean we are better than our brothers, the Father calls us to remember that he loves us because he loves us. He doesn’t love us any less when we screw up, and he doesn’t love us any more when we do good things.

Sometimes we forget who our Father is, and who we are as his children. God calls us back to him, not as a servant. He calls us back, not as someone who has earned his love. No, the Father calls us to return home, remembering that we are his beloved children. He is ready to welcome us with open arms and celebrate our return.

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Elder Son

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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.

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Eastertide Thoughts

It has been one week since those of us in the western church celebrated Easter. The Orthodox tradition will celebrate Easter on May 2 this year. Eastertide is the period between Easter Sunday and Pentecost, so the celebration continues in many churches for a full 50 days. Personally, I think that’s a good idea.

This year, I’ve been doing much more thinking about the importance of Easter to those of us who follow the One who was raised from the dead. I think a 50 day celebration of the event that changed history is something that should be practiced much more than it is now.

This has been a momentous year for many of us, with a lot of things happening that caused us to think about what is really important and about the brevity of our lives here on this earth. A little over a year ago, I had a heart attack. Within a couple of weeks, everything was locked down because of a deadly virus. We didn’t get to celebrate Easter in person last year. We didn’t get to do a whole lot of anything in person last year.

We saw the number of cases and deaths grow as the year went on, and very few of us didn’t at least know someone who caught the virus. Add to this what seemed to be the death of reason and understanding in the civil discourse in this country, and the year looked more bleak as it dragged on. We made it to the end of the year, but the future looked very uncertain.

In some ways the future is looking better. In other ways, there is still turmoil and uncertainty. Personally, my health is much better now, but there are things that have happened to keep the realities of life in a broken world in the forefront. From friends and neighbors who have cancer to friends whose parents have fallen ill, from families that are broken to our small town reeling from a senseless murder and suicide, there is much to make one wonder if there really are any answers.

There are many questions that we may never have answered fully. There are some that may not be answered at all. That is why Eastertide this year has become meaningful to me. I believe that Easter is the answer. We may not have all the details filled in for us, but Easter means that death has been brought down, had all its teeth kicked out, and ground into the dust in defeat.

Because King Jesus rose from the dead and inaugurated his kingdom, I know that my friends with cancer will unltimately be healed and will live in the new creation. I know that there will be peace on earth and the swords will be beaten into plowshares, and there will be no war. I know that there will be no hatred or murder, no struggle over possessions, or arguments over ideas. There will be no cancer, heart trouble, Alzheimer’s or Huntington’s Disease. Every tear will be wiped away and everything sad will become untrue.

Let us rejoice and feast! Break out the champagne! There is nothing worth celebrating more than the fact that death has lost its sting, and the grave has no victory. It is not the end yet, but it will be all right in the end. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!