Jesus: - Wrecked for the Ordinary

Creative Gospel-Sharing: Eternal Hope on a Cardboard Sign

Fri, 19 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Ashley Huizenga writes from Byron Bay, Australia, where she and a group of friends creatively shared the redemptive message of Jesus through cardboard signs:

Byron Bay has been educational in finding new ways to approach ministry. The people here are mostly comprised of backpackers who come to get drunk. It's a surfing town and a magnet for people hanging on to the hippie lifestyle. Spirituality here is common and open for discussion with most of the population.

If you like reading the Bible, check out Zephaniah -- Byron is a lot like that book.

Creativity and tactic in how you present your message is extremely important in a place like this. Because it's spiritual, a lot of people already know a lot of what we might have to say. And a lot of them have heard it from people coming in but sharing the truth of Jesus in ways too brash for this community that's left a worn-out bad taste in their mouths.

One way we've found to be effective with sharing our message is by standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign. We write a phrase or question that will provoke conversation with passersby. The phrase/question gives us an opportunity to talk about God and salvation. Check out this video, and you can get a better idea:

Has the Gospel message become old and worn-out in some cultures? How could you creatively share it in a new, paradigm-shifting way... as it was intended?

Ashley is a 23 year-old native Floridian with a passion for art. She is currently on The World Race, an 11-month mission trip around the world.

Remedy for the Hurting Church

Sun, 14 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

How better to convince someone who Jesus is than to show them the reality of what He has done in our own lives. I wouldn't have a chance of matching wits with some of the scholars who have written numerous books on Jesus and the church. It is with heart and the painful experiences of life that I choose to stand toe to toe with those who make a mockery of the Bible and the life changing power of Christ.

It is with life experience that I can prove that "...God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise...." (1 Corinthians 1:27) It isn't a piece of paper hanging on a wall that qualifies me to stand up and demand change. It is the very scars of life that will transform the message of this book into a burning desire for a new way of thinking. My words were not merely written during intense thought and arduous study, but forged through many hours of sweat and tears. The following testimony is witness to the transforming power of Jesus:

Ah, the good life... or so I thought.

I came home from college after my first semester and married my high school sweetheart. Let's jump ahead about ten years. I was still preaching, and Angie and I now have a daughter and great, well-paying jobs. We built a brand new home, and both of us drove nice vehicles. I guess we weren't rich, but it sure felt like it to us. Things seemed all together lovely. Everyone with sense, however, knows that trouble starts brewing when life gets that comfortable.

What I'm about to tell you is for the glory of God. I have never publicly revealed it until now. In fact, I've met strong disapproval from old-school church people for even mentioning it in private conversations. I've been forbidden to talk about it by those in leadership. Sometimes people can give too much detail about their personal lives, even to the extent of giving the devil too much credit. This isn't one of those times. I believe our testimony will give hope to everyone who reads this.

In the tenth year of our marriage things began to fall apart. When I say fall apart, I mean we were divorced in a matter of six months. We were normal Christian people that just couldn't pull it together. We had allowed the devil a space, and he took it from there. I'm not going to point fingers at anyone but him. He was the author of it all and will never be forgiven. I will spend the rest of my life making him pay.

I'm here to tell you that it can happen. We were textbook pillars of the church. I was preaching and she was singing in the choir. We had a beautiful family and great incomes, and then one day, it was all gone. I can tell you that we went through a very normal divorce: We hated each other just like all divorcing couples. I can tell you that this was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. I would spend many nights begging God to let me die. It was an unimaginable pain, and so dark that I couldn't see any hope. It was during this time that I became mad at God and bitter. I decided that being a Christian had gotten me nothing but heartache and pain, so I turned my back and ran away.

For the next year, my life was a train wreck. I left a Christian counselor one day and decided that I was done. I went to the store and walked to the alcohol isle. (Keep in mind that I had never drank or done anything like that in my whole life.) I picked out a bottle of vodka and went to a graveyard. I hadn't eaten in days, I was a mess. I took a sip and realized that this stuff tasted like gasoline. It was so awful that I drank half the bottle in one big gulp. When I began to feel my limbs going numb, I used my cell phone to call for help. I then passed out, and was found face down in gravel. It was the worst day of my life. I could have died. God didn't keep me alive that day so that I could keep this story to myself. He raised me up so that I could shine a light into the darkness of others.

A year went by after our divorce, and God worked a miracle. I don't know how He did it, but He did. He's God, and that's enough for me. If you let Him, it will be enough for you, too. I'm not going to act like it was a quick fix because there was a lot of hurt and anger that both of us had to deal with. Nonetheless, Angie and I had a small ceremony; it was just the three of us and the minister. I've never seen my little daughter so happy. The really cool thing is that God can and will do it. Believe me: If He can put our marriage back together, He can perform miracles for you.

The above was an excerpt from Two Stones Between Us: A Remedy for the Hurting Church.

William is a writer, preacher, teacher, and missionary. He has been involved in Christian ministry for the last eighteen years, including a stint in the country of Belize in Central America. A dedicated husband and father of one very special little girl, he and his family reside in Indiana.

Making the Bible Better?

Thu, 11 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I was thinking about the Bible and how to communicate it a bit more effectively. A few years ago they reissued different bits of the Bible and they invited famous authors to write introductions to each separate book. But I reckon that's not enough.

An introduction with someone's opinions and thoughts about a Biblical book are okay but that won't really help people understand what is in the book. It won't help them to experience the laughter, the shock, the pathos and humanity.

The whole thing needs to be retold and re-imagined - understood from the original - but then translated so that people in our time and culture can understand it.

Which happens in the Bible, anyway. Different characters come along and take what happened a hundred years a go or a thousand years ago and they retell it so that it makes sense again for the people listening to it in their day.

So I thought we should get some famous directors to make movies of the different books. It shouldn't cost much cause we'll get them to do it on the cheap.
So this is my hit list.

I reckon we should get George Lucas to make Genesis, the beginning of everything, long ago in an empty void far, far away and all that. Big screen stuff - creation, the flood, Noah, Abraham, Joseph, all these massive stories, get Lucas on that one.

Spielberg could then do Exodus which is the big Moses story, parting of the Red Sea, fighting Egyptians, the ten plagues, gnats, boils, death, blood. Happy stuff like that. Then Mount Sinai, God and people meeting for the first time - lightning, fire, thunder, bang bang bang - special FX all over the place.

Tarantino could do the book of Judges because it's all about sex and violence. It's a strange time of heroics and dark deeds. It's called Judges but really it should be called Governors, because the story is that God doesn't want the people to have a king, because we all know what leaders are like - they want power and palaces and status and kudos. So God organises these judges to rise up temporarily to rule the people at times of crises. Some of them are hitmen or hitwomen, some are just really wise, some are heroes and villains all rolled into one. Inglorious Barstools you might say. There are loads of action scenes, and these governors appear and disappear when the job's done. Uma Thurman could be Deborah and Brad Pitt could be Samson.

Scorsese could do the book of Samuel - the rise of King David - politics and power and religion - lots of near-catholic guilt kicking around. A bad father - a lousy husband - a mean musician and a man who should never have looked out of his window at bathtime.

Ridley Scott should do the book of Acts - supernatural happenings, people dropping dead, shipwrecks and snakebites, it's stuffed full of mystery and mayhem. Scott could bring some of his moody atmospherics to all that.

Tony Scott should do the book of Joshua. The book of Josh is all about the Israelites taking the land of Canaan - lots of battles and military stuff and a huge brass band, Hans Zimmer should do the soundtrack - Crimson Tide in the desert.

The gospels should be done by Danny Boyle - Mr Slumdog himself - he'd bring an honest earthy style to the story of Jesus and his friends and enemies. A sort of miracle-spotting with Jesus busting out of a shallow grave then melting away into the sunshine 28 days later. That kind o' thing.

Peter Jackson could do the Book of Revelation - Lord of the Rings all over again - only shorter.

Guy Ritchie should do the book of Kings - basically a book about loads of - kings. Again, lots of sex and violence, a lot of fighting and deposing going on - a sort of Lock, stock and too many smoking funeral pyres. But to make it more streetwise would be good, maybe set it in the seedy London underworld.

Joe Johnson did Atonement so he could do Ruth - another tale of loss and heartache.
Ang Lee could do the book of Esther - schemes and harems and Shakespearean comedy.

And Tim Burton should do the book of Job, with of course, Johnny Depp playing the lead role. Job's all about suffering - very long, way too long really, could have been done in 10 chapters. I think we need to get Tim Burton in there, get him to really draw out the angst and darkness in Job's life, and maybe just tell it in a cartoon kind of way.

So there we go - that's what I reckon we should do - get the Bible away from the churches and into the multiplexes.

Dave likes loud music, good comedy, great films and Tony Parson's novels. He finds the Bible hard to read so is dedicating much of his time to retelling it using all kinds of inappropriate things. That's not his natural hair colour.

Shaping Jesus: A Reflection on Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thu, 4 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

With the celebration of the birthday of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., we see where Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. is used to bolster movements and causes that he did not specifically speak on. For example, in Raleigh-Durham, NC, a gay rights activist is torqued that a pastor who preaches a historical understanding of the bible's view on homosexuality will be speaking at a tribute to Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Regardless of what either person in question believes is right or wrong, both are imposing their beliefs onto Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., and for very different reasons.

Honestly, with what we have been told (the King family is very careful with their messaging in this regard), both views could be considered as being compatible with what Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. believed (again, as far as we, or at least I, know).

I see this argument every year, and while I do suspect that Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. would not view gay rights as compatible with Scripture, that really isn't the issue at hand. Let's go back in time to 2008.

Sen. Barack Obama was the Democrat Party's nominee for President of the United States. While I freely admit that I was, and am still, not a fan of his, his passion and charisma were undeniable. His speeches were also quite good. However, what was amazing (in that he did it as well as he did, but not that he did it, as all politicians do) was how two different political views saw a completely different person. What was even more amazing, was how supporters viewed him differently. While he was pushing for health care reform of some sort, I heard different supporters come away with different meanings of his statements and words. In other words, they put on him what they wanted to see.

It is the same, but more so, with Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.. Or, should I say Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.. Both Reverend and Doctor are correct, but for each person who reads this, Rev. and Dr. will probably provide different starting points, and it doesn't matter that his doctorate was theological.

Famous people, especially dead ones, are easy to put one's own beliefs onto. We will often look at them, and interpret everything they did or said through the lenses of our beliefs.

Christians (not all, but far too many) have done the same thing. We take our beliefs (communism, capitalism, race, nationality, culture) and shape Jesus. However, if we read the scriptures and the views of other Christian people (especially from other cultures or theologies), it has a tendency to shake our lenses a bit. Sometimes more than we like.

We like our Jesus just like we like our politicians and celebrities: safe for us, but not for them. Sometimes I've been guilty of that, too. However, with Jesus, at least, if is safe for everyone, then we can be sure that that's a false view of Him.

Ian is a husband and father of three. He is working in the manufacturing world, while working on his ordination. He lives in Northern Idaho.

Jesus and the Art of Storytelling

Sat, 16 Jan 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Animated text scrolling across movie screens often read, "Based on a true story..." as if it mattered. Western culture, influenced heavily by the Athenian philosopher Aristotle, has taught us to become obsessive in matters of historical accuracy, measurement, and observation.

The scientific method, pioneered by Aristotle, was the cornerstone of the numerous technological revolutions that changed the world in the most recent centuries.

Obviously, careful measurement is important in life. Less obviously, it's not as important as we may think.

Eastern philosophers were prized for their ability to tell rich and compelling stories. Stories and parables were the lifeblood of the Near-Eastern ancient world. The art of storytelling was so important that history was often recorded in narrative format. History books did not exist, their role being carried out by works we would classify as "fiction." To the ancients, this was common practice.

What's more important - what happened, or what we can learn from what (may or may not have) happened?

The Eastern way of thinking favors the latter in its approach to life. This is why Jesus, a Jewish rabbi (religious philosopher), depended on parables to convey his truths. The art of storytelling was a valuable skill to possess. This explains why Jesus created the elaborate narrative of the "Good Samaritan," when he could have more efficiently simply stated, "Be nice to everyone."

The real power always lies in the story behind the story. The essential nature of stories invites us to become immersed in them, in order that we might learn from them. Myth, story, legend-the various forms of narrative are all comprehensive in that they not only seek to inform, but transform, their participants.

No matter the preferred medium-cinema, poetry, canvas, speech-stories are always told. The danger never lies in what stories are told, but how we react to them.

Many (somehow) deny that the Jewish Holocaust of World War II ever happened. While the evidence is conclusive in favor of its existence, historical accuracy is not the real issue-the transformative nature of the event is. A tragedy as horrific as the Holocaust must never be reduced to a historical event.

Humanity will never learn from a history it merely memorizes, for the real power lies in the story behind the story.

This Eastern mindset is essential for people of faith. Realizing the Bible was written by Eastern authors to an Eastern audience living in an Eastern context changes everything. Perhaps "historical" events such as the seven-day creation and the Israelite exodus need to be creatively reexamined in light of the deeper stories they tell.

Utilizing this Eastern mindset, historical accuracy takes a backseat to moral exploration. When the focus of religion is found in the acceptance of historical events, faith becomes a passive event. However, to its near-Eastern audience, the word "faith" did not mean what it means today.

Faith, in the ancient cultures, was a word meant to describe a belief that transformed present reality. Faith divorced from works was described as "dead." An active application of belief was required to have "faith." The mental acceptance of historical events was passive in nature, and therefore could not pass for "faith." According to many scholars, the biblical word translated "faith" can just as easily be translated as "obedience."

How will we respond to what we have heard? Faith comes down to obedience. It's time to stop shunning those who believe in the deeper story but have trouble accepting its surface twin, for the real power lies in the story behind the story. Who decided we should reverse the order?

Tim is a writer hoping that somehow, someway, his work will influence the world in a positive way. He is currently an undergraduate student at North Central University in downtown Minneapolis.

Christmas: Bringing Hope, Not Religion

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Religion is an opium for the masses Karl Marx once said. And sadly... he was right!

Religion as a set of doctrinal statements that confirm canonical gospels or historical proofs to follow, become indicative of political tyrranical governments that tried to rule the life and deaths of its people. The ancient Roman government sought full ownership of its people at any cost to the people. Emperor Constantine thought it was in the best interest of the world, as they knew it then, to be forced into a mandated state conversion whereby all the participants in the Roman way of life would have to follow Jesus rather than have a choice or not. (Before I go on, I am not trying to attack Christianity for the sake of attacking certain aspects of it, but to bring us to a closer understanding of what we were meant for, and maybe how far we have truly missed the mark.)

There are several examples in our history of Christian contemporaries demonstrating the same destructive tenacity and promoting similar agendas. Christmas used to be about giving not imposing. But, we must to come realize the hard truth that religion as a system is failing the world. Religion as a set of doctrinal statements, although helpful, does not ultimately benefit the world. It does not rid the world of the AIDs epidemic, it does not give food to the starving, it does not bring hope into the death that war so evidently condones, and the list could go on, but you get the point.

This is why religion as a discipline is falling short like it did in the days of Jesus, it's failing us as communities who claim to follow Jesus of Nazareth. And ultimately failing the world which Jesus already came to fully save and partners with us to restore.

Christmas is about birth.

Advent is about the arrival of Hope on the scene. But what is hope? Maybe the intrinsic characteristics of hope were always progressively maleable rather than something aggressively unchanging. Maybe hope by its own admission is circumstantial, and yet still remains tenacious and defiant that all will be well against all odds. Maybe advent wasn't only about the arrival of someone, maybe it was also about the departure of something else that might easily have taken the place of which was to come, in this regard the birth of Jesus.

But, Jesus carried with him a deep hope for change. A deep hope that invoked a new charter for all people to experience full reinvention of life, love, peace and grace. It's the kind of hope, that in the midst of countries failing to deliver peace and abandoning hope as a long lost child, that hope might come in the form of someone who is willing to find a way to help those in need. Maybe hope is listening to someone who lost someone dear, even if they annoy you. Maybe hope is the ability to stick up for someone no matter what it costs you.

Maybe hope is pushing your own religious boundaries to help defend the cause of someone else. If we believe in Advent, then we believe in hope. If we believe in hope, then hope is a movement all can participate in. But hope isn't religious, it doesn't claim a denomination or a set of doctrines. Hope is for everyone. And it arrives on the scene, just in the nick of time.

So, in your circle of influence, who is crying out for hope? Who is waiting for the advent of your arrival? That is what it truly means to experience Christmas, to be fully present, fully broken, fully aware and fully available to be God in the flesh, to carry the incarnational message that all are welcome at the cave-manger of Jesus.

If we continue to spend all of our energies bickering over who believes what about Jesus and how right or wrong they might be, the world misses out on the hope that Jesus intended to bring.

Christmas is about bringing all of our differences together as the first story did and to share in our commonalities.

The three wise men were most likely Zoroastrian astrologers who visited Jesus a couple years after his birth. They were the mystics in their religious group of people. The shepherds were the most revolting of people in their society. Then there was a teenage woman who carried God into the world, but was still a woman who lived in a culture where woman were valueless.

Maybe Christmas is about bringing our views to together at the foot of Hope. Maybe advent is about absolving ourselves of the need to be right, and share love as an agent of transformational love.

George loves the outdoors, singing in the shower and doing underwater, synchronized pilates. His new book Jesus Bootlegged: Recapturing the Stolen Message of Jesus for The World will be out soon. You can read more about him at his blog.

Jesus, Love, and Hell: Response to Shane Claiborne's Letter

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Shane Claiborne recently wrote an article for Esquire Magazine about the love of Jesus and directed it specifically to non-Christians. In the article, he speaks about the love of a Christ who may not always be on the side of the religion that represents his name. He suggests that maybe the televangelists and street preachers are wrong -- that God, indeed, is love, not judgment and condemnation and even hatred. Furthermore, he apologizes to those who have been hurt by the church and pleads with them to reconsider their thoughts about God.

As you can imagine, this little letter has sparked quite a bit of controversy (as do most of the things that Claiborne does). Here's my imperfect take on it, humbly submitted to you...

First of all, let me congratulate Shane for doing something Jesus would do -- go to a questionable place (i.e. Esquire.com, where there are links to photos of half-nude women and articles about the history of marijuana) and talk about God.

While the fact that this article was written for Esquire undoubtedly offended many, it was a bold, courageous act. It was reminiscent of the parable of the great banquet in Luke 14, where the master is turned down by all of his guests who are too busy to come to the feast. So, he invites all of society's rejects to come and enjoy the banquet, commanding his servant, "Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full."

Maybe the "roads and country lanes" in our context is Esquire Magazine (for starters). This is the love of God -- a radical desire to pursue his Creation, no matter how broken it may be, so that we may become his children. When I am at my wit's end about how this whole God-thing works, I always come back to this relentless, ridiculous love of a Father for ragamuffins that comforts me. It's real, it's offensive, and it's something that the world needs.

Second, let add a layer of caution/discernment: I don't know what Shane believes. However, without knowing exactly what he believes about heaven, hell, and salvation, we can still respect and find truth in some of what he says. I've read all of his books and can tell you that while I do still kind of scratch my head at some of what he seems to believe, I have also learned quite a bit.

Over a year ago, I interviewed Shane Claiborne on the phone for about an hour and walked away thoroughly impressed with his humility, love for God and Scripture, and his commitment to serving the poor. He responded with fairly orthodox answers to questions about the Bible, evangelism, and the social Gospel. In the process, I realized that we don't have to have each other "figured out" -- we don't need to nail down exactly what one person believes in order to agree with her. That's why I can nod my head in agreement with Shane when he says:

I did not choose to devote my life to Jesus because I was scared to death of hell or because I wanted crowns in heaven... but because he is good. For those of you who are on a sincere spiritual journey, I hope that you do not reject Christ because of Christians. (Read more: What If Jesus Meant All that Stuff?)

Shane makes this same point in the article, pointing to the parable of the Good Samaritan, explaining how God often uses unlikely, irreligious characters to tell his story or teach us about true godliness. If you're someone who is reading this and struggling with Shane's theology, consider the possibility that you may still be able to learn something from him.

Third, a short, creed and a dispute: I believe in hell, I believe in heaven, and I trust God enough to make the judgment calls, regarding who goes where. That's why this statement that Claiborne made in the article was somewhat disconcerting: "If those of us who believe in God do not believe God's grace is big enough to save the whole world... well, we should at least pray that it is." What does that mean, exactly? It seems that Claiborne feels that hell is a piece of Christian theology that requires an apology. At one point, I felt a similar amount of discomfort with this idea. After all, who hasn't heard the following question and been stumped: "How can a loving God send people to hell?"

Sadly, the idea of hell has been, in some cases, misunderstood and even abused to further a religious or political agenda that has no basis in the love or compassion of Christ. While it doesn't bring God any delight to see people go to hell, he is equally grieved when we assume that sin is somehow tolerable or acceptable. So, this suggestion made by Shane that hell is a contradiction of God's love doesn't make sense. I believe in the truth of the Bible, the radical grace of a loving God who can save anyone, and the punishment of unrepentant disobedience against God.

There isn't necessarily a disconnect between love and punishment. Any parent can understood that one doesn't really exist without the other. The truth is that in all of our altruism and compassion, all of us want to believe that the universe is a fair place, that events like 9/11 and the Holocaust do not go unnoticed. We want to believe that there is justice and that the Creator of all of what we see and know rights all wrongs, one way or the other.

And I think that he does.

Jeff graduated from Illinois College, a small liberal arts school, with a degree in Spanish and Religion. He lives in Nashville, TN. He works for Adventures In Missions, edits this silly little magazine, and loves to do new things. He just got married in January. Check out his blog: Pilgrimage of the Heart.

Chillbumps and Crucifixions: The Truth Behind Suffering

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I have, in the past, caught myself saying on my way to church on Sunday, "God, I want you to move this morning." This in itself seems like a reasonable and honest request. I love to see God working and moving in lives around me. But, looking back, I realize that at times my motives were not always as pure as all that.

I was raised in the Pentecostal culture. Yup, those people you see on TV hooting and dancing, that was the kind of church I was used to (and no, there were no snakes harmed in the actions of my services). I have seen people healed and lives changed in the churches I have attended over the years. So, I am used to feeling those "Holy Spirit" chillbumps on my arms. Now, while I know there is a debate over whether that is really the Spirit or just emotion, I am not going to go into that. I will say that I do believe that the Holy Spirit moves even today among his people.

But, back to my point...in looking back, I realized that many times I have asked God to move was so that I could get that whole "feel good" experience. I didn't really want to have God change me or others. I just wanted to feel warm and fuzzy.

As I admit to this, I am sure I am not the only one who has felt this way. I know there are many times other believers in churches just want to experience the "feel goods." I mean, why not? We are joint heirs with Christ, so we should be able to enjoy the sweetness of the presence of God. But, as God has led me to study lately, I am being shown the other side of the "chillbumps."

The crucifixion.

Lets take a closer look at Romans 8:16-17, the passage that calls us "joint heirs"

The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs - heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (emphasis mine)

This is the part that I have so often left out or overlooked. For us to share in the glory, we must also share in the suffering. It's a package deal. And, as believers, we do encounter sufferings. Whether being ridiculed for our faith or our stance on moral issues, or just the normal sufferings that every human experiences, we will have problems.

But, I do think there is a different kind of "suffering" we have to endure. Later on in Galatians we read:

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20, ESV)

It is hard for me to wrap my head around that passage. I mean, if God wants good for me and such, why do these passages say I have to suffer and share in the crucifixion?

The answer may lie in the second part of Galatians 2:20: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." God is not out to get us or to hurt us, but rather have us become more like Christ. We become more like Christ by letting go of what we desire and going after what he desires.

This, I have found, can be painful. It says in John 5:2 "Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit." Now, I know that trees don't have nerve endings, but imagine if they did. Those pruning shears would hurt, man! But anyone who has ever working in a garden will tell you it has to be done to make the tree bloom properly.

Again, this is what God will do with us.

God love us. He wants his presence in our lives. He wants us to pray that we are used by him. But, be aware that as we pray for this, God will change us and give us exactly what we are asking for.

And this is a wonderful, intense, experience.

Jon is a writer, occasional speaker and a all around nice guy. When not working, he enjoys playing his Fender Telecaster and programing mad beats on antiquated drum machines.

Does God Hide from Us?

Wed, 9 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I'm noticing a trend in our cultural thinking, one that disturbs me. The more I converse with those of my generation (twenty-somethings) that truly have a desire to follow Christ, the more I find this trend plays out. What may make this trend so scary is that the hearts and intentions of these individuals are sincere! Our desire (notice I now include myself in this group, because I have unwittingly adopted this trend, to my chagrin) is the pursuit of the truth, the pursuit of righteousness, and a pursuit of the deeper things of God.

Here's a scenario to put things in context:

Let's say I'm overseas and I come across a blind man sitting on the street corner begging for money. I'm moved to compassion and take my companions over thinking maybe we can introduce this man to the hope of Christ (if he isn't yet aware of this hope). We interact, we listen, and we resolve to pray healing for this man. Jesus did it all the time, right? So why shouldn't we?

We begin to pray. We offer a litany of theologically correct prayers up to God being sure to include the formulaic "If it's your will" disclaimer. We remind God of how much attention and glory He'd receive from moving in this way. We say "amen" and look...

"Well sometimes these things take time..."

"God's still in control, maybe He has a greater plan..."

"Maybe we should pray something different..."

Hear me clearly on this: all good, plausible theological proofs. Here's what disturbs me: the second we saw that blind man, these theological proofs flashed through our head. We actually engaged in this situation with a Plan B, an explanation for why God wasn't going to move.

I've recently had a couple of conversations that have shown me how deep this disillusionment really goes. This is what I've heard:

"I pray but when God doesn't answer I'm sure He's just waiting on me to decide something..."

"I ask God to reveal Himself in a new way but He stays silent...He must be testing my faith..."

"I want God to move but [and here's the holy grail]... it's probably just not his will."

Is this the God we serve? A God who stays distant from us on purpose? A God who doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't respond to our cries for intimacy or move in compassionate, merciful ways?

We live a life full of the "exceptions". We watch God fail to miraculous move and justify it. In fact, we end up living lives of these "special cases" when God doesn't move immediately and thus we console our disappointment with faith in "God's sovereignty" (ie. a greater plan we'll never be privy to, because that's God's M.O.: to keep things as secretive and covert as possible and ultimately away from us).

I don't want to disavow truth, but I want to expose the contentedness we have with powerless and intimacy-less lives.

Why is it okay to believe that God speaks but live a life without ever hearing His voice?

We say Jesus is our ultimate example but never once operate as He did...we never heal the sick, multiply food for the hungry or raise the dead.

But at the end of this discussion, it's not about power, it's about a relationship. What intimacy can we even conceive with someone who doesn't speak and may not ever be around...it's like having a pen pal that wrote you one letter a long time ago, but whom you consider your best friend of all time.

We believe God is present but often question if He's spoken because His words sound an awful lot like common sense.

It will always be academia until we truly encounter God. God's not hiding, we're just content only looking in the places we've already looked.

Jimmy lives in Georgia and works for Adventures In Missions in the World Race program.

Is the Cross the Wrong Symbol for Christians?

Tue, 8 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Symbols have power. For some, symbols might hold something even deeper than a memory, maybe your identity. For those who follow the god of Wal-Mart, it might be the cheesy yellow pin with a grin on it. For those who follow the god of the Dallas Cowboys, your symbol might be the blue star of Texas. And others who say they follow Yahweh, their symbol is a cross. For those in the Old Testament, their symbol may have been the burning bush or the two tablets or a map with little traveling nomads on it.

We can't get away from the reality that symbols shape us. Symbols might even have more influence than we think.

Semiotics, as an academic discipline, seeks to make sense of symbols and what they mean and why they mean what they mean. Take for example, the cross. We might think of the cross as a symbol of atonement or a symbol of self-sacrificial love or maybe a symbol of death. For Rome, the cross didn't signify atonement. It signified someone who deserved to die because they were insurrectionists. It was a tool of embarrassment and public shame. It signified failure on the part of the crucified ones. It signaled victory to the way of Rome. But, why the cross? Why has the cross come to mean so much to those who follow in the way of Jesus?

Some might say because it is the ultimate act of love and salvation of the God-man who came to earth on our behalf. Others say it is a symbol of deep hope and invitation to the world. If I can pose a question at this point in the conversation:

How would the electric chair be a symbol of hope or redemption or atonement?

Don't get me wrong, I think we needed Jesus to save us, but it is an act that is past tense in the sense of universal salvation. He is still saving us, and for that I think the cross can be a reminder of what He did for us and what He is doing. But the cross as a symbol becomes a bit anemic to the story of Jesus only because, according to Biblical witness, He comes back to life. And so, why isn't the symbol we hold dear the tomb? It was a sign of victory over sin, over death, over darkness and destructive ways of living. It was an act of defiant hope against all odds. The cross wasn't defiant, it was deadly. That's what the purpose of the cross was and is and anything else like it today would hold the same stigma. So, why end the story there in our symbols when we all know it didn't actually end there?

I think we might have been misled to think that the cross was the point. And so our symbols have gotten mixed up. Think of it like a radio signal. Every radio has its own signal it uses to broadcast its' station to the world. Now, those signals can even go over the Internet. But, we can easily flip the dial and switch over to another radio station because static is just that tricky. And so maybe in the historic static of semiotics, either the people who directly followed Jesus or those who followed after them might have mixed up their signals and have turned an instrument of death into hope. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It is good to restore paradoxes, but that's if the story we subscribe to ends there, and as we know it, it doesn't.

It ends with resurrection. Which is a better symbol for hope. A better symbol to empower us to go and resurrect love, peace, grace and redemption wherever we go!

What do you think? Is the cross a good symbol for Christianity or is the tomb a better one?

If you liked this article check out Vampire Christians: Jesus is More Than the Cross

George loves the outdoors, singing in the shower and doing underwater, synchronized pilates. He is currently working on a book entitled Jesus Bootlegged: Recapturing the Stolen Message of Jesus for The World. You can read more about him at his blog.

Jesus' Five Secrets of Discipleship

Wed, 2 Dec 2009 00:00:00 GMT

For a couple of years, I've been trying to write a book that addresses the subject of how our model of discipleship doesn't look like how Jesus taught his followers. As I've studied the Master, I see him doing five things that most modern Christians don't do. I call these practices the five "secrets" of Jesus.

Since sharing these ideas, I've heard many believers sound off in response. Apparently, others have also sensed the lack of these practices in many fellowships and churches (something I would love to see change). Last year, I spoke at some Youth Specialties conferences, and one morning in Nashville I did a podcast on the subject (you can hear it here).

Here are the five secrets:

Secret #1: Go with the goers

When I asked preacher and prayer warrior Peter Lord about how to disciple, the first thing he told me was, "Go with the goers." He believed in a remnant and was hoping that there was one still left in America. He was exceedingly disappointed with the shallowness of the Christian church in America and the lack of teaching what he called the "fundamentals" to new believers.   As we talked with this man, even late in his life, he had this sense of urgency and priority - as if he were saying to us, "Don't waste your time with people who aren't really seeking the kingdom first. Life's short."

Although he doesn't pastor a church now or speak much anymore, he still meets several times a week with individuals to counsel and disciple them. As he shared his insights with us, he kept asking, "Are you with me?" Maybe it was just a quirk of his, or something cultural from growing up in Jamaica. But I think that's a question we need to continually ask of those we disciple, "Are you with me?"

Secret #2: Model greatness
When I talk to young people in particular, I drive one point home: "You are not a mistake or a cosmic blip. You were not born for comfort and a cubicle. You were made to hitch your life to a great cause. You were made for greatness." This is true for all of us.

Many of us have been told what we can't do for our entire lives. That's why I rebelled. I knew there had to be a great cause somewhere and as a senior in college I found it. Pol Pot was killing off his country. Two million of them. Cambodia was dying. The genocide was spilling onto the national press. I knew that was it.

I knew that whatever greatness was in me wasn't about me. At 21 years of age, I learned that greatness depended on serving a great cause.

Secret #3: Create security and danger
Your first challenge is to become trustworthy and to help your disciple trust God with their identity. You're second job is to throw them into the deep end and help them live there.

Unless we are safe to ourselves, we can't ever be dangerous to the enemy. We can only ever gather up the courage we need as we probe the recesses of our souls and map the places at one time marked "forbidden." Wounds we received at a tender age can grow infected and fester unless they are either leached of their poison or cauterized.

Secret #4: Invest deep
In this decentralized, disconnected society in which we live, you must design connection. To connect with your disciple requires your intentionality. And when you connect, it requires your vulnerability.

Exposing your areas of weakness is a costly and brave act. It takes a strong person to say, "I'm messed up too." But sharing that kicks off a cycle of reciprocity that helps lead your disciple into realms of self-discovery where they can begin to see that only God is adequate to help them. And ultimately, trust-building is of no use unless you put it to the test in challenging your disciple to grow at the deepest level.

Secret #5: Invest long
If Jesus invested three years in his disciples (that's 15,000 hours!) using an intensive model of ministry, that should be our pattern too. We've just gotten a little far afield from his pattern.  The average youth minister may get three hours a week invested in a student's life. That's 468 hours over three years. Not even 3% of Jesus' model. Of course we're going to fail! The amazing thing is that we'd so easily sell out to a model that has so little hope of success.  The answer is radical: follow Jesus' pattern. Remember how skittish the disciples were after he'd died? They just barely caught on - it took time for them to get it. Making disciples takes time! It is relational, There are no shortcuts.

Click here to listen to the podcast: "The 5 Secrets of Jesus"

Seth is the executive director of Adventures In Missions -- an organization that sends people on short-term mission trips around the world. He lives in Gainesville, GA with his wife Karen. You can visit his blog "Radical Living in a Comfortable World" at sethbarnes.com.

Vampire Christians: Jesus Is More Than the Cross

Tue, 6 Oct 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Have you ever been in one of those moods where you just didn't want to cook? Or there was nothing really appetizing eyeballing you in the refrigerator. So you opted for the fast food option. To be honest, that was our family's motto growing up, we all loved our fast food runs. Sometimes, we would jump in the car and make a whole road trip of it.

When I was younger, and even into my late teens I would love to get the McDonalds' happy meal. Why? Because of the prize inside.

I wasn't as worried about gorging myself full of greasy fries (although, that was part of the joy), but rather it was what I had waiting for me in the bottom of the "M"-shaped box. The prize gave me something to look forward; the meal is what I had to get through to get to it.

I wonder if that's we've done with Christianity?

In his book The Great Omission, author Dallas Willard says this about our views on salvation. Listen in:

The gospel of sin management produces vampire Christians who want Jesus for his blood and little else... At the heart of right-wing theology is the individual forgiveness of sins. On the left it is the removal of social or structural evils. The current gospel then becomes a gospel of sin management. Transformation of heart and character is no part of the redemptive message. Moment to moment human reality is not the arena of faith and eternal living. What right and left have in common is neither has a coherent framework of knowledge and practical direction adequate to personal transformation toward the abundance and the obedience emphasized in the New Testament.

Erwin McManus, pastor and cultural revolutionary of Mosaic, a church community in Los Angeles, says something along the same lines:

"How is it that, for many of us, being a good Christian is nothing more than being a good person? The entire focus of our faith has been the elimination of sin, which is important but inadequate; rather than the unleashing of a unique, original, extraordinary, wonderfully untamed, faith."

Have we done this? Have we reduced the message of Jesus to a prize waiting for us at the bottom of the box? Have we cheapened our journey by reducing the words of Jesus down to something that we get? This is a question we all need to be willing to ask. We can't afford to make the message of Christianity simply about the death of Jesus. There was more to it, wasn't there?

I distinctly remember something hidden in the details of the story about a risen Savior and a charter to go and change the world. I wonder if the theologies of salvation and Christianity have become a bit anemic. Didn't Jesus challenge us to love our neighbor? To show grace unconditionally? To give without receiving? To help the poor, the widow and the child?

Isn't there more to Christianity than wanting Jesus for his blood? How does that make him feel?

The phrase "follow me" in first-century Palestine meant much more than walk down this road with me. Especially if it left the lips of a Rabbi. It meant that as a follower we are to be just like the Rabbi. Do what he does. And do all of it.

Listen. Challenge. Cry. Heal.

Wouldn't it be the worst thing if the gospel we now have is the gospel that never was? Or that we have simply dismembered certain parts of the original message of Jesus and put together a gospel that looks a bit less like itself? It's time to recapture the holistic gospel of Jesus. But how do we start? By realizing that what we have isn't what was meant to be. There is more.

Jesus came to give "life and life more abundantly." His words were opportunities for life, for people to chase after him.

Like Willard says above, the message we have tends to not focus on the transformational aspects of what it means to be one who follows in the way of Jesus. This isn't about a list of do's and don'ts, that would take us back to a place of sin management. We have been told for far too long that we are not good enough, that we have nothing to offer. In my study of the Jewish understanding of God, I have come to the conclusion that God has a pretty high view of mankind. Otherwise, why would he want to spend time with us?

If Christ came to save us from our sin, then we are no longer sinners. "Sin," is a temporary word. If we are focusing on the problem all the time, then there is no room for what it looks like to live and be right. What it looks like to be Jesus. This is so much deeper than discipleship. This is an inner transformation of the soul - the mystical and mysterious kind of transformation.

Jesus is more than the Cross. He knows that. What will it take for us to know that?

The Other Half of the Gospel: Everyone

Tue, 8 Sep 2009 00:00:00 GMT

When I go to the store and I'm perusing the candy aisle, I purposefully walk away with a package of one of my favorite candy bars -- Almond Joy! I don't come away with Snickers or any other B-rate sweet, because there might be a chance that my wife might like it and then I would have to share. Luckily, she doesn't like Almond Joy. So, I have it all to myself. There is something empowering in knowing we can have what we want to ourselves. That we can choose to share or not to share. What if we have somehow taken our experience of candy bars into our theology?

What if the message of Jesus was actually meant for a wider audience. What if his message about a kingdom and a way life was also meant for the world? Sure, we can agree it was meant to go to the world. But, what if He was already speaking to the world when he shared his message? You see, his audience wouldn't have just been made up of his inner twelve ragamuffins. His messages would have been heard by what most would have known as the "unacceptables". People who were on the fringe of society, lepers, the unclean, the demonized, the bleeding woman and others who you wouldn't want to be seen in public with.

When Jesus is sitting on a rock (the posture of a rabbi) teaching about organic substances like salt and light and then brings in a city to cap it all off, (he would have said this quite a few times; part of his nomadic sermon collection), He would have been empowering all the people eavesdropping. He would have been saying, you are like this salt that is influential and permeates every aspect of your culture.

You see Christ was in the business of building a global kingdom. He was pioneering a cosmological kind of ethos and believed everyone could be a part. If they wanted to.

Let's take a look at who his inner twelve were. Luke was this Gentile doctor. A practical healer. People would have visited him for medical help. It would be too easy to overlook what a Gentile was and simply label him an outsider. A Gentile was also outside the religious faith, not just a denominational difference... he would have been more like a modern-day Buddhist or maybe what we might more closely consider as a Native American healer. He was outside the fold according to the Pharisees. And Jesus entrusted the Kingdom to this guy?

Also, Mary Magdelene who also might of been one of the financiers of Jesus ministry was an ex-prostitute who might have actually quite easily slipped back into the practice. So Jesus' ministry was sustained by a prostitute. She held up the ministry of Jesus. And Jesus supported her by believing she had what it took to build the Kingdom of God on earth.

Then we meet up with a guy named Matthew. A tax-collector. Now, try to imagine a tax-collector who randomly shows up on your doorstep for a routine surprise audit. All those feelings your feeling now would have been what most of the Jewish people would have felt plus a side-order of betrayal. Jewish tax-collectors were known as double-crossers. It would be like your best friend turning you in for something you didn't do. The ultimate of all betrayers. They worked for enemy Rome. They not only collected taxes from their own people, but they would also overcharge each person and whatever the difference was they would pocket it. And for the most part, the price was ludicrously outrageous. It actually helped in creating the homeless population. This was Matthew. A betrayer.

Judas was most likely part of a band of people called the Sicarii. The Sicarii were a bunch of extreme nationalists who believed that the only good Roman, was a dead Roman. Not to mention that Judas was also the one in line to betray his friend Jesus for some money. So, Judas would have been a terrorist, a mercenary of sorts who according to our story would have only been looking out for number one. And yep, you guessed it, Jesus chose him too.

A mystic healer. A prostitute. A political thief. A terrorist. And this is just getting started. This is who Jesus chose to build His Kingdom with.

Hmmm... I wonder if we are only aware of half the message of the gospel. Who are we choosing?

George loves the outdoors, singing in the shower and doing underwater, synchronized Pilates. He is currently working on a book entitled "Jesus Bootlegged: Recapturing the Stolen Message of Jesus for The World". You can read more about him at his blog.

The Message of Jesus: A Street Faith

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

If the message of Jesus is so wonderful, why are we only convincing 10% of our community? In my local area, where there are about 22,000 inhabitants, no more than about 2,000 go to the 14 churches in my town. So I have been going back to the beginning. Going through Mark's account of Jesus' life, to see how He started it all. Not just as an academic study, but to learn how I should be doing it today.

This is not another rant at complacent churches. This is a personal journey to understand how I ought to be living in the 21st century in order to get the message of Jesus out there. No secret messages, no new theories. Just going back to basics. After all, I've been involved at the cutting edge of churches for 40 years, so I have to have been part of the problem!

For instance, I've been wanting to see more "signs and wonders following." And that's the point. They follow. Jesus used them to say, in effect, "what I'm saying is right. And I'll prove it to you by healing this person." So often in recent years I've been longing to see a healing, or a miracle, in order to awaking peoples' interest in the church. In effect I've been saying, "come on God; work a miracle and we'll see people coming into the Kingdom." It's not wrong to want to see God moving in power. Yet Jesus says it's when we lift Him up that all men will be drawn to Him. I thought I was communicating effectively, I thought I was lifting up the name of Jesus, but if we're not getting through to the 90%, that cannot be the case.

The message hasn't changed. The writer to the Hebrews reminds us that "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today, and for ever." (Hebrews 13:8) Are we at the point where, yet again, we think we are communicating clearly, but actually the 90% haven't a clue what we're talking about?

And I am the communicator of the message. Or more exactly, what I am is the message, backed up by what I say. It's not about religious activity, it's about how I treat those around me. Jesus castigated the Pharisees that had traveled the 120 or so miles from Jerusalem to Galilee to check out what the "little local problem" was. Quoting the prophet Isaiah He noted, "These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me." Later, when His own disciples asked for clarification, He explained that following God meant changing their mind-set. (Mark 7.21-23).

Jesus' message differed from the Pharisees' message. Theirs was about rules and regulations; about doing the right thing at the right time. It was an elitist message that meant that when they had been out and about in the market place, they had to wash their hands to get rid of the "pollution" of being with the masses.

Jesus' message was about behaving in the right way towards God and those around us. It was about going out to the masses with the good news that God loved them and wanted to know them. It was inclusive, not exclusive. It was a street faith. It was reaching out His hands to the "unclean" and touching their point of need. And that's where I need to be sharing this incredible message. On the street, with the people that don't yet know Jesus. Shouting the message by lifestyle, not by argument. Clever people can shoot down my arguments, but nobody can shoot down what I am.

A street faith. One that works in the market place. The literal one, not the symbolic one. That's the challenge for all ages. Let my life do the talking and be prepared to speak when folks want to know what the secret is. Expecting Father to bring me those God-meetings when I'm out and about, so that I can back up what God is already doing in the lives of people out there. Being involved with what Father is doing.

After the initial times spent in the synagogues, Jesus' work was in the street church, where the people were. Guess where you and I need to be!

Mac is in what people call the third age of life. He's planted churches, been an evangelist, been involved in church leadership at different levels for 40 years. He still has a sense of destiny for the next move of God, writes worship songs, preaches and teaches and senses the raising up of the end time army. Above all he is an encourager. For information, check out his website.

Hope and Original Sin

Tue, 25 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

The effects of sin are everywhere. I don't mean the personal sin that we usually think of, where person X does something wrong. I mean the effects of original sin, that event caused by Adam that was so catastrophic that it brought death and disease into the world, and was so total that even creation groans in expectation for the day that all things will be made new. As a result, cancer ravages bodies and husbands beat their wives, and the general state of things in the world is in great dishevelment.

I shudder when I see someone confined to a wheelchair whose disappointment with God for letting their accident happen is graven on their face. When I see the now-common occurrence of someone begging for their daily bread because the job market dried up, it's all I can do to keep from looking away. It's not because I am unmoved by a hardened heart that I react this way, but because it moves me so deeply.

In those moments I feel the weight of sin so heavily upon my soul, knowing that there are billions who are suffering in the same way, that many times it shakes my faith and makes me call out to God for their deliverance or my annihilation. The "problem of evil" -- as the philosophers call it -- is a real problem for my trust in God.

I don't say this lightly. Nietzsche said that if you stared into the abyss long enough, eventually it will stare back at you. I have felt the siren call of atheism as a litany of disasters wreck a world that is battered and swooning, looking for a Deliverer who, it sometimes seems, prefers to inflict pain on people who, by all accounts, are bound in sin. I usually don't have much sympathy for the intellectual atheist, but the emotional atheists pull at my soul and threaten to tear the life out of me. I know that this is heresy, but it screams in my mind so powerfully at times that I am worn smooth.

I can feel the calls of the people of God through the ages as it echoes in my bones and stifles my hope. How long indeed, O God, must the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer? It seems at times that the accusations Elijah hurled at the prophets of Baal could be turned around. Was God sitting on the pot the day that the tsunami hit? Has he forgotten the sex slaves in Thailand and the AIDS orphans in Africa? How can I offer the hope of the good news that God loves a boy whose family was shot to death in front of his eyes by the Lord's Resistance Army?

The only answer I have been able to come up with is Jesus. I can't answer why an all-powerful God doesn't use His power to completely eradicate all of the suffering in the world. I can point the suffering toward the God-Man who did not consider His position of eminence something to be held on to, but took on the likeness of a servant and died as the Paschal lamb. I can show them His tears over the unrepentant, his anger at the abuse of His Father's house, and the unflinching love he showed toward his enemies.

I know that I must always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is within me. This hope waxes and wanes, but my God is faithful not to quench the smoking flax. I cannot understand how a God so full of gracious love can be so perfectly mingled with a judge so full of righteous indignation. He sits enthroned upon the heavens as the great and awe-ful Mystery that defies both reason and emotion, but who promises to work all things to his glory. Ultimately I must cover my mouth with Job at the rebuke of the God I had only heard of with my ears. I cannot see how God will redeem all things, but I don't need to know everything. He created the world once; He can create it again.

Tom is a philosophy student at FGCU in Fort Myers, FL. He hopes one day to be a member of GI Joe, but will probably end up in District 9. His life is ironic that way.

What It Really Means to Repent

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Our family used to go to the beach a lot. We used to spend time on the old rickety wooden piers that seemed to tell stories of those who have walked before. It was beautiful scenery with birds flying through the air like dancers on a stage. One of my favorite things about being on the pier was begging my dad for a few quarters to put in the silver viewfinder that awaited for my arrival. It was like a poor man's Disneyland. I stepped and and slowly peered through the two eye-holes and the world was that much bigger and that much smaller all at the same time. It was like looking at the world for the first time again and again.

Jesus is our viewfinder. Even before this Rabbi stepped on to the scene, his family was paving the way for his arrival. His cousin John was by this famous river talking to anyone about this new guy who was going to usher in this other kind of Kingdom. Different than the ones' they were used to. He would use words that they knew to get them ready for this incoming Savior.' John, in the deepest and loudest voice he could muster would shout: "Repent for the Kingdom of God is near!"

Powerful stuff. Repent. Kingdom. God. All of these in the same sentence? It was unheard of.

Let's unpack what that word means - "repent." Metanoia is the word used in Greek. It has nothing to do with sin. When the word is properly placed in its context, it literally means "Think beyond what you know" or maybe even "reform your mind." Somewhere along the way it was adopted by those who wanted it to mean something else other than what was intended. In fact, if you search the scriptures there is not one verse that places repent and sin next to each other; the closest verse we come to is Acts 2:38 where it says,

"Peter answered them, All of you must turn to God and change the way you think and act, and each of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins will be forgiven. Then you will receive the Holy Spirit as a gift."

Peter is saying that they have to become less ignorant and more aware. It's even more than that. He's saying "You have to be more open to the possibility that you may not be living the best life that was meant for you and that you might want to rethink your direction."

Then he goes on to couple baptism with the forgiveness of sins. In first century Palestine, much like today, we use baptism as a symbol or metaphor to signify our "dying of the old man" as I have heard so many times before. Peter is doing that with his words here. He is using baptism as metaphor - not creating a theology whereby you can only be forgiven when you get dunked. That would be exclusivist and against the very heart of Jesus' message. When Jesus and John talk about baptism in reference to the Kingdom of God, it is the same word we use for "inside." The Kingdom of God is within. It is near. It is around. It is among us.

Maybe Jesus' invitation to repent isn't so much about what we have done wrong, but more of a challenge to continually be in the practice of revisiting, deconstructing and remolding our paradigms. To have us reform our minds on how we treat each other and truth and many other things He talks about in Scripture. When Jesus invites Nicodemus to be born again, it isn't a doctrine of salvation He is talking about. It is an invitation for Nic to lose it all, to give it up, to let go of everything he has known and become like a child again.

That is what it means to repent.

Oh, There You Are, God

Mon, 3 Aug 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Everyone begins life in awareness of God. As time passes, we "grow up" and lose this awareness. As my favorite band Sleeping At Last poetically puts it:

"When the world welcomes us in, we're closer to heaven then we'll ever know. They say this place has changed, but strip away all of the technology, and we'll see that we all are hunters, hunting for something that will make us okay." ("Needle and Thread")

As kids, we often understand intrinsically that God is here, right next to us, right in us. Then, "reality" hits. People betray us. We lose our sense of trust. We get beaten up physically on the playground, emotionally by teachers or parents or kids, and spiritually in church. The basic unifying message is that "you are not enough."

And so we hunt. We hunt through any means possible: addiction to careers, drugs, church, sex, religious acts. All the things the protagonist in the missions trip drama dances around, before being set free by the 15 year old reluctantly playing Jesus. If we are honest we will admit, "finding God" and "accepting Jesus" in a typical "conversion" experience doesn't make us stop hunting. In fact, the hunting it self can become an addiction.

We repent, we believe, we receive, we are changed. Now, we are told, we must do, we must work it out. We must seek God more, find God deeper. Get closer to God. Does this mean, God only gave us part of Him self when "he came into our hearts?" We're taught this sunday school rhetoric, but I am afraid we don't really stop to think. We sing "All I need is you" and in our hearts, we are hunting. "I need you God, so come to me, come and be my everything."

It's like a kid who learns for the first time in science class that without your heart beating, you will die. In panic, he asks his teacher where he can get a heart. The teacher takes the little boys hand and places it on his own chest.

If we are "saved," God is already in us. What more can God give us then Himself?

Let's say the little boy doesn't get it. He doesn't understand that the "thump thump" he is feeling in his chest can possibly be the same weird bloody organ he is being showed a picture of in class. He doesn't connect the two. So what does he do? He lives in worry and fear. He drops out of elementary school and becomes a hunter, searching for his heart.

It's a ridiculous analogy, obviously, but it seems to me like the state of so much of the church.

We are always looking for what we already have.

I spent most of my life hunting for something that would make me feel better about myself. Being a Christian felt like I was in a club where you were morally superior, and had certain duties and obligations like praying for people, and attending church. When it was all over, I was one of the few lucky ones that wouldn't get burned to a crisp. But I didn't feel very lucky. I tried to convince myself I was blessed and a child of God, but deep down I didn't really believe it. I believed that nagging voice, "You are not enough. You are not smart enough, or pretty enough. You are strange. No one will ever love you."

When I was seventeen, I experienced God's love in a way that left me shaking and haunted, knowing that He was real and that I needed to find Him. So I gave up ideas about college and being in a relationship, and moved to the middle of nowhere east Texas. I dived head first into a program intended to help people to find God. Essentially, I was told in order to really find Him, I needed to do more. I needed to give up everything, especially any kind of entertainment or reading that wasn't deemed "spiritual". I was fed the importance of having godly character, being physically fit, professional, a leader, someone that stood above everyone else, a "world changer." Then I was given a list of ways to become this. Often these step by step formulas to be a super christian were interlaced with a spoon full of grace, which I swallowed quickly, starving, but was always left unsatisfied. Ultimately, God in his grace sought me out and changed me. I realized over time all I really need to do is be with Jesus, let him love me, and that everything else will fall into place. This was an introduction to grace, but the tricky thing is that legalism mixed with a bit of grace, is still legalism.

Adding sugar to poison might make it sweet, but it is still poison.

My hunger for God was insatiable. While others went off to town to go to Starbucks and the movies, (and of course, I judged them for it) I sat on the hill behind my dorm and looked for God. One night, the sky was clear and the stars were close. The Texas night was warm and peaceful, but inside, I felt like a starving animal. I rocked back and forth on the paved path, not caring about the ants that crawled up to take a bite out of me, for I was waiting for a spiritual experience! I cried and moaned. "God come! If you don't come, I will die." A fierce determination, which is rare in my generally lazy nature, set in.

"God, I am not going inside until you show up! I don't care how long it takes! I don't care if I am here all night!"

I "pressed in" to something invisible, hoping deep down God would see my dedication and commitment and give me the fireworks show I was really asking for. I was so intense, I could have sweated blood. I stared at the dark woods before me, that the path led to, imagining a bright lighted man walking out, giving me a sign, telling me He loved me. I stared at the spot so hard, I almost convinced myself something was there. God was real, I knew that. He loved me, so why isn't he giving me what I want? I was determined, I was dedicated. I had followed the rules. I was "setting the standard." I had done what was asked of me, and all I wanted was to see the being I had given everything too, was that too much to ask? Minutes or hours passed and I began to feel defeated. I felt abandoned and rejected. I felt cheated. So I gave up. I picked myself of the ant covered side walk, and walked, head down, back to the dorm.

In the movie Hook Robin Williams finds himself in never never land, surrounded by the Lost boys which he once led. He has gone from the never-growing up boy hero who can fly, to a stuffy business man who is obsessed with climbing the corporate ladder and doesn't know how to relate to his kids. In my favorite scene in the movies, Williams is face to face with the new leader, Rufio. He is convinced he is a fraud, and so are most of the rest of the boys, and Peter himself. The only one who believes in Him is Tinkerbell. In the midst of deciding whether to give him a chance, or kill him, one of the lost boys walks up to Peter. He takes off his glasses and begins feeling his face, kneading it like clay. As his small hands make his way around his eyes, he pushes back his wrinkles into a smile, and he finds what he is looking for.

"Oh, there you are, Peter!"

In that moment, Peter realizes his true identity - there is a hero inside of him, capable of leading, fighting, flying, and ultimately winning the hearts of his children back and saving the day.

That night in the field, I was desperate because I didn't know who I was. But more tragic, I didn't realize who God was in me. Even though I said I believed he dwelt within me, I really believed He was somewhere "out there." And so, I believed happiness, peace, purpose, love, all the things I needed- were somehow out there. In my next accomplishment. In tomorrow. Just around the river bend. I thought what countless human beings have thought throughout the span of time, "If I just see God, it will be enough. If I just had one touch from Him... If I just had some sort of sign."

When I was thoroughly spent in the field, I gave up, and went inside, feeling like a failure, feeling confused. I walked into my dorm room, and something caught my eye. It was my reflection in the mirror. I stopped for a moment, as if trying to recognize someone I knew that I knew, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I looked beyond my face, red and splotchy from crying, past my tear stained eyes, and into them. I stood in silence, barely breathing, looking myself in the eyes. It was then, I heard a gentle voice within me.

"Here I am."

Brooke lives in the middle of nowhere in east Texas, trying to live, understand, and write about Grace. She makes great pasta salad. Check out her blog.

Not WWJD, But What is Jesus Doing?

Tue, 21 Jul 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I sat in my office, listening to another story of trouble and difficulty. This couple sitting with me was between work, needing help, struggling financially. I was thinking, "What would Jesus do?" Yes, the WWJD thought is clich, but it seemed appropriate. But then is dawned on me, maybe it really wasn't all that appropriate. What really mattered was not what Jesus would have done, but what Jesus was doing, right there in that moment.

As we walk with Jesus, journeying with him in our day-to-days, he involves us in what he is doing. His desire for us, as his followers and friends, is that we participate in his ongoing life and ministry. He is not some long-dead though-not-forgotten hero of years gone by; he is the living Lord of life and he is still present and active in the world. Through his Word (the Scriptures) and through his Spirit's presence in the lives of those who follow him, he continues to extend his influence, his care, his love, his presence.

Sometimes, when we feel his tug or grasp from his Word something he might want us to do, we can find ourselves pulling back, resisting. We don't always, readily, give into his invitation to participate and join him in what he is doing. It's not that we plan on being obstinate, we just find rising in our own heart a reluctance. It will be crucial to understand why that push back comes, so that we can find better ways to more readily give in to Jesus.

As we watch the close circle of disciples on their journey with Jesus as recorded in the Gospels, we gain insight about how and why this disciple-life is to be lived. To see them struggle helps us to realize that our struggles are not unique; to realize that Jesus didn't give up on them leads to confidence that he won't give up on us.

In Mark 6, these twelve disciples have just returned from being sent out by Jesus; they went out as extensions of his own ministry. They taught, they proclaimed the kingdom; some people were healed, others delivered from demonic oppression. They were partnering with Jesus in his work. And, as they gathered back with him, they ended up on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, surrounded by a great crowd.

Jesus taught the crowd; the crowd stayed and listened through the long day. And everyone was getting hungry. So the disciples suggested that the crowd be sent away to get food and fend for themselves. But Jesus turned to the twelve and said, "You give them something to eat" (Mark 6:37).

And they balked; the twelve resisted. They argued back. "You want us to somehow come up with a year's wages and find a place to purchase enough bread to feed this crowd here in this desolate place?" And the way Mark records it for us, you have to read their response with more than just a tinge of sarcasm. It's a "You've got to be kidding!" kind of reply.

But Jesus wasn't kidding. He really knew what he was doing. And he really wanted them to give food to the multitude. What they stumbled over was the "How?" They heard him clearly say what he wanted them to do. But they then looked at their resources and they looked to their own thoughts for a strategy and then concluded: "We can't possibly do that!" So, they pushed back.

What is so wonderful and amazing in the account (which, yes, you should read!) is that it ended up happening just as Jesus had said. The disciples gave the crowd something to eat.

No, they didn't do it on their own; but then he hadn't said they would. No, they didn't do it the way they thought; but then he wasn't inviting them to figure it out. No, they hadn't grasped how he was planning on stepping in and stepping up to make sure his will was carried out; but then they hadn't asked him how he wanted them to do it, they only pushed back, resisted, refused. But it did happen, just as he said. They gave the crowd something to eat.

As wonderful as the miracle was, as delightful as it must have been to have that huge crowd fed, as marvelous the memory of that moment would have been in the minds of those who shared that special picnic lunch, what is sweeter is that Jesus involved a few obstinate and reluctant disciples in what he was doing. He enfolded them in his plans and purposes in spite of how they, initially, resisted. And it happened, just as he said.

We need to see that. Because when we hear Jesus tell us things-through his Word, by his Spirit-we often feel that initial push back. We look at our resources and we look to our own thoughts for a strategy and then conclude: "We can't possibly do that!" So, we push back.

And, still, he continues to involve us; not abandoning us to our objections to his way of doing things. And, still, he presses on to his end; not giving in to our reluctance but winning us over, involving us in his gracious and great plans.

I'm not sure what Jesus is doing with that couple that just left my office, but I don't want to push back. I really want to get involved in what He is doing. After all, what he wants to do will happen, just as he said. I just don't want to miss it.

Brian is on a life long adventure into an ever-expanding experience of joy in being a follower of Jesus. Reflections on this adventure can be found at his blog, Summathetes.

Jesus' Timing: Wasted vs. Spent

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 00:00:00 GMT

When?

That's often what I want to know. I ask Jesus when he will do something, how long will it take him to attend to some need, when he will finally get around to what I think is so important. Feeling the magnitude of my own needs and trying to find a way to lean into him and his grace, I tend to prod him: "When are you going to do something about this?"

I want to find a way to live in the midst of life not quite playing out according to my day-timer. I can tell myself that "He knows best;" but that doesn't always help. I need to see more than that. And, the Gospels help me. I think about Mark 5.

Mark tells us of how Jesus was on his way to keep a little girl from dying (Mark 5:21-43); pressing need, concerned father, compassionate Jesus. All the makings of a great rescue, a timely meeting of a need. But then an interruption comes.

A woman with a bleeding problem worked her way through the crowd surrounding Jesus as he was on his way to the home where the little girl was. The woman longed for healing; she knew she might find relief in Jesus. She reached out, touching him through the crowd, looking to him for her need. And she was healed. In that moment, immediately, she was healed. And she knew it. And Jesus knew it. And then the really strange thing happened. Jesus stopped.

Although Jesus knew she was healed and the woman knew she was healed, although Jesus was on his way to prevent something terrible from happening to a little girl, Jesus stopped. He asked for the woman to come forward. And she meekly made her way back through the crowd. And Mark tells us that she "told him the whole truth" about twelve years of suffering, many futile medical treatments, spending all she had in looking for a cure; that report must have taken minutes spilling over into more and more time. Time spent hearing a story while a little girl was dying.

And I struggle with that. "Jesus, why are you dawdling here? You know this woman is healed! She knows she is healed. And there is a little girl on the edge of death. Why are you wasting time with this?"

And then I see it. Jesus is not wasting time. He is spending time. He is in charge of his days and hours and minutes and is freely giving it as he sees fit. His time with the woman is well spent; although she needed physical healing, she also needed the attention and compassion that could only be tasted in his listening to her tell her whole saga. He is doing more than healing her physical need, he is caring for her as a person.

Even though when he arrives at the home of the little girl she has already died, he has not squandered time. He is in charge of his days and hours and minutes and is investing his time as he sees fit. And even though those at the home think Jesus has arrived too late, he hasn't. He takes the little girl by the hand and raises her up. He is doing all that they had hoped for and more.

In this crowded, busy, chaotic, mix of needs and longings, requests and demands, tears and terror, Jesus is not rushed nor hurried, neither too late or inattentive. He does what he does in just the right time to do what he deems best. And the needs are met, in unexpected ways and broader and deeper than anticipated. And he accomplishes all that he intends to, without capitulating to the crushing burden of the schedules others might have for him.

I want to taste that in my own life. In my crowded, busy, chaotic life, filled with a mix of needs and longings, requests and demands, tears and terrors, I want to put my hand in Jesus' knowing that he will do what he deems best in just the right time. Neither taking too much time on this nor overlooking that because he ran out of time.

I watch him with the woman who reached out to him. I listen as he talks with the man whose daughter is dying. I see him as he takes the hand of the little girl and welcomes her back to life. And then I realize--his timing is impeccable.

And I can stop and catch my breath, resting in the rhythm that he longs to bring into my days.

Brian is on a life long adventure into an ever-expanding experience of joy in being a follower of Jesus. Reflections on this adventure can be found at his blog, Summathetes.

What Are You Willing to Lose?

Mon, 6 Jul 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Some of the religious people in Jesus' day didn't take to him very well; they were troubled by what he said and did. Not that they weren't captivated by his miracles and the way he cared for people; they often appreciated his care and stood amazed at the power with which his ministered. But they didn't like the way he upset the way they thought life should go. They didn't like that he didn't see things the way they did.

For example, the pietists of the day (commonly referred to in the Gospels as the "Pharisees") wanted to live holy. They abstained from contamination in thought and practice through contact with those who didn't want to live holy, and sought to order their living by their understanding of the Scriptures handed down through Moses and the prophets. Their problem with Jesus? He didn't seem to come to the same conclusions as they did about what holy living looked like. He didn't seem to be concerned with becoming contaminated by relating to those who were not yet living holy lives, and he appeared to read the Scriptures through a different lens than they did. Jesus didn't fit into their mold (In fact, if truth be told, Jesus doesn't fit into anyone's mold!).

One time, they confronted him about the practice of fasting. Mark records the exchange in the second chapter of his Gospel. Noting that the Hebrew Scriptures did call for fasting from time to time, the Pharisees thought that "more is better!" So, they fasted on a weekly basis, thinking that such a practice must have some value in their pursuit of holy living. But, apparently Jesus didn't think so; neither he nor his disciples adopted the practice of weekly fasts. And that troubled the Pharisees. So they asked about it.

Jesus offers an answer by way of an illustration; he tells a couple of parables. Both simple; both with a simple point to be made.

No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; otherwise the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear results. No one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins as well; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins. (Mark 2:21-22)

Patches? What is Jesus referring to? Well, before the days of "pre-shrunk" or "no shrink" fabrics, garments would shrink in the washing and drying process. So, if you had a tear in an old garment, you would not use new cloth to mend it; if you did, the next washing would result in an ineffective patch and a more badly damaged garment.

Wineskins? Have you ever even seen a wineskin? In Jesus' day, unfermented juice was placed in a sealed skin of an animal. The skin would stretch as the juice fermented, but the new skin would flex enough to not split as the gases of the fermentation caused the wineskin to expand. But no one who knew the process would have used an old wineskin for the fermentation of fresh wine; if you did, the skin would be ruined and all the wine would be lost.

Jesus' point is simply and powerfully made. The trouble the Pharisees were having is that they were trying to fit Jesus' way of viewing life and doing life into their old way of seeing. It didn't fit. And right there, understanding that, there comes a subtle warning.

What are you willing to lose?

The parables Jesus told here drive home that idea. If the Pharisees try to make Jesus "fit" with their way of seeing and doing life, they will not only miss what Jesus is offering them, but they will suffer loss. Jesus' fresh way of doing life is so counter-intuitive to their way of thinking, that trying to force him to fit won't hurt him; but it will result in ruining their way of thinking, their way of doing life.

Seeing as I don't personally identify myself as a card-carrying Pharisee, it would be relatively easy to dismiss the subtle warning Jesus offers here. But, a little honest reflection drives me to the realization that such a step would be unwise. I may not think like the Pharisees of old, but I do have ways of thinking about how life should go, what it means to maintain my holy status, and what makes life "work." And seeing as these views our mine, derived from my reading of life and my assessment of what is to be valued, these views just might not be all that much like those of Jesus.

So, he will come and bring his understanding of life. He will speak-through his Word and through my journey in life with him-about how he sees things, what he values, how he intends to approach life, what he desires for his followers to do. And some of what he says (maybe even much or most of what he says) will be at odds with the way I think life ought to be pursued. And then I will be faced with a question: What am I willing to lose?

If I try and force Jesus into my way of life-rather than embracing his way of life-I could well suffer a tear in my soul, a loss in my life, a ruining of my plans. It just won't work.

So, maybe it really would make sense to embrace, without reservation or correction or adjustment, Jesus' way of life. And in doing that, nothing of real value will be lost . . . and life will be gained.

Brian is on a life long adventure into an ever-expanding experience of joy in being a follower of Jesus. Reflections on this adventure can be found at his blog, Summathetes.

There's Probably No God

Mon, 29 Jun 2009 00:00:00 GMT

As a team, we went to Cologne University, Germany and surveyed over 150 students. We asked them questions like:

"Who or what do you think God is?"
"If you could ask God one question what would you ask?"
"What do you think happens when you die?"

Our intention was to get an idea where European university students are at in their view of God, share the Gospel, and develop long-term relationships with those interested.

What we found was that 45.5% of those surveyed believe God is some type of Energy Force - but not a person, 37% don't believe God exists, 10.5% believe God to be a supreme being or God other than a Christian God (Allah), and 7% believe in a Christian God.

The overall feeling that I got from everyone was that they really didn't care and that it doesn't really matter - "believe what you want and I will believe what I want." 40% believe that there is no life after death, 28% believe in reincarnation, 17% are not sure, and 15% believe in some sort of heaven or hell.

Almost all students that I talked with were very friendly, willing to take the survey, and excited to hear about my world travels. But most weren't interested in discussing things of God or that have eternal value. In my opinion, it was sad to see a group of peers so highly educated but uninterested in even searching for everlasting truth.

After staying here for a month and talking with my contacts that have started a number of churches and lived in Germany for 18 years, I have gained a deeper understanding of how hard the "soil" is here. According to my contact, Europe is now considered one of the most un-reached areas of the world. France even has the highest turnover rate of missionaries.

But what is even more frightening in Europe is a new movement to "evangelize" atheism. A campaign in the U.K. raised almost $250,000 to plaster the phrase "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." on public buses and in other areas. It seems that the only higher good has become to "enjoy your life", which, interestingly, is exactly what God wants for us.

But how can we enjoy life if we don't understand that we all have been uniquely created for a unique purpose by a God that desperately loves us, even to the point of dying on a cross?

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." -Eph 6:12

Europe is in need of an awakening, and I believe it is coming, but it is starting through our prayers. Please pray with me against the evil spiritual forces that have tightly wrapped around the throat of Europe.

Neil is a missionary on an 11-month trip around the world called the World Race.

The Me-First Gospel: Individualism and Christianity

Mon, 1 Jun 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Is Jesus really just concerned with our receiving him into our hearts? Have evangelicals over-emphasized individual "decisions for Christ" and under-emphasized the redemptive elements of the Gospel in regards to social and cultural transformation? Is our gospel a "Me-first" Gospel?

A couple of disclaimers:

1. I have learned that there are some "hills to die on", and then there are non-essentials that distract from gospel-centered living.

2. Shooting each other, ministries, people, blogs, etc, are not ministry; they are soap boxes and unbiblical ways of handling sensitive topics, and it takes work to walk out. Galatians 6:1-5 should be a guiding text, and it is essential that we know how to deal with those who differ from us.

Is Jesus really concerned with our receiving Him into our hearts?
Romans 10:3-15 is clear in that there is clearly a heart element to salvation, but the way we describe "heart" today and the way the Bible describes "heart" are two very different things. It all rides on biblical vocabulary. Further, a solid soteriology based upon monergism is essential in placing the effectual call to salvation in its most God-glorifying context.

I think the reason for this question in evangelical circles is because of the frustration and lack of patience of many shepherds (that is, anyone who is caring for another believer) and the tension and cost of discipleship. Investing in relationships, participating in God's plan of those he is drawing to himself, is not on our timetable. We are a "microwave" society, and we desire immediate and empirical evidence of truth. I am not convinced that the intention to see the fruits is a bad thing, but the methods we use at times are.

Have evangelicals (this needs to be defined, for the sake of this article see this balanced view) over-emphasized individual "decisions for Christ" and under-emphasized the redemptive elements of the Gospel in regards to social and cultural transformation?

First, the topic of decisional regeneration has been around since Charles Finney. We get that. I think that evangelicals spend too much time "whacking-that-mole" versus doing something about it in their own ministries. It is much easier to spend resources, time, and blogs on this non-essential, versus the Great Commission (authority, going, making, baptizing, teaching). What I think we forget is that Jesus loved him too, and Finney did not wake up one day and say, "You, know, I think I will water down the gospel for the sake of growing a church." Most evangelicals are not thinking this, either, and we must discern the goal here: seeing God glorified with a compassion for those far from God (hopefully, being sober-minded about depravity, of course) versus growing a church.

Second, the current missional movement of the church is trying to change this, not with a new teaching but by going back to the basics of discipleship and what it means to be a Christ-follower where God has placed you. The error, I see, in the pendulum swinging the other way (focusing on social and cultural transformation) is that it, too, can be an error on the side of moralism, which is not the gospel either.

What I am advocating is a sobriety of our culture. God is not unaware or surprised by the culture, and we should not be, either. Further, because we have a divine perspective, there is an element of stewardship that is all of our responsibility to walk by faith, repent, and walk in obedience.

Finally, it is not the responsibility of the "evangelicals" to bring about a change; it is an individual investing in another individual. I have heard it said that it is one beggar showing another beggar where to find bread. What that looks like is what we try to emphasize at my church Oasis. We seek to build gospel-centered communities to reach people for Christ Jesus and invest in messy relationships.

Until we individually understand God's holiness in light of our sinfulness, the Cross, and the Resurrection, we will continue to see the planks in each other's eyes, ministries, books, blogs, social justice, moralism, soap-boxes, etc. We need to continue working on Philippians 2 and Colossians 1 being a reality in our lives.

When we have understood that (I confess that I only catch brief glimpses of this), there will always be places to work and change. Thankfully, I am sure of this, "that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6).

There is no "Me-first" gospel; it is a Jesus-first gospel.

Derek is a bumbling church planter in Goose Creek, SC who is humbled that he had/has an opportunity to attain an M.Div (Pastoral Counseling) and maintain his NANC (Biblical Counseling) certification.

Blue-Jeaned Jesus: Our Savior's New PR Campaign

Fri, 15 May 2009 00:00:00 GMT

I saw this article in Telegraph the other day:

Father David Buckley unveiled the 35,000 seven-foot high bronze statue at the Our Lady Immaculate and St Philip Neri Catholic church in Uckfield.

Cornish's sculpture was funded by money left by Winifred Gregory, 87, a member of the congregation who passed away last year.

Christ is wearing jeans and a shirt billowing in the wind while his hair and beard are neatly and fashionably trimmed.

Father Buckley said: "You are always looking for new ways to enrich people in the experience of Christianity and it is good people can be open-minded to appreciate it.

"On the continent you often encounter modern representations of Jesus but it is not so common over here. We wanted a figure of Christ not in suffering but dynamic and welcoming.

"We felt this design summed up the spirit and activity of Christ perfectly and I think it speaks for itself.

This reminds me of when I studied abroad in Spain one semester in college. My friends and I were traveling via train and had a 12-hour layover in Barcelona. We bought some bread and cheese and hung out in the square for the afternoon. There, our quiet respite was disrupted by a loud, obnoxious evangelist and his drama team who were telling the crowd that they were going to burn in hell if they didn't receive Christ right then and there. I was young, naive, and pretty jaded, but even now I look back to that event and believe, as I did then, that there has to be a better way.

It's certainly clear that the church is in need of some new publicity in places like Western Europe where traditional Christianity is all but dead, but is a Jesus makeover the way to go? Does slapping some denim on him with a button fly do the trick?

According to Matthew Paul Turner, former CCM editor and Christian culture provocateur, Jesus needs new PR (check out his blog, if you don't believe me, or read his latest tongue-in-cheek book Churched).

If you ask Shane Hipps, however, the medium is the message, and Christians need to think twice before hopping onto the technological bandwagon (and dragging the Gospel with them).

What do you think? Can the image of Jesus be updated and made a little bit more "relevant" or hip without losing the sacredness of it?

Is Jesus really my homeboy?

Jeff graduated from Illinois College, a small liberal arts school, with a degree in Spanish and Religion. He lives in Nashville, TN with his wife Ashley. He works for Adventures in Missions, edits this silly little magazine, and loves to do new things. Check out his blog: Pilgrimage of the Heart.

Jesus: Revolutionary of Revolutionaries

Wed, 13 May 2009 00:00:00 GMT

A while back there was an article here asking if Jesus was a revolutionary. The answer is a resounding, "Yes!" Jesus turned the cultural, religious, and political world upside down. You bet he was a revolutionary! According to the article the dictionary definition of revolutionary is "constituting or bringing about a major or fundamental change." I can't think of any more major or fundamental change than what Jesus began.

At the end of the article the author seems to have come to the conclusion that we should not call Jesus a revolutionary because "we need to be cautious of calling Jesus something He never called Himself." Interestingly, we call Jesus things he never called himself all the time. He never called himself the second person of the Trinity. He never called himself our "best friend" or our "lover." He never called himself Lord of Lords, King of Kings or Prince of Peace. He never called himself the suffering servant. He never even called himself the titles the author of the article gave him: Lord or Savior.

Interestingly, the author of the article quotes from Luke 4 where Jesus says his mission is to liberate the oppressed and bring about a societal redistribution of wealth (in his reference to the year of Jubilee). That sounds like revolutionary language to me. The author also sends us to read a piece from Frank Viola which reads:

"Someone once said that 'a rebel attempts to change the past; a revolutionary attempts to change the future.' Jesus Christ brought drastic change to the world. Change to humanity's view of God. Change to God's view of humankind. Change to men's view of women. Our Lord came to bring radical change to the old order of things, replacing it with a new order. He came to bring forth a new covenant-a new kingdom-a new birth-a new race-a new species-a new culture-and a new civilization."

Viola is right. Jesus subverted everything. He touched lepers. He talked to women during the daytime. He told the first they were really last, and the last they were really first. He ate with social outcasts, and thus declared them equal. He inaugurated the reign of God's kingdom. He disrupted business activities at the temple (which nearly all scholars agree is what got him killed). When he rode into Jerusalem on a donkey he mocked the entrance of Caesars and military generals. When he said, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's," he wasn't maintaining the status quo but subverting it. He argued that the image of Caesar gives Caesar the right to coins, and implicitly argued that the image of God in all gives God the right to everyone's entire being. Caesar can have the money. God wants the body, mind, soul and heart. Jesus was killed as a political criminal! How much more revolutionary can you get?

Jesus was without a doubt a revolutionary, but he wasn't just a revolutionary. He was a revolutionary of revolutionaries. He didn't just turn the entire social, religious and political order on its head. He did it in a way different from every other attempt before him. Maybe that is why we are hesitant to give Jesus the title "revolutionary." When we think of revolutionaries we think of armed revolt, funny hats, and the color red. Jesus, however, led a nonviolent revolution marked by service. His revolution doesn't come by a sword, gun or bombs, but by a towel and turning the other cheek. See, Jesus was a revolutionary, but he wasn't only a revolutionary of society. He even began a revolution of revolution. He had Zealots among his disciples. These were revolutionaries "par excellence." They wielded swords and daggers and sought to overthrow Roman rule. Jesus liked their zeal, and to some extent their goal, but taught them new methods and a broader goal that subverted Rome but also included reconciliation with Romans.

Jesus wasn't just a revolutionary. He was the ultimate revolutionary. And now his call, "Follow me," seems a whole lot more radical.

If you liked this article, check out: The Missionary Heart of Jesus

Jimmy is a graduate of Pepperdine University and Claremont School of Theology where he has studied religion and ethics. He will be attending Emory University in the Fall to pursue a Ph.D. in Christian Ethics, and will be spending the summer with his beautiful wife Desiree serving the least of these in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. He blogs at Seeking First the Kingdom.

'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus?

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 00:00:00 GMT

There is a popular hymn that goes like this:

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him

How I've proved him o'er and o'er

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus

O for grace to trust him more...

I sometimes catch myself humming or singing that hymn without even realizing it, and I'm not even that into hymns. However, the song strikes me with a sense of tremendous honesty and longing.

The hymn-writer (Louisa Stead) seems to find herself in the place that I believe many of us are in - which is to say, a place of brokenness. She confesses that she needs to trust in Jesus and that only by grace is such reckless trust possible. It's interesting, because that's coupled with lines like "'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus" or "I'm so glad I learned to trust Thee," but that's what I love about it. That's what makes it so honest.

On one hand, we've learned to trust in Jesus, which is to say that we've learned to confess our sins, receive forgiveness, and become redeemed children of God. And yet, there's always tomorrow...

Every day, I find myself asking for the grace to trust Christ just a little bit more. Sometimes, it's a bit tough, when you consider the circumstances. With terrorism and plummeting economies, with secularism and legalism, with technological gizmos and all kinds of other distractions, trusting in Jesus may be one of the most difficult callings of a Christ-follower.

And yet, we're given very little room in the Gospels to not trust in Jesus.

Christ asks a man who's father has died to let his body rot and follow him.

He tells some fishermen to leave their livelihood and fish for men (all the while not explaining how sound of a business model that may be).

He commands a rich, young ruler to scorn his wealth and live more simply.

None of these sound like very trustworthy propositions, if you ask me.

I know a couple who both recently were diagnosed with malignant cancer. Most likely, they both will die very soon. At times, they are so weak that families in the neighborhood have to bring them food to eat for dinner. And yet, when you visit them, they are so full of joy, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they don't have much money and their health is quickly slipping away. They've learned to trust in Jesus.

There are some people in my church who are really struggling. Some are struggling with spouses who have rejected God and distanced themselves from the family. Others have been laid-off or fired for no good reason and can't forgive those who have wronged them. And even others are quite comfortable and struggle with truly believing that God has taken care of them. At different times, I've probably fit into all those categories. Currently, I think that I'm like the hymn writer who is longing for grace so that I may trust him more.

Last week, I worked with a group of young adults on a mission trip, and I saw their incredible trust in Jesus accomplish amazing things for the kingdom of God. I saw Latin American families demonstrate great trust by letting us into their homes and even into their personal lives, because they believed God had brought us to the country of Costa Rica. And I even saw myself trusting a little more in Jesus than I would have if I were at home on the couch.

Brennan Manning, in his book Ruthless Trust, relates the story of a man visiting Mother Teresa and asking her to pray for his clarity. She says that she cannot do that: "Clarity is the last thing you're clinging to and must let go of." He remarks that she has always seemed to have great clarity in her life, to which she laughs and replies, "I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust."

I think that there are times when we pray for clarity and we should really be praying for trust. That's not to say that God doesn't speak to us at times, or that we should desire to get direction from him; however, I do believe that at the end of the day, he's asking us to follow him, even if it means going through incredibly tough and painful situations.

It really is sweet to trust in him, and I hope that we can all, by grace, learn to do so a little more.

Jeff graduated from Illinois College, a small liberal arts school, with a degree in Spanish and Religion. He lives in Nashville, TN with his wife Ashley. He works for Adventures in Missions, edits this silly little magazine, and loves to do new things. Check out his blog: Pilgrimage of the Heart.

Why I Don't Want to Be a Christian Anymore

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 00:00:00 GMT

The other day at my university, there was a hellfire and brimstone preacher standing outside the student center, yelling at those passing by. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, and some men around him were holding signs condemning people from certain walks of life. The man was yelling about how God hates homosexuals, fornicators, etc. These people are the ones who often make me ashamed to wear the Christian name.

I decided to stop and listen to what the man had to say. It is these people who tend to give nonbelievers a bad taste in their mouth when it comes to Christianity, but I thought I would give this one a shot and see what people thought. He was roped off in a little box - I guess for protection if it got too rowdy.

After about thirty seconds of listening to this man, I wondered if we were reading the same Bible. I asked him, and sure enough, he was using the New King James. The first of his claims was that he WAS a sinner, and that Jesus saved him from sin, and so now he does NOT sin anymore. This is ludicrous, I know.

I quoted the verse in Romans 3 to him that said, "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." His response was, "Past tense! I WAS a sinner." He says Jesus saved him FROM sin. I think this was his biggest theological problem. He was difficult to argue with in my walk between classes because he knew the Bible very well and was quoting verses verbatim off the top of his head with references. I was impressed.

The preacher also felt that he had the right to judge people in their sin. Since he does not sin anymore, he was now capable of judging sin. You can imagine how this was handled on a college campus. He yelled repeatedly that all girls who showed their knees and elbows were whores. He even screamed that to individual girls walking by who were just minding their own business. I then realized the reason for the ropes. He also condemned rock and rap music. A group of us proceeded to ask him for a verse for that, and he quoted the one about "being in the world, but not of the world." Notice, it says nothing about music.

After we pointed this out to him, he changed his theory and said it was the words in those songs that made it sacrilegious. He also made blanket statements that everyone who listens to anything other than hymns is going to Hell. People who play video games are going to Hell. People who date are going to Hell. The list went on and on.

There was also no use in arguing with the man because for one, he knew his Bible very well, albeit way off target, and he did not listen when someone pointed out a flaw in his theology. Whenever someone could quiet him enough to read him a verse that contradicted his statements, he would start yelling off topic before the person could finish. He interrupted everyone who argued with him, and yet people were not allowed to interrupt him.

So, a group of friends and I tried talking to his wife who was sitting off to the side.

It was to no avail. I told her that I didn't necessarily disagree with what her husband was doing, just how he went about doing it. I told her that I thought he was missing the main message of Jesus. Jesus wasn't about the wrath of God and escaping Hell, though that is certainly part.

I told her that I thought the main point of Christianity is God's love, that He loved us enough to die for us, and that her husband was missing the crucial part and painting God to be an angry old man just waiting to condemn us. She said that message is not what these "heathens" needed to hear. She said that there are lesbians, gays, all sorts of fornicators, and debauchery going on around the campus, and that what these people need to hear was not God's love, but how they should fear God and His wrath. I had nothing else to say to her.

I was so frustrated. That's why people are angry with Christians. People like them, people on street corners standing on soapboxes, and televangelists who use the name of God for their own gain or to condemn people they deem greater sinners than themselves.

After that whole experience, I decided that the next time someone asks me if I'm a Christian that I'll just say no, but explain to them why. I would say no because I don't want to be associated with those people. If you ask ten people the first thing that comes to mind when they hear the word Christian, you will get ten different answers, most of them negative.

I don't want to be associated with that, and how can you adhere to a term that everyone thinks differently about? Maybe the person was abused by a Sunday School teacher, they met the man who condemned them on my campus, or the only Christians they know are the ones who twist Christianity to be a flag to fly to make money, or feel good about themselves. I don't want to immediately lose my witness to them because they put me in the same group.

I felt like I had failed. I know I have failed. I felt like I owed the entire campus an apology. I wanted to apologize on behalf of all the Christians that those people had come into contact with in their lives.

If we Christians were living like we should, setting the examples we should, sharing our faith like we should, then those hellfire preachers wouldn't have been given the time of day on my campus because those students would've known differently, even if they didn't believe. They would have known that Jesus came to save them so that God wouldn't have to condemn them. They would have known that Christianity is more than an escape from Hell. They would have known that Jesus loves them.

But they didn't. Many of those students who were condemned that day by that preacher only had their image of Christians solidified in their minds. That's what I want to apologize for. They didn't know any better because I have been silent. I have failed to show them God's love, forgiveness, and mercy, while all they see is hate, hell, and a God who doesn't like them. That's why I don't want to say that I'm a Christian when someone asks me.

The preacher told me that I'm going to Hell and that God doesn't love me because of my music taste. I can say with the utmost confidence that I'm not. I don't know what I'm going to say the next time someone asks me about my religious views, but I'll gladly explain myself.

If you liked this article, check out: I'm Done With Playing Church

Josh is a third year mass media communication major at Kennesaw State University just outside Atlanta, GA. He is a worship leader, aspiring writer, and ultimate frisbee fan.

Was Jesus a Revolutionary?

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Was Jesus a revolutionary? What does that mean, and what doesn't it mean?

The Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary defines revolutionary' as, "constituting or bringing about a major or fundamental change." Today's church' likes it's post-modern terms and "Jesus the revolutionary" is one of those that possibly gets caught up in the hype of hip' terms out there in our efforts to reach the emerging generation. Vocabulary can be a tricky thing. Try asking a group of folks what grace' means, and you will find that the pendulum swings from one extreme to another without any balance. Jesus the revolutionary just might evoke this kind of swinging' of definitions. However, I think that Jesus' view of revolutionary and our view are at odds with each other. Let's look at a text that may shed some light on this:

14 And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee, and a report about him went out through all the surrounding country. 15 And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified by all.16 And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. 17 And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written, 18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." 20 And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 And he began to say to them, "Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."(Luke 4:14-21, ESV)

A commentary I was reading on this text suggested that we need to take notice of the revolutionary implications of the Messiah's mission. When rightly viewed, we see that He came to deal with the enormous problems that have afflicted mankind throughout history and today: Poverty. To proclaim good news to the poor. Subjugation. To proclaim liberty to the captives. Grief. To recover the sight of the blind. Cruelty. To set at liberty those who are oppressed. It is true, whether you think of these ills in a physical sense or in a spiritual sense. Christ is the answer, but sometimes I think we can all agree, it is sold' wrongly. Just like the disciples not getting it (they thought He came to overthrow the Roman government), we sometimes preach a gospel that says; "when you become a Christian everything is going to get better." We don't get it' either and need to be reminded too.

Whether we like to admit it or not, we are faced with this same dilemma. Many have thought of Jesus as a teacher, as a good man, or a tragic historical figure who was killed because He was too far ahead of His time. But when we meet Jesus in Scripture, and hear His claims, we realize that Jesus calls on us to see Him as the living Son of God. Believing in Jesus Christ as LORD and SAVIOR is bringing about a major or fundamental change in the way we think about the world, our relationships and what it means to be a Christian.

Jesus' neighbors were confronted with a decision they did not want to make, and a claim they did not want to hear. The Bible says they "were furious" (v. 28), and that they tried to kill Jesus (v. 29). One of the reasons I am a fan of Way of the Master, is because the Law, when rightly understood brings us to the same place, and we must make a decision about God's holiness in light of my sinfulness, about how we all have a gospel gap in our lives, believer and non-believer.

Jesus demonstrated a different life style and taught others to live their lives in a radically new and revolutionary way...going against the culture of His time. When people believed His message and started living differently, it turned the world upside down; it turns the world upside down.

I think we need to be cautious of calling Jesus something He never called Himself. I will let Him speak for Himself;

2 Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples 3and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?" 4And Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5 the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. 6And blessed is the one who is not offended by me." (Matthew 11:2-6)

Another great resource discussing Jesus the revolutionary is by my brother in Christ, Frank Viola at The Ooze.

Derek R. Iannelli-Smith is a bumbling church planter in Goose Creek, SC who is humbled that he had/has an opportunity to attain an M.Div (Pastoral Counseling) and maintain his NANC (Biblical Counseling) certification.

The Missionary Heart of Jesus

Thu, 1 Jan 2009 00:00:00 GMT

Jesus looked out over the crowds and his heart broke with compassion for them. That's one of the reasons he moved around so much.

He was the original missionary, leaving the security of his stomping grounds and going to places he'd never seen where he healed and brought hope to people he'd never met.

"Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the son of man has no place to lay his head," He said.* Motivated by compassion, impelled onward by the mental image of people crying out for help, he pressed on to new and foreign lands.

When warned by Pharisees that Herod was going to kill him, Jesus declared, "Go tell that fox, I will drive out demons today and tomorrow and on the third day I will reach my goal. In any case, I must keep going..."**

Jesus had a missionary heart and he wasted no time in imparting it to his disciples. At one point he told them "we have to go to the other side of the lake" and thereafter he was repeatedly sending them out to people on the other side.

After modeling ministry for them just enough for them to put a toe in the water, he thrust them out as missionaries, saying, "Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that town."***

Jesus initiated his disciples as missionaries before he challenged them to feed his sheep as pastors. Too many pastors go to seminary uninitiated, never having had their heart broken as Jesus' was for the needy and hopeless. Too many disciples have never had a heart transplant and received Jesus' missionary heart.

The Mormons have got it right - they send their young people out for a standard two years. The experience changes them, disabusing them of their narcissism, showing them that there is a world that needs them.

We need to rediscover Jesus' missionary heart and then we need a reformation to impart it to a generation. If I could give young people anything, this would be it. We focus on academics, athletics, and extracurricular stuff, but if we never give them Jesus' missionary heart, we've missed the kingdom.

*Luke 9:58
**Luke 13:32
***Luke 9:4

Seth is the executive director of Adventures in Missions , an evangelical missions organization. He lives in Gainesville, GA with his wife Karen. You can visit his blog "Radical Living in a Comfortable World" at sethbarnes.com.

Christmas: What Would Jesus Do About It?

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 00:00:00 GMT

Remember those "What Would Jesus Do?" bracelets? I hated those stupid things... but I'm sure that I had one.

Given the time of year, it bears consideration: What would Jesus think of Christmas? Would he appreciate how his birthday is being celebrated - with elaborate dinners, decorated houses, sprinkles on cookies, and lots of presents? The Jehovah's Witnesses would say definitely not. And they've got a point.

There's an aspect of Christmas that certainly has nothing to do with Christ. In fact, I have a friend (who's not a Hovey Jovey) who kind of stopped celebrating the holiday, because she realized that how she was doing it had nothing to do with Jesus. I respect her for that.

Personally, I started losing faith in Christmas a long time ago. It wasn't just the Santa Claus myth, but it was more than that. I think that part of it was my growing up and longing for my youthful bliss and naivete. Part of it, however, may have been that Christmas without Jesus really is pointless.

Now, I'm not talking about debating whether or not you can sing Christmas carols in public schools of contesting the use of X instead of "Christ" (as in "Merry Xmas!"). Those are a bit petty issues when you consider who Jesus really was - God in human flesh, come to dwell amongst those who would scorn and reject them, all out of a motive of love. Now, that's something worth celebrating.

And I don't know of a better way to celebrate Christmas than to do the things that Jesus did - to spend time with the poor. I had the privilege of singing Christmas carols with some of Nashville's homeless last weekend, and I'll remember the beauty of that moment for awhile, I'm sure.

Like many of you, I'll be celebrating Xmas (FYI: the "X" represents Christ, in case you didn't know) sitting around a tree, exchanging presents, and stuffing my face. I can't say I don't struggle with that. Part of me will enjoy the fellowship, the rest, and the joy of giving. Part of me, however, will silently been pondering what Jesus would think of Christmas. I think that part of me will be humming the words of Todd Agnew's song On a Corner in Memphis. It's a song about singing about grace in church and wanting to be out on the streets, seeing opportunities to extend grace to the unloved. Here's an excerpt:

And what about this Jesus?
They say He drank with the poor and the blind and the lame
Do you think He'd like the songs that we sing?
Or would He feel the same as I do?
What if Sunday School was on Saturday night?

What if their heart-breaking cries of pain
Are the first hymns of tomorrow's saints?

On a corner in Memphis, we're singing with the old man
Crying for his sorrows and laying down our pride
He's telling us our story, or at least his side
With no need to pretend and nowhere to hide

On a corner in Memphis
We're singing out our sorrows
He's telling us his story
With no need to pretend and nowhere to hide

On a corner in Memphis

Jeff graduated from Illinois College, a small liberal arts school, with a degree in Spanish and Religion. He lives in Nashville, TN. He works for Adventures in Missions, edits this silly little magazine, and loves to do new things. He just got married in January. Check out his blog: Pilgrimage of the Heart.