"If anyone comes to Me and does not hate...even his own life..."

Impossible:

"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple." Luke 14:26

"Impossible" is a word I HATE. Speaking of "hate," I feel that here I need to give the token explanation of that word in this passage: it does not mean to experience feelings of loathing or dislike for your family or your life. It is a very strong way of saying which thing you will choose above the other should you be forced to make a choice. 

And Jesus seems to be saying here that you will have to make a choice.

Jesus says, "You want to follow me? You want eternal life? Ok. Let's make a deal. You give me everything you have and everyone you love, and in exchange I will give you eternal life and make you mine, one of my followers." 

There's the deal. But wait. "Count the cost," he says later in the passage. "When you choose me over your family, it may be at the cost of your physical life or theirs. When you choose me over all that you have, it may be at the cost of extreme poverty or physical or emotional suffering."

I used to read these passages through the eyes of an idealogue. I was young and restless and unfettered by anything or anyone. What did I own besides a little old Corolla, a laptop and a guitar? Who stood to suffer much by my being swept away by Jesus? Now, I have much, much more to lose. I own my own business which supports my family entirely. I have a wife who leans on me almost completely and loves me more than I ever could have imagined. I have three beautiful children whose lives are just in the very seedlings stages, tender green and gently pushing up through the soft soil into life. They depend on me (and their mother) completely. The suffering that would occur from my being swept away by Jesus has been exponentially expanded over the last five years. So now it's not so easy to read these words from the Master with the passion and enthusiasm and fire of youth. Now I read this and shake my head . . .

Impossible.

I used to be quick to rant against and shred any timid interpretation of this passage--you know, when people say, "Well, it doesn't mean hate," which is, of course, a safe place to start but,"It just really means you love Jesus SOOO MUCH that your deep love for your family looks small (almost like hate??) in comparison.... so, love JESUS! A lot!"

Ah, that feels better. Unfortunately, it completely misses the point of this passage. No, Jesus really is calling us to something here that is impossible-- or, at least, should feel impossible. This passage isn't really about love. Not directly. It'll come back around to love, eventually, but right now this is about choices. Like the choice my 3-year-old daughter faces once or twice a week: "Mommy and your little brothers are going shopping. Do you want to go with Mommy or stay home with Daddy? Now Daddy is going to be working in his office, so you'll have to play by yourself and not bother him about everything. Do you want to stay home and play by yourself or go shopping with Mommy?" She always chooses to stay home because she is a definite introvert. The point is she can't choose both. She can't go with Mommy and stay home. If she wants to stay home she has to "renounce" Mommy and the shopping trip. It's not that she doesn't love Mommy. But she is willing to be separated from her for a few hours in order to pursue her life's course of playing with her dolls by herself uninterrupted by her little brother--bliss for her. 

This quiet, solitary bliss for her is to us comparable to eternal life and the path of Jesus. We can't have our cake and eat it too. We can't follow Jesus into eternal life and have all of our earthly loves and obligations too. 

But this is impossible to most of us. It's true. Even the apostles found that out the hard way.--when the three years of miracles and great teaching to multitudes suddenly exploded in the dark garden Gethsemane. In the ugly torchlight of a gang of armed temple guards and Judas' false kiss, the remaining eleven disciples were forced to make a choice: continue to follow Jesus bound for a cross or flee to protect their families and their lives. To continue following this reckless Rabbi proved impossible for most of them. Even Peter, in the end, fled. He wasn't quite ready to make the choice, to "renounce all that he had." He had a family to protect after all (Mt 8:14).

So, no, don't take the teeth out of Jesus' teaching here to "renounce it all," to choose Christ over family and security and everything you have. It's for real. And it is impossible. That ugly 10-letter word turned away the "rich, young ruler." Riches were supposed to connote God's favor upon someone. If a rich guy could not obtain eternal life, how could anyone enter the Kingdom? But here's the good news about this impossible call: "What is impossible with man, is possible with God." (Luke 18:27) How? Mercy. His incredulous disciples would eventually learn that it is God's mercy and not our ability to follow Jesus' impossible commands that will make us secure. And God's mercy will compel us to follow Jesus' impossible call--no matter how many times we fail trying.

One example and this is my last point. Remember Peter fled? Well. He didn't just quietly slip away unnoticed. He first made a lying, disloyal, cowardly embarrassment of himself and then ran out into the night "weeping bitterly." Jesus said, Renounce everyone and everything and follow me. And Peter said, I will, even to the death. And then he didn't. He abandoned ship after all. It was too hard. Impossible.

But not with God. Not with Jesus. In the weeks following Christ's resurrection we find this incredibly moving scene of mercy. John 21. Jesus pursues Peter and ambushes him but not so that he can condemn him, judge him, and crush him for his cowardly denial and abandonment on the night Jesus needed his loyalty most. He finds Peter so that he can completely undo Peter's ignomy and restore him, recommission him. There on that beach he prophesies Peter's future renunciation of his own life for the sake of Christ. Here is where it all comes back to love. Jesus lovingly and firmly reminds Peter that Peter loves Jesus after all. Peter can now understand the foundation of his love: Jesus' mercy to him. In the end (according to Christian tradition), that mercy will compel Peter's love to choose crucifixion over life and all other relationships.

What was impossible for Peter--without a full grasp of Christ and his mercy--was possible with God--in the full light of Christ's merciful love. 

What is impossible for me and you--"hating" our families and renouncing all that we have--is possible with God--when we rest secure and allow our families to rest secure in God's merciful love.

“Ordinary”: A New Battle-Cry for Christianity?

Evangelical Christians are beginning to tire of rigorous calls to a radical, crazy love type of religion. Articles in some pretty conspicuous places such as Christianity Today and WORLD Magazine cry out warnings against discontentment and legalism for those who actually attempt to practice the type of discipleship David Platt and Francis Chan (among others) are calling for. Down with “radical” and “crazy!” The new word on the street is “ordinary” as Tim Challies and Kevin DeYoung tell us. All four of these articles and others have received very positive responses. Seems like American Christians are just plain worn out! Can’t we be comfortable and Christian? Can’t we please just be ordinary, like everyone else?

But what exactly is “ordinary” for a Christian? Challies, DeYoung, Bradley & Co. would point to some New Testament texts such as the following from Ephesians, Colossians, and the letters to Timothy and to the Thessalonians:

We’re commanded to do “honest work with [our] own hands, so that [we] may have something to share with anyone in need.”

We’re commanded to “work heartily” at whatever we do, working “as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.”

We’re commanded “to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.” Idleness and shameless mooching are roundly condemned.

We’re called to provide for our own family, and he who doesn’t “has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”

Forgetting, for the moment, the contexts of these texts (which are leveled explicitly at recovering thieves, poorly-treated slaves, and negligent, lazy bums) let’s take what we can from them:

1.      Work hard.

2.      Provide for your own family.

3.      Don’t exploit others by forcing them to make up for your selfish laziness (Paul would rather you starved).

4.      Mind your own business.

5.      Live a peaceful life (don’t be “those neighbors” late at night and don’t be quarrelsome).

Pretty good stuff. In fact, these are many of the principles that built America into such a land of opportunity and wealth. But there’s nothing surprising there. Not even to an unbeliever. That’s ordinary, for sure. But is that what makes us Christian? Are these the principles that make us “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world?” Only partially.

There’s more here. Let me add three more take-aways to this list just from these four texts:

6.      Make one of the explicit purposes of your honest, hard work to “have something to share with anyone in need.”

7.      Work hard as if every ounce of energy spent and every pound of production were going directly to Jesus Christ’s advantage and your own eternal reward—not simply to your earthly boss’s bottom line.

8.      Work consistently and honestly for the purpose of having an unstained reputation “before outsiders.”

These last three principles represent, in part, the unique doctrines that drive a lifestyle which sets a Christian apart from the world, the unbelievers (or the Gentiles, as Jesus would have said): a work ethic driven not simply by survival or getting-ahead, but by sacrificial generosity; an attitude that battles feelings of futility with knowledge of the King and His eternal reward; a faithfulness on the job fueled by missional intentionality. These are doctrines that turn a mundane, ordinary job into a radical vocation.

Yet we still don’t have a complete picture of what it means to follow Christ. Here’s a few other texts to throw into the ordinary ole life-mix:

We’re commanded to be holy “as He who called [us] is holy.”

We’re described as “strangers, sojourners and exiles on the earth;”

We are to suffer injustice as Christ did, who, “when he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.”

We are promised persecution if we “desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus.”

We are shown an example of giving to God’s work that looks like an “abundance of joy and . . .  extreme poverty [overflowing] in a wealth of generosity.”

We are called to “show hospitality to strangers.” And that’s more than a friendly sidewalk greeting.

And to sum it all up, the purest expression of our devotion to our God is “to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

Ordinary? Well, if that’s your definition, then I’m already too tired to hear what you’d call “radical.”

My Beloved Choice

When I those bitter nails embraced, 
Your sins made Mine, God's wrath replaced 
To My own head, My Father's face 
Turned 'way from Me to give you grace. 

I swear, I did not die in vain 
Nor risk My pure and holy Name 
To leave your wasting life the same 
Or let the stench of death remain. 

I'm not willing to give you up 
To any man or devil foe. 
I'm not willing to let you go 
To waste your life, to lose your soul. 

I chose you by My love and grace 
Before the world, before your race. 
I've called you My beloved choice 
To sing and be My glory's voice.

(November 2008)

Stewardship (Part 2): The Master's Heart

What was the problem with the "wicked, lazy slave" of Matthew 25?

Well, duh. He was "wicked" and "lazy."

Ok. But . . .

What's so wicked about him? He is given fifteen years' wages to hang onto while his master is out of town--about $300,000 give or take. And he doesn't steal a penny of it! What is so lazy about him? He is entrusted with $300,00, and he doesn't lose any of it; he gives his master $300,000 upon his return. It could have been a lot worse, right?

Well, not according to the master. "Cast into outer darkness" to spend his days in "weeping and gnashing of teeth" does not sound like acceptance or even toleration of that safe deposit box servant. So what's the big deal? Is this an overreaction?

No.

Here's why: He's called a slave (NASB) or servant (ESV), but he's treated as a steward. That's the most exalted position for a servant. That gives him discretion and some degree of authority with a great deal of responsibility. It also portends a great reward if he is a "good and faithful steward."

Now notice: the first two slaves both do the exact same thing with the master's money. And they both do it "immediately." As if they don't even think about it. How is that? Well, ironically, the wicked slave offers us an explanation. He claims, "Master, I knew you . . ." to which the master replies in confirmation, "You wicked, lazy slave, you knew that I . . ." The point here is that the slaves "know" their master, and their master expects them to act according to their knowledge of him. That is, they are expected to do what he would do.

That's what makes a "good and faithful" steward.

The first two slaves act immediately because they know their master intimately; they know his heart. They do the exact same thing (although they are two different people) because they are acting according to their master's desires, not their own.The wicked slave seems to know his master only in part. He has observed his practices, but not his heart. He believes his master to be "a hard man" (although the master proves otherwise in the way he rewards his good slaves) and acts accordingly--in fear. 

Unfortunately, we as the modern, American Church often read this parable and can't get past the principles of western finacial practices we see modeled by the first two slaves. We seem to think the money, the bank is the point of the parable.

Or, if we do apply it more broadly, as in using our "talents" (we always intend a pun here, too) for God's glory instead of just sitting on the couch (or the pew), we don't go deep enough. We usually throw out suggestions like singing in the choir, being willing to usher and take the offering, help your church with accounting or teach Sunday School (all good things, by the way). But is that what this parable is all about? The master's wrath poured out if we sit in the pew on Sundays instead of the choir loft?

I realize I'm oversimplifying this, but I want to jar us out of a sleepy, false view of "church" and "the Kingdom" that we've dozed into. Church is not the event we put on for a few hours every Sunday. And if we think the kingdom looks like merely a bunch of people standing around Jesus' throne all saying the same creed, we're wrong there too.

Confession of Christ with the tongue (or some kind of sign language?) is an essential part of the Gospel, and the New Testament pattern of Sunday worship celebrations gives us a joyous time together each week. But if those two items are the sum of our faith, of our vision of the Kingdom, of Church, then it may be that we don't really know our Master's heart as we should.

In Matthew 25:14-30, Jesus is teaching us what a true steward looks like. Then, in verses 31-46, our Master shows us his heart:

'Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. ³⁵For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, ³⁶ I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' ³⁷Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? ³⁸And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? ³⁹And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' ⁴⁰And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'

So my question is: Knowing the Master's heart above, how are we spending the resources he's put into our hands? Are we pouring our money and time and "talents" into giving food and drink, welcoming and visiting and clothing the destitute? Or are we driven by Fear as the "wicked, lazy" servant? So driven by fear that we have poured all of our time and our money into "providing" for our family's American lifestyle that we don't have time or money "left over" to fulfill our Master's deepest desires? It is HIS money after all. It is HIS time.  Your life is HIS life after all. 

I guess how we want to answer that question depends on if we believe truly good stewardship, as defined by Christ, is optional or not. And I guess we have to figure out if it's optional by deciding whether we should allow "cast into outer darkness" with "weeping and gnashing of teeth" as a legitimate option. 

"Don't Run with Knives!"

"Don't run with knives!"    Love, Mother.

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."    Love, Mother.

When it comes to satire, one of these is good advice. The other is not. 

We have a little problem here. Somewhere way back in mankind's illustrious linguistic history somebody found out that the big, ugly playground bullies with their lethally aimed "sticks and stones" aren't the only pain-inflicting villains to be wary of. "Words will never hurt me!" has always been a defense mechanism. And a lie. We've learned that a quick cut from a knife blade can hurt much worse and for far longer than a couple of good whacks from a bully's stick. 

A word is a knife. Or can be. Consider the word "Sarcasm." It's Greek. Means "flesh cutting." Pretty picture, yes? And most of us know the biting feel of sarcasm's blade. In literary circles it's called satire. Same thing, just people started making money off of it in the early 18th century. Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift, Dryden, Defoe--everyone was doing it! But it didn't make people any less mad then. 

Since then, we've come a long ways. We've civilized ourselves and set up walls against those cutting words. The most ostensibly moralistic one is a nice little--no, fairly good-sized two-word phrase: "politically correct." (This phrase is actually intellectual-ese for "lying through my teeth.") Because we can't say anything that might offend someone. So we just try to change people by keeping a "good Christian testimony" or something like that. 

Well, recently there seems to be a rediscovering of the fact that--gasp!--Jesus said offensive things! Not just offensive, but funny too! So they cut the flesh--and made people laugh! It's not just Jesus, either. God does it in other places of Scripture to. He makes fun of idol worshipers who chop down a tree and, very economically, use one half out of which to carve their idol and the other part of the tree for firewood! 

The defense of satire as a mode used in Scripture is growing. This is good. Pastors such as Mark Driscoll and Douglas Wilson offer some well thought-out and helpful looks at Biblical satire. So, we're allowed to be sarcastic again! 

Here's what scares me (and you satirists can satirize me for my unease): sarcasm has always been fun. At least for the one holding the knife. (The one getting his flesh mutilated, eh, not so fun.) And now with this rediscovery of satire, it's like being given a gift (and satire requires a degree of wit that really is a gift) at Christmas--one you really like! So you run around showing it off to everyone. Or trying it out on everyone--hey, it's fun! 

Not the thing to do with knives. This is not the same thing as having the gift of encouragement. While there are things you should not encourage, by and large, encouragement is pretty safe for anyone to use and to use in almost any conversation. My father-in-law is known as "the nicest person you will ever meet" because of his constantly encouraging attitude. That's ok. He hasn't ruined his kids. He knows when to put his "frowny face" on. But he can be confident in random words of encouragement--it's ok to run with that. 

But with sarcasm we must be more strategic. Driscoll says, "Feed the sheep; shoot the wolves; rebuke the swine; bark at the dogs." This means that the words we choose (literarily: our mode) must be determined by our audience--not by what mood we're in, not by whether those words are fun or not. I fear we've pulled out our newly found, Biblical wittiness from its sheath and (rather unlike a deliberate surgeon) taken off at a sprint, perhaps tripping and stumbling and cutting some of the sheep where there was no need for surgery at all. This is not good. This is sad. 

I'm not trying to be the Holy Spirit telling you when to be "nice" and when to be cutting. Just this: Be careful, my witty brothers and sisters; please listen to your mother: "Don't run with knives!"

Stewardship: With the Master out of town

Stewardship is one of those Christianese words I've heard in church all my life. I can remember sitting bored on those fiery-orange upholstered pews (which were significantly more comfortable than the new pews with their rather non-descript, hotel curtains-esque pattern and hard wooden backs) leaning my head on the flat, sticky headrail on the back of the pew before me and staring aimlessly down to the same color of glaring orange in the carpet. Trying to stretch my toes to snag the little wooden footstool from in front of my brother, I remember words falling all around me--words like "budget" and "good steward" and "planning for the future" and "wise, careful use of money" and "financial stability." These were usually part of a sermon bearing some form of the word "Stewardship" in its title. The parable of the good stewards and bad steward was always present to some degree, affirming the stability and godliness of western banking practices, and the Proverbs were an inexhaustible source of back-up material for denegrating wasteful spending and advancing financial investing. Of course, tithing was touched on--usually with some awkwardness because the one teaching the pew-sitters to tithe was the most direct beneficiary of the tithe. Thus was formed my understanding of "good, Christian stewardship," meaning, "Don't get into debt; if you do, pay it back; do your homework to invest your money wisely; tithe and thereby show your gratitude for God's having blessed us with so much wealth."

However, also throughout my life, I've been taught a different kind of stewardship. General life choices stewardship, stemming from the verse in I Corinthians 6 about my life not being my own but having been "bought with a price" by Someone else. Therefore, of course, it was not my prerogative what to do with my life; I had to follow the will of God. He is my Master, I merely His steward.

None of this that I've related is false teaching. It's all true, but is it complete? Are these teachings, in fact, central to an essential understanding of "stewardship," whether financial or otherwise? And why do they look different? Why is the basis for wise financial stewardship the generation of wealth and the obviation of risk (i.e. stability), while the basis for stewardship in the rest of my life is the mysterious "will of God" and avoidance of worldly influences?

I am currently living in a situation that very closely parallels these New Testament teachings about a master and a steward. I live on a piece of property adjacent to my landlord's own dwelling, and I and my wife work for our rent. I do whatever Travis tells me to do. I use his tools, spend his money, and tend to his land. None of it's mine. And so whenever he gives me a project to work on, I do it. Even if I would do nothing of the sort were it my own money and property. People have asked me: Why are you cleaning out those woods? Why are you burning that stuff? Why do you mow that entire field? Sometimes I understand Travis's thinking, other times not. The bottom line is: Travis desires it; it's his money, not mine; I'm going to do it. That's stewardship. Taking care of what is not yours in the way the owner desires. So if Travis hands me $200 and tells me to buy $200 worth of bubble-blowing soap and set up a continuously-fed bubble loop in front of the industrial-size fan in his barn, even though no one will ever see the bubbles, I do it. Wasteful? I don't worry about it. I do it, and that's good stewardship on my part.

Good stewardship, you see, is not necessarily using money in a way that merits the approval of the gurus on Wall Street. Good stewardship is doing with "your" money whatever God (whose it is) tells you to do with that money--even if it looks absolutely foolish to the world at large. Of course, I do not ignore the financial principles given in the Proverbs and other passages. I have bank accounts; I budget; I work to feed my family.

But that is not all that Jesus tells us to do with money. His money. Read the New Testament looking for a theme in its treatment of money. There is one. It goes like this: Give, even to the point of hazarding your livelihood. Then, when you've found yourself in a hazardous place financially--"do not be anxious, for your Father knows what you need. Seek the Kingdom of God first and foremost, thrive on His righteousness, and everything you need will be added to you." If this were not so, Christ would have disparaged the widow who gave her last two pennies of livelihood. He would have denounced (as Judas Iscariot did) the woman that annointed him with a year's wages worth of perfume a week before his death. He would have stopped his disciples from leaving their nets. He would never have told many to sell all they have and give to the poor. And the church in Acts and II Corinthians 9-10 would not have held all things in common or given "liberally out of their extreme poverty."

Let's admit it, if some of Christ's teachings seem like poor stewardship to us, it's because we're so saturated with Wall Street's view of money. Christ's value system prizes love above money, and so money subserves to make much of love. Good stewardship doesn't have to make sense to the other stewards. It's the Master's mission anyways.

Speaking of the Master's mission . . .

Once a Blessing; Now a Curse?

Over the last few weeks, Cassie and I have become acquainted with a new facial gesture. It's a sort of uncertain, consoling thing people do with their eyebrows, usually accompanied by the thought of a smile. Uncertain because they're not sure how to respond to what we've just told them. There is something in their brain that says, "Oh no! I'm sorry--" but there is something in our faces that says, "Isn't this great!"

See the thing we tell them is: "We're having a baby!"

And Cassie and I couldn't be happier (this side of heaven, at this point in our lives)! We are expecting our first child, and I begin to identify with Mary (though not half so ambitious in the promised results of our primogenitor) at her own annunciation. It's a time of incomprehensible anticipation-- joyous anticipation!


So why? Why is it that some raise their eyebrows? Why is it that some outrightly say, "You're too young, too newly wed"? Why is it that our non-use of birth control in the first nuptial year is so out-of-the-ordinary in our society--even in our churches? It is almost as if there runs an insane line of thinking (though mainly subconscious, it is basically pervasive) which goes thusly:

Yes, children are nice once we grow bored with life being just the two of us (sanitized: once we've had a number of years to just get to know each other) and have exhausted the pleasure of complete and absolute privacy--maybe a couple of progeny would be nice then, to carry on the family name at least. Children can be cute after all--in small quantities, of course. But thank God we now have the technology to obviate that burden that used to inevitably accompany marriage! Now, we can be free--to build our careers and our bank accounts (I mean, to be responsible stewards), to get to know each other without ubiquitous interruptions (I mean, besides the never-sleeping TV, the husband's video games, etc. Now we can "control" the interruptions.).

Some even seem to think: It is YOUR responsibility to avail yourself of this newly en vogued vivial-sovereignty. After all, your marriage will suffer if you have children right away, and God MIGHT cease to meet your needs if you embrace parenthood while you're still stuck at that low standard of living in which newlyweds usually find themselves. God, after all, does not condescend to those who are foolish with the gifts he gives: God helps those who help themselves.


Now, this is not a rant against birth control. Most adamantly not. There are, I believe, some very good reasons for birth control. But, friends, we've gone too far! We make newlyweds to feel awkward and foolish, strange--as if they've got two heads (or three or four, to make it truly strange) or as if something slipped--when children come along in the first year of marriage.

When the Creator of our earth and race and the Inspirator of Scripture calls something a "blessing" and "an inheritance from the LORD" we ought to be more careful not to call that into question. I fear that we in the West have become so enamored with a certain standard of living that anything that could keep us from that life is viewed as a curse. And anyone who decides to raise a family at a significantly lower standard of living is a poor steward, maybe even "worse than an infidel" like the one condemned in I Timothy 5:8 (which, by the way, was written in a cultural context when the average person did not even have electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, more than four sets of clothes and many other things we consider just the bare essentials. Let's be careful how we apply that verse.).

It seems we've got lots of kinks in our thinks; most of those will take many other sessions to straighten out. But can we start with one thing, please? When someone tells you they're pregnant, be excited for them! I understand, it makes life more difficult, but when God calls something "a blessing," trust Him enough not to call it a curse!

"Be Jesus to them."

This is a motto I've heard (and read) a lot the past three years. From Shane Claiborne or Mother Teresa or Francis Chan or Philip Yancey, it seems many Christians are trying to take a fresh look at the Jesus of the Gospels. "The Jesus I never knew," as Yancey puts it, seems to be calling out to American Christians in our generation to remember his concern for "the least of these, My brothers," and to open our eyes to the needs that lie in our cities' gutters or a forgotten ocean away. What does it mean to "take up your cross?" What does Jesus have in mind for us when he calls us Americans two thousand years removed from those first net-forsaking fishermen to also "Follow Me?" What does it mean to imitate the Son of God and "be Jesus to them?"

I came across this list of Jesus impostors with a simple Google search (the quickest way to get the facts!). While Jesus was certainly an eyebrow-raiser and a radical in the eyes of many, somehow I don't think these anomalies have quite got what it means to "be conformed to the image of [Christ]." And yet, if we are content to simply sit back and perform our religious rituals and favorite Christo-American pastimes-- attending church, talking about theology, listening to Christian music, reading Christian books by Christian authors writing about Christian things to do or think about, going to Bible study to sing and to do all the above activities with people who are just like us-- we are also missing something essential in our reflections of the Messiah who gathered to himself lepers and prostitutes. All of those rituals that I listed, those are very nourishing for a vibrant Christian life-- but there's more!

"Good things come when Jesus comes!" was the jubilant song echoing from lungs of Africans in the film I just watched. As we watched an American well-driller and an African evangelist carry good news-- clean drinking water and eternal living water-- into village after village, our friend Liz turned to Dustan and said, "The Gospel brings social reform!" And I was thinking in my mind, The Gospel brings better life! That's what real good social reform is-- better life. In many different ways, physical and spiritual.

My own first trip to Africa lent me an awareness of the physical needs of those on the poorer sides of the tracks-- or the ocean-- three years ago. Since then I've wrestled long and strenuously with my role as a bringer of "better life"-- both spiritually and physically. I have been given great gifts as an American: freedom of travel, discretionary finances, educational depth and breadth-- to name just a few. How should I use them? What quickly became the heaviest motivator on my heart was, How can I use this wealth on myself when Christ cries out to me from the teary eyes and open hands of the poor and needy all over the world-- in Greenville and in Africa? But, as I saw needs I had never noticed before exponentially multiplied before my burdened soul and as I eagerly reached into my middle-class American pockets and reached out to calloused, dirty, drug-plagued hands, I soon realized that I could easily spend all my time and resources dishing out my valued American dream into needy hands and never bring my hungry fellow man to the feast that my Father has prepared with the broken body and spilt blood of His Son. A feast to which he bids me compel the hedge and highway dwellers come!

So over the past three years my thinking has developed to the question, How can I best use these resources made available through a worldly citizenship from an unprecedentedly wealthy and free country to further a Kingdom whose King conquers through love rather than swords and bombs, by sacrifice rather than with Roman denarii or American dollars? I've had to learn that God directs the path of each member of his body uniquely, that I cannot judge my brother who drives a Mercedes anymore than he ought judge me for the color of my shirt. The wallet that opened for the purchase of the $50,000 luxury sedan is also the wallet that feeds my pastor and donates generously to my enormous school bill-- and that wallet is filled by the same Father whose love compels me to "sell everything [I] have" and follow his Son to the poor and illiterate.

But understanding that liquidating my meager assets and showing up at the rescue mission food line with a backpack full of cash to hand out with the chicken soup and stale bread is probably not what will shake the gates of Hell most, how do I sacrifice it ALL for the Kingdom of Heaven?

Live in a shed? Drive a $500 car? Shop at Goodwill, SOS, Safe Harbor, Miracle Hill? Live off Raisin Bran and charity? Type this post up on a 10-year-old Toshiba? Leave it all for China, Albania, Africa? Sure. That's for me, and I'm sure there's more to pursue, there's a heavier, more rugged, more fatal cross awaiting me. For Roland the Well-driller it is a life in Africa far, far away from his American homeland. For Dennis the Evangelist it is a headlong, do-or-die assault on the Hell-tended gates of a demon-worshiping village in West Africa. For you it could be walking to school, providing care for your aging parents or grandparents, giving your summers to the mentally impaired or the foreign mission field, walking to the fringes of downtown to find blank-eyed homeless wanderers and to be a friend-- a true friend. It could be to take that guy out to lunch-- you know, the guy that just has no clue how to hold a conversation and leaves Sunday School as fast as he can because he doesn't want to feel awkward standing around with no one to not-be-able-to talk to? It could be to sell everything you own and give the money to an orphanage. To go and live in that orphanage.

Whatever the cross, whatever the reflection of Jesus that you will be called to be, it will be your own, but you will not be alone. You will find the body of Christ more ever-pervasive than you have ever imagined. You will share in the sufferings of Christ and find out what it really means to "be Jesus to them."

Episode 3: I Once Was Blind from Dispatches From The Front on Vimeo.

When I die . . .

"When I go, don't cry for me;
In my Father's arms I'll be.
Wounds this world left on my soul
Will all be healed, and I'll be whole.

It don't matter where you bury me,
'Cause I'll be home, and I'll be free.
It don't matter where I lay;
All my tears'll be washed away."

--Mary McLaughlin

Please don't spend money on a coffin I'll never actually be inside of to enjoy.
Please don't paint me as a perfect Christian at my memorial-- I'm not.
Please do celebrate at my memorial-- bubbles, good food, good memories, high hopes.
Please let Cassie "preach" at my memorial.
Please let those who need the closure see my deceased body, but please not everyone-- I won't be in it at the moment, and so it won't really be me. It's just not a good representation of me anyways-- since when did I ever lay that still?!
Please do invite everyone I know to the memorial: friends, enemies (especially enemies), co-workers past and present, random dudes off the street; go through my contacts, my emails, my facebook friends, my receipts-- the works!-- it'll be the biggest day of my life!
Please do go through my journals; there are things I've written in there that I want preached or told at my memorial-- but I'd better good and dead before you touch them!!!
Please do cry if you need to, but remember, I want you all to go on-- not just "move on" but to push ahead with a renewed vengeance, raging against the gates of Hell with a triumphant smile through your tears. Know that though Hell succeeded in bringing me to a physical death, it is a very temporal success and eventually will be robbed of even that physical death. When you see this physical body succumb to that accursed Death, please rage all the fiercer against those black and awful gates and snatch many others from Hell's grip.
Please, if I am martyred for the Gospel's sake, please forgive my enemies and love them as God loved me when I was his enemy and murdered his Son.
Please sing lots of songs celebrating my Saviour and my HOME! (Because whereever I live forever, it will be with God, and that is home.) I have a playlist on my computer (WMP) that has some good suggestions; it's called, "Created for a place I've never known."
And remember, there's a good chance I might be able to watch the proceedings, so I'll know whether or not your honor these wishes, and if I'm allowed I will come haunt you . . .

This is the happiest time in my life. I've never been happier, and I expect the coming years here in this life to bring an even deeper happiness (along with sorrows deeper than I've yet experienced). I have a great life here with many inspiring dreams and beloved people (esp. Cass) seemingly worth living for. But none of this (no, not even my bride-to-be) can compare to what awaits me when I finally leave "Jordan's stormy banks" and come to that "fair and happy land where my possessions lie." That's why I'm excited to die-- I hope it happens tonight! I mean, I feel bad for those to whom God has given a love for me, those of you that have to stay behind with my dust, but try to be happy for me! And we'll meet again . . . soon.

"It is not death to die . . . "

This goes here; that goes there.

Compartmentalization. One of those rare seven-syllable words.

In my last post, I mentioned that missions gets compartmentalized. I then went on to compartmentalize it (sort of). When I say missions gets compartmentalized, what I mean is that, in relation to the rest of life, missions gets pushed into some separate sphere, some separate category. And partially, I think that's ok. Partially, I think that's tragic. To our 21st century American-Christianity mindset, there are different stations in life, each clearly distinguishable from the others. You can be a teacher, you can be an artist, you can be an accountant, you can be a marketing manager, you can be a piano teacher, you can be a pastor, you can be a missionary, you can be a church-planter. You can even be a tent-making church-planter or missionary. You can be this, or you can be that. And this goes here (or stays here, rather), and that goes there.

But answer me this: what makes a tent-making missionary in Bangladesh different from an elementary school teacher in Cary, NC? Well, the missionary goes to a foreign country-- overseas. Ok, right. True. And, to be honest, that's what I based my own compartmentalization of missions on. It makes sense: Missionary: missi: to send (Latin). Therefore, to go, like far away. The only problem is that Jesus sent all of us! GO into all the world sounds an awful lot like a missi, like a sending.

The world is not just a geographical globe. It is a very dysfunctional, disconnected community in a headlong fall. The world is a people-- all people-- that have become disconnected from God and, as a result, dysfunctional in the very thing for which we were created: love. To go into this world is simply to be where people are. When you are at the grocery store, you are in the world. You have "gone". Good! So that's half the command.

Now the rest is to make disciples of all peoples. Yeah, that's the hard part. No, it's impossible. What we as mere men and women can do, what is possible to us, is to make disciples for ourselves. We can get people to follow us. But to make someone a disciple of Jesus, they have to meet Jesus. There's a popular phrase I've read and heard, and I like it. It's the idea of Being Jesus to people you meet. That means, chiefly, to love them, to do good to them. For some people that's buying them a meal. For some that's adopting them as your child. For many it's simple taking an interest in their lives. That's love. That's what love does, of course (I Corinth. 13), and Jesus is most typified by love. It's as simple as asking the clerk at the grocery store how late she has to work that night and offering some sympathy. Finding out if he is in college or if she has kids and how old. When you start getting people talking about what they really love or really hate, you start to get into who they really are. And what they are is created to be God's people, His children, His love. I don't mean to make it sound easy. It's not. I'm terrible at it, mostly because I'm more compelled by fear than love.

Disciple-making is hard and nervous and scary. But it's what we're here for. It's what we were "sent" into the "world" for. In that sense we have wrongly compartmentalized missions. In that sense we are missionaries everytime we walk into that grocery store or Starbucks or assembly floor or office or school building or into the same room as your undiscipled child.

Have we forgotten this? Have I forgotten this here in America as I am training to "go?"

It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. It's not something I am a good example of. It's not (I am sad to admit) something that I do often. But I want to.

Jesus, you've given me what seems like an impossible command to follow. I mean, at least the second half seems impossible. I get scared when I think of initiating conversations with people I don't know. Please drive out this fear by giving me a love for You that spills over to people, to these people that you have sent me to. These whom you have died for. Let me be YOU to them. Let me love them. Compel me to love them!

Remind us that America is not our home. This is not where we "stay"-- this is where we have gone, where you have sent us. Remind us that we will stay with You one day, but now as we love you, we are to seek to do your will, which is to go into the world and introduce them to you, to show them who they must follow as disciples!

Here am I, Lord, BUT . . .

Missions. Missions has perhaps become too compartmentalized in our western perspective on Christianity. No, I'm certain it has become too compartmentalized. But missions is what I want to do. It's what God has given me a burden for. When I speak of missions I'm referring to traveling to a culture that is foreign to me specifically for the purpose of proclaiming the Gospel "in the uttermost parts of the earth." This is a passion for me. I live in a land that is bursting at the seams it's so full of churches. When you look at the spiritual grid of the earth, America should stand out like a full moon, for we have in this nation the most numerous (except for China) and the most visible collection of Christians that the world has ever known.

My desire is to see other places in the world that are currently pitch black spots on that world lighting map become white hot lights of worship of the God who created all people everywhere. I want to be part of that. I want to go and be there where the world is darkest-- where no one else wants to go.Why there? Why those particular places? I don't know. It's hard to explain, and I hope it's not simply a maverick sort of attitude that's driving me. What I believe to be in my heart is the compelling urgency the springs from the Apostle Paul's own voice in his words from Romans 10: How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”

It's that, "Who else?!" question that got me in the first place. I think I was in 9th grade. The summer before ninth grade, I think. There was an evangelist preaching a week of services at our church, during which we actually met in the National Guard Armory's gym because our church was under renovation. I remember sitting in those uncomfortable metal chairs in that sweltering humid heat and that evangelist listing off city after city of millions of people but with few enough churches to be counted on one hand. He talked about how for every ten missionaries that leave the field only one is going out to replace him-- and yet the world's population is growing?! I left that service thinking, "Wow. Something needs to be done! Someone needs to go!" But it had not yet occurred to me that I could go. That came later.

God and I had this conversation that I can still remember today. Now, you may think, Naw, God doesn't talk to people like that anymore! Not like He talked to Moses. And I would say, First, how do you know? And, second, no, it wasn't quite like that. It was more like a conversation I have with myself. Only instead of myself being the other thought-voice in my head, it was God the Spirit. I'm pretty sure of this. It went something like this, I was just boredly sitting on my bed thinking, thinking about all those people in those big cities in Asia and other places and how every two seconds or something, someone dies and how many of them go to hell, when God said--"said"--

"Well, what about you?"

To which I quickly and matter-of-factly replied, "Who-- me? Nah, I'm just . . . me. Just Seth. I'm not a missionary. No one in my family has ever--"

I think God kind of interrupted me there, but it was OK because I really had nowhere else to go; He said,"Why not? What does it really take to be a missionary?"

I was dumbfounded (you never win even a single point in a debate with God): "Huh . . ."

And He kept on coming, "If not you, then who? Who else?"

I think I changed the subject at that point, because there was no decision yet. It was something more organic than that. God changed my thinking with that conversation. It was more organic than some flash of light at midnight, called by a vision thing. Almost reflexively, I started to take an interest in missions, in traveling, in foreign cultures. I made a public commitment at my church the next year or maybe just a couple of months later, but that wasn't really the big deal. That's not what's kept me going towards the coasts, towards the airport terminals. I know some people say you have to have this "missionary call" or whatever, but that's bologne. How do you know what God designed you to be? I don't know. It's different for everyone. Love God and follow your dreams, pursue what you're passionate about.

I don't tell you about my "conversation" with God in order to give you a template of some mystical "missionary call." My point is don't rule yourself out, just because you don't think you're anyone special like a-- oooh!-- a missionary! Just think about it. Pray about. Ask yourself: why not?

So back to dark and forsaken places. Why? Well, I guess, I figure that if I'm going to be a missionary because we desperately need reinforcements, I'm going to go where those reinforcements are needed most: the darkest places. Of course, that's pretty general, and I may start out in a less dark place (like China) just to get my bearings and some experience until a more specific burden takes shape.

All in His image.

at the Bookstore. 28 April, 2009.

The first lady pours her heart out to me. She's old and the doctor gives her no hope. Another doctor seeks to make her life better. He's a good physician. She's read a lot and thought a lot. She's lived a good life. She wears a cross from a necklace. Not afraid to share what she believes. Even to her class. But that was back when she was a high school English teacher. The world is different now. She's scared for her grandkids. "You have no idea what life used to be like in the world I grew up in . . . and that's too bad." She doesn't like our new President. Thinks he's doing a log of damage to our country. She's not afraid to say what she believes. "he stands on foreign soil and tells people that America is not a Christian nation anymore." And there is hurt and frustration apparent in her eyes, in her voice, "Now, tell me, why is that man our President?!" But she just saw her doctor today and just needed someone to talk to about it-- and life. So she thanks me for listening, and I thank her for sharing. She's inspired me tonight-- in some different way-- by her tenacity towards doing what she believes to be right and making a difference. For God. She's a Godsend. Another thank you and "have a good night!"

The second lady is with her husband. He's leaving, but she comes back to the counter. Gotta have that Tommy Tenney Journal. "I have observed something about you: you are a good listener." Ironically, I'm speechless. She elaborates. I thank her and try to praise God's grace. "Good night."

And I am alone again. No one to listen to. Only thoughts. But there's a little boy out in the mall. And he's helping his dad push his baby sister in the stroller. And there's the lady with her husband. Somewhere. And somewhere there's a lady dying with her diabetes. Somewhere there is a boy growing up with his baby sister. And she just wants someone to talk to. He just wants to be a grown-up big brother. She just wants to live. And we're all so different. Somewhere out there are a lot of different people. All made in HIS image.

The Hated.

Am I ready to be hated?

It's a question I've had to ask myself a lot the past year or so. I keep asking it to myself, because I can't seem to get a straight answer out of me. Oh, I'm sure I'm ready to die, even to be tortured by people of another religion and culture who probably barely speak English and view me as this dangerous criminal against communism or Islam or some tribe's voodoo-- something dramatic like that. But am I ready to be hated by my friends at work?

Am I ready to be hated by those I love? "hated"-- in a way-- or just not understood, scoffed at, not supported, disrespected. Am I ready to stand firm when other well-meaning believers try to convince me I'm being unwise, "not a good steward," or just plain too radical? Am I willing to love that recklessly?

Am I ready to be hated?

I don't really have anything to add to Jesus' words; just not sure i'm ready . . .

Mat 5:10-12 "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you."
Luk 6:22-23 "Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man! Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets.”

Mat 5:44 "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

Mat 10:16-25 "Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the Gentiles. . . . Brother will deliver brother over to death, and the father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death, and you will be hated by all for my name's sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved . . . A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household.

Joh 15:17-20 “These things I command you, so that you will love one another. If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: 'A servant is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.”

Rom 12:14 “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.”

2Tim 3:12 “Those who try to live a godly life because they believe in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.”

Hungry? What are you waiting for?

I know. The Snickers commercial says, "Hungry? Why wait?" not "What are you waiting for?" But that's just it. If you're just hungry for a chocolate bar, then really, "Why wait?" A chocolate bar. That's a desire easily enough satisfied. So why wait? But my question for you, for me, for all of us is "What are you waiting for?" Or, to put it in a way that's been on my heart a lot lately, "What are you hungry for?" I'll admit it. Food is a weakness of mine. I'm thankful that God has given me an Energizer metabolism so I can kinda get away with it, but I love to eat. Too much. I love to satisfy cravings of my taste buds even when I am full. My belly is so often my god. It's because my focus is so small, so earthly. C. S. Lewis' familiar words sum me up so well: "Our passions are not too strong, they are too weak. We are far too easily pleased." What am I hungry for? A Snickers bar? Is that it? A bowl of ice cream or cereal? An entertaining novel? A movie? A moment of mere sexual pleasure? Is that really all I want?

My flesh answers, "Sure--why not? What else is there?" There's a lot more! There is more to be desired always while we wander on this earth. The ice cream and sex and thrilling views in pictures and sunsets are merely tastes of a much bigger reward. They are not the end, but the means. Just glimpses--like movie trailers. They're not the feature presentation, the main event. But they do point us to the Main Event. That's why we don't just renounce earthly pleasures altogether. We seek to use them for their proper purposes; after all, they are means. See, we can indulge ourselves to the deepest in these pleasures that we find all around us, but like Solomon discovered, we'll find them to be "futile," unfulfilling. They'll only leave us wanting more and yet sick from the gross mass that we've already gluttonously injested. We'll always be wanting more.

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy," Lewis again reminds us, "the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." Or to put it like the Apostle Paul in Colossians 2, I was made for another Person: Jesus Christ, my God. In many places in Scripture the Lord's people are referred to as a wife or a bride. When Jesus was asked why His disciples did not fast, His response was to assure the questioner that they would fast "when the bridegroom is taken away from them."

Think about this: there are few days in a person's life so longed-for as his or her wedding day. I've heard many different stories of creative ways guys will work to save enough money for an engagement ring. And they'll work hard! Harder than for anything else. And when the engagement takes place, the couple begins counting down the days. Literally. You can ask almost any engaged couple, "Are you excited?" And they'll respond with a number of days. Suddenly these kids who can't make change without a computer on a cash register become genius calculators! And since when is a quantity of twenty-four hour spans a measurement for excitement? Since a bride-to-be sets her eyes on the happiest day of her life.

Being preoccupied with a day like your wedding day will change your life and make you do some very different things. But we are the Lord's bride to be! Are we preoccupied with this? Does it drive us to do crazy things like go without food so that we can tell Him how much we need Him and how desperately we long for Him to return? So often we live preoccupied with this dying, passing world and it's temporary pleasures. So often I forget that "I'm a refugee; this world is not my home." Or as another poet puts it, I am "created for a place I've never known."

So next time you think you might be hungry ask yourself, "What am I waiting for?" A Snickers bar? Or the happiest day of my life . . .

Prayer: For something Divine

"Well done, My good and faithful servant! . . . . When I was hungry you fed Me, when thirsty you gave Me to drink, when naked you clothed Me, when a stranger you welcomed Me, when in prison you visited Me . . ."

O Father, my God, my Savior, Redeemer, my Master, I long to hear these words from Your mouth! Beyond any man's approval, more than that of my best friend or Pastor or Mom and Dad or brother or any other man, I long to feel YOUR approval on a life well-lived for Christ!
But God, I fear that all of these things I do to befriend people who have few friends or no friends or to help out homeless and poor people will be burned up as NOTHING-- I fear that I myself will be nothing! Because all of my best deeds are ruined by my despicable pride! All of my most holy and loving desires are overwhelmed and inhibited by my fear!
Ah, God, save me from myself! Save the rest of this world-- my neighbors, my enemies, my friends-- from the ugly, destructive, lustful, prideful, fearful nature that rages inside of me! Save them from Seth Martin.
Love them, Jesus Christ! Kill me, and use this body, heart and mind as Your chosen instrument of grace and love! I beg You, humbled and needy! Do this in my heart-- I cannot do this myself. You've got to do this! . . .

and humble me still more . . .

A Pointless Birthday?

"Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing . . ."
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So what does Christmas mean to us? I mean, what's the point of it all? "That's easy: Jesus' Birth. Everyone knows, 'Jesus is the Reason for the season!' " Ok. But what does Jesus' birth mean for us? Why is it such a big deal that we have basically a whole month of shopping and decorating and playing special carols leading up to one day on the calendar? Why is this birth so worthy of hanging wreaths and red bows, decorating trees and making cookies, licking candy canes and giving gifts and having an international holiday?

It's not enough to just say, "Yay! Jesus was born!" Think about it, the Jews knew Jesus was born, and Herod tried to kill him; thirty years later the religious elite did the same thing. Problem is, the Jews missed it. They were looking for a political hero, a warrior messiah who would overthrow the Roman government and give the Jews political freedom from their slavish oppressors. But they were dreaming too small.

See, Jesus' kingdom is not of this world-- it's bigger (and better) than that. Jesus' kingdom can't be boxed up with easily manageable terms like political freedom and capitalsim and democracy. Jesus didn't come to overthrow tyrannical governments or to set up national democracies or to promise His followers political freedom-- otherwise His disciples would have taken up the sword against the godless and oppressive Roman Empire. No, Jesus came offering a freedom far greater and more glorious than any star-spangled banner or democratic republic or aircraft carrier could ever afford. Freedom from Adam's curse.

As angel choirs sang in the Second Adam's humble birth in Bethlehem, a bell tolled throughout the earth, the death-knell of sin and death itself. The curse would be reversed. Jesus' birth, 33-year life, and death and resurrection on our fallen sod was only the beginning. But it was the beginning. Not just a shadow of things to come, the coming of the Messiah was the actual Kingdom come . . . and still coming. It's a progressive regeneration and the Church is still being built and the Kingdom is still spreading like yeast through bread dough, like the invasive mustard tree-- a tiny, insignificant, despised seed irresistibly taking over a whole neighborhood, region, world. This is what the birth of Christ signaled. The death of death, good news for the poor, comfort for the mourning, the healing of broken hearts, the quenching of thirst, the sating of hunger, sight for the blind, dances for the crippled and lame, freedom for the captives and oppressed, love for enemies-- the forgiveness of sins and justification through grace-- LIFE for the dead, "that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified!" (Is. 61:3)This is why we celebrate Christmas. So if we really believe what we spend so much time saying we believe, let us celebrate "the year of the LORD's favor" with all our hearts!

"Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of GREAT JOY that will be for all the people . . ."

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!"
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Check out Isaiah 61:1-3 (cf. Luke 4:16-19). Jesus is reversing the curse. He tears out the roots of Adam's curse as He takes on the curse on the cross, and puts an end to death a few days later when we walks out of His grave-- death's sting-remover.

To Own a Kingdom

"Blessed are you poor for yours is the kingdom of God . . . But woe to you who are rich, for you are receiving your comfort in full." -- Jesus

How can the possession, ownership, rights to the kingdom of God be compared to or contrasted with receiving comfort in full? We know that rich people can enter into the kingdom, so what does it mean for the kingdom of God to be "yours?"

I think sometimes we think of the kingdom in too concrete or "boxed-in" terms. Jesus compared the kingdom to many very different things, events, actions, people and said that it is here, coming, in us and among us. How do you box that up? All this cannot be packaged into something so cut and dry as eternal salvation or "heaven." Yes, the kingdom is, in part, heaven, and it is salvation, but it is also so much more. Ushered in by grace and love and received by given faith, the Kingdom is a lifestyle of love, of faith, of good deeds, of striving to be perfectly holy like our Lord and Father--a radical new value system.

The kingdom of Heaven, of God, is here, now. It is today, this generation; the redeemed lifestyle of the redeemed, we live now with hope, and we LIVE! We live by faith with confident hope toward a future and perfect life that knows no death. The kingdom of God is a preview taste today of a beautiful life to be lived in full tomorrow. We all intuitively know that there is something better--heaven, a kingdom--in another life to come, but Jesus tells us, "Yeah, that's coming and it's gonna be great, but, I'm telling you, the Kingdom's already here! Don't wait to start living that life--I'm here with you now!" The true children of the kingdom--the sons and daughters of God, the royal priesthood--are to be the incarnation of that kingdom and its Savior LORD. One writer says, "Believers are a dime-a-dozen nowadays. What the world needs is people who believe so much in another world that they cannot help but begin enacting it now."

An integral part of that present kingdom living is poverty. The freedom to be poor even if you have the means to great wealth. God calls some Christians to high incomes. Is that wrong? No. But He calls all kingdom children to use their income (whether high or low) to give freely to those in need. It is the means to spread the kingdom further and deeper. When we cling to our worldly wealth or use it for our own self-absorbed enjoyment and pleasure we are "receiving [our] comfort in full." (remember what Jesus said?) Woe to us! Complete ownership or possession of this fluid, conceptual, yet real Kingdom is only fully realized by embracing what would be considered poverty by the world. The freedom to be poor allows us to grasp (or own) fully the power, the pleasure, the joy and the beauty of, the betterness of this Kingdom. Only when we have relinquished our grip on this world's mammon and passing pleasures, on our own pride and self-righteousness and embraced the richness of Christ's holiness and pro-active love, the freedom of poverty can we really own the kingdom. When we are the poor (in so many physical and spiritual ways) then the kingdom of God will be ours!

With ALL . . . (part 2)

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment."
--Jesus

[All means all, but how to live out such a radical command in a world that seems to demand that we "have" certain things in our lives?]

This will always be a struggle. This is something that I've struggled with and still do. It's too easy to sugar-coat and dilute and over-contextualize what Jesus clearly states in His teachings til we can say that this doesn't apply to me or that it meant something else or it's just . . . just . . . but Jesus WAS radical. We know how popular He was with great multitudes following Him everywhere, but there were also many more who like the Rich Young Ruler turned away from following Him, turned away from eternal life because He was a little too radical. Because He said stuff that went contrary to common sense and made demands that can only be made by a Master to His slaves as a King to His people. But the people that turned away weren't hung up on nuances and hyperbole and wondering if Jesus really meant everything He said. They understood Him. And they would not renounce all that they had. Intellectually. Materially. Familially. They turned away from Jesus. And crucified Him.

And it's a struggle for us. It's not a single battle, but a war with campaigns and many battles. But the glorious power of Jesus' grace promises that as we put on the armor and wade into battle day after day, fighting our hearts-- fears, lusts, idols, hate, and pride-- we will be more than conquerors THROUGH HIM! Like Cassie said (in our facebook discussion), we can't do this on our own. If we sound like a broken record, that's ok, because it's essential that the record break and repeat this part of the song . . . over and over and over, every day for the rest of our lives. Because this IS our life-- HE is our life! John 15:5-- "For without Me, you can do nothing."And that's the basis for living free from materialism and love for people and things and ideas that exists outside of a love for God. Because Christ is our life! Colossians 1:16 tells me that I have no reason for existing other than for Christ. And so if there is anything in my life that has a reason for existing outside of Christ then that thing must be "counted as loss."

We need to critically examine each thing in our lives. And where Christ is not pre-eminently dominating, where we cannot say "Christ is our LIFE," there must be radical change, surgical and revolutionary. I guess a good question to ask of everything and everyone in your life is, "Does this world or my heart demand that I have this in my life or has God sovereignly placed this in my life?" and then if it has been put into your hands by your God, ask, "Do I love and enjoy this person or thing apart from Christ? or in Him, through Him, because of Him, and FOR Him?"

Sometimes we'll have to get tough, sometimes we'll have to be creative. Often we'll need both. But through the pain (and there WILL be pain) we'll find in our Husband Christ a joy fulfilled and unspeakable. And can the passing pain compare to the indestructible joy? No, I promise you it cannot.