What Money can't buy: Check out new blog on CRC's Network

http://network.crcna.org/content/church-planting/what-money-cant-buy

Check out a new blog post at the CRC site: An Atheist's View of the Bible
http://network.crcna.org/content/church-planting/atheists-view-bible
http://network.crcna.org/content/church-planting/atheists-view-bible

Kingdom Fail II

The promise of the kingdom in Luke 1-3 is a kingdom of great hope where the rich and powerful are brought down and the poor and struggling are lifted up. The promise builds and builds and then it comes crashing down: John the Baptist, the great announcer of this kingdom, the harbinger of the kingdom is put in prison by Herod. The powerful take over the weak, hope is dashed (see blog post from March 14).

As soon as John is put in prison by Herod we hear these words in Luke 3, “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21–22 ESV) The line about Jesus being God’s beloved Son comes from Isaiah 42, “Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his law.” (Is 42:1–4 ESV) 

Jesus begins his ministry with the same powerful promise we have been hearing: justice will come, it will be established, and God’s law (Torah) or way of right living will be brought to the coastlands (coastlands is a way of speaking of the remotest corners of the earth). Again, the promise of the first three chapters is raised, but with a difference. For all who thought that Jesus was going to be a Herod or a Cyrus or take on the ways of a Roman Emperor, Isaiah smashes that idea. Jesus is the suffering servant. He comes not to imprison like Herod, but to set people free. He comes not to crush the weak, like Herod and a hundred other despots down through the ages, but to bring sight to the blind, to bring the year of the Lord’s favor. And by the way, he does this for the nations, not just Israel.  God’s law, his Torah will be not just for Israel but for all.

In a powerful contrast as Jesus’ ministry begins all those who believed that the Messiah was there to raise an army to defeat the enemies of Israel, all those who believed that the Messiah would crush like a Herod, find that their hopes are turned on their head. Jesus comes in a different way, his agenda is still justice, but that justice (don’t be fooled, this is not just individual salvation, this is justice to the nations) will be accomplished in a way different than Israel thought.  It will be accomplished first of all by taking on Satan in the verses that follow.

But there is another piece to this, namely, how many of us find ourselves right where the people of Israel were as Jesus entered the world? We expect Jesus to come and crush as he shows himself for the second time. Is it possible that we are mistaken as they were in our understanding of New Testament language as they were by the language of the Old Testament? If we are wrong what would his second coming look like?

And one more thing: do we let our understanding of his second coming impact our way of seeing the world right now? Do we imagine that the world is a battlefield because that’s how we see things in apocalyptic literature? Could it be that if we saw the startling contrast that Luke makes between Jesus and Herod that we would see not a battlefield but a mission field? A mission field where people long to be set free from their prisons, where people long for God’s jubilee?

Kingdom Fail

The opening of the book of Luke is filled with hope and lofty speeches and songs. Underlying it all is the promise of God's kingdom where the rich and powerful are put in their place, the poor and weak are lifted up and all is made right. It is pretty heady stuff. 

As John the Baptist comes on the scene Luke uses words not from one passage in Isaiah, but multiple passages that all ring with future hope for God's people, "As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet, “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. (Isaiah 40.3-5) Every valley shall be filled,(Isaiah 57.14) and every mountain and hill shall be made low, (Isa. 49.11) and the crooked shall become straight, (Isa. 42.16 & 45.2) and the rough places shall become level ways, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.(Isa. 52.10) ’” (Luke 3:4–6 ESV. All of these passage connect with the return of Israel to the promised land, of a life where, in biblical language, every person lives under his/her vine and fig tree. Which is a way of saying that you live in great community enjoying the multiple gifts of God and in particular, God himself.
The future is filled with hope. The people are streaming out to be baptized by John to become part of this great kingdom of God movement. And then suddenly, without warning all the forward movement grinds to a halt, "So with many other exhortations he preached good news to the people. But Herod the tetrarch, who had been reproved by him for Herodias, his brother’s wife, and for all the evil things that Herod had done, added this to them all, that he locked up John in prison. (Luke 3:18–20 ESV)"

So here is the huge irony. The declarations have been of the coming kingdom, the declarations have been of the mighty being brought down--yet the man who declares the kingdom and baptizes and calls people to the new way of life, who some believe is the Messiah is put in prison by the one in power. Where can this story possibly be going….

We know the answer to that...it is heading toward the coming of Jesus, but even with his coming we find those in power hang him from a cross like a lamb in butcher's shop on a darkened Friday afternoon (in the colorful picture of Neil Plantinga). Those in power are not beaten down, they exert their power and both John and Jesus die.

It feels like a kingdom fail. Of course this is heading for the resurrection of Jesus. Still, what of all those great promises? What of the promise of this kingdom? One Jewish scholar whose name I can't recall says he actually believes in the resurrection of Jesus but doesn't believe he is Messiah because the kingdom didn't come in the way the Jewish people believed it would.

All of this to say that what must have felt like a kingdom fail to

John the Baptist, to the disciples of Jesus as he hung on the cross, that feeling of kingdom fail is something we all experience regularly. And it is something that as church planters, pastor's of established churches and members of a congregation that we have to deal with when people wonder about faith, about God, and about whether he is really active in the world. 

It seems to me that we have to acknowledge this sense of kingdom fail. We have to own the reality that at times it is hard to see the kingdom, that we grieve over places where it seems the kingdom has made no impact. We should not short-change how so often it looks like "kingdom fail". We need to wisely, honestly work with those who struggle with "kingdom fail." (Actually Jesus will do this with John the Baptist. As John is sitting in prison his question to Jesus is basically, "What is going on, this is a kingdom fail, get me out of this prison." Jesus' answer from Isaiah is that the time has not come for the kind of kingdom John is looking for, there must be grace first, then there will be judgment.)

At the same time when the question becomes--especially for us when we deal with "kingdom fail"--"Where can this story possibly be going?" The answer we remind ourselves of is, "Finally the kingdom will come in all of its fullness: when we and all of creation will be redeemed, liberated, and made new." And when we wonder about, when others wonder about the reality of that vision our eyes look back to a God who sent his son into the world, to an empty tomb, to a resurrected and ascended Lord, and to the words of Paul, What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Rom 8:31–32 ESV)

Telling the Story?

The gospel of Luke has always drawn my attention. Perhaps it stems from the 

radical edge of the gospel from Jesus' proclamation in Luke 4 of the "year of the Lord's favor" to his positive treatment of women to his concern for the poor. Yesterday I decided to start again on Luke's gospel taking time to read and study it closely. In the first few chapters there is the wonderful unfolding of the story--rich with hope and wonder. But I also noticed something else that I want to keep my eye on as I continue, namely, the story is never kept quiet, it is always shared with others. The angel appearing to Zechariah is told to the crowd outside. The birth of John the Baptist leads to the telling of the story in the hill country of Judea. The birth of Christ is proclaimed by the angels to the shepherds and the shepherds to people they come into contact with. In these opening acts of the story, the story is contagious, people have to tell others what they have seen and heard. 

The opening of Luke is a stealth call to share the story. A stealth call that becomes a clear call in Acts 1. "So when they had come together, they asked him, 'Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” (Acts 1:6–8 ESV)

All of this reminds me of something far back in history, back to one of the early acts in God's story. From the beginning of God's story there is the call to be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. This command is given first to Adam and Eve and then to Noah. Noah and his descendants are doing a pretty good job of this as we read in Genesis 10, but in Genesis 11 they stop spreading and decide to build a tower (ziggurat) and take control of their own destiny, making God their servant. Rather than allowing them to stop their spread through the earth God comes and confuses their language and compels them to follow his command.

Here's my connection: in Acts 1.8 the call is to be witnesses. While this is Christ's command, the church seems slow in doing it--unlike the eager tellers in Luke's gospel. They keep themselves centered around Jerusalem. It takes the death of Stephen and the outbreak of persecution to get them to move into the world. (Acts 8.1 "And there arose on that day a great persecution against the church in Jerusalem, and they were all scattered throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles.") Is it possible that there is a dual connection here? The first connection is that fill the earth is now includes the command to make disciples of all nations. The second connection is that when we refuse to get out and bring the gospel that God finds ways to compel us to do so.

So here is a question: Are we telling the story or do you see God finding ways to compel us to tell the story?

In these bodies we will live

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die, where you invest your love, you invest your life.

  Words from Mumford and Sons that call us to think about what we are investing our lives in. As Jesus begins his ministry he makes it clear what he will invest his life in, "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. And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written, “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, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:16–19 ESV) It is a startling word to the people of Nazareth for it takes their hopes and in so many ways stomps on them--but more on that in the days to come. 

 For today, simply this, we need to decide where we will invest our lives and how we wil pursue that investment. That's what we are going to explore from many different angles in my new blog as part of the Church Planting and Development Leadership Team (Christian Reformed Home MIssions.) We will dive into the theological, the Biblical, the pragmatic, and more as we seek to invest our lives in what pleases God.

 CPDLT is investing in building a learning community--a community of new churches and existing churches--that together catalyze and cultivate gospel movements as they transform lives and communities.  We like to think that the idea of transforming lives and communities is what Jesus was talking about in that inaugural message in Nazareth--and we guess that, if like Jesus, this is what we do we too will find ourselves on the edge of a cliff or two (Luke 4.28-29).

  For now, my getting dusty blog will come back to life along with the CPDLT one.  There will be overlap but hopefully this will helpful to all who enjoy being on God's mission.

Ora et Labora

There is a saying that floats around the Christian community that deals with work and prayer. The saying is “When we work, we work; When we pray, God works”. I’ve been thinking about this statement the last couple of weeks for a number of reasons including the hit that North American churches often take for not being prayerful enough or as someone somewhere said, “It’s amazing what American churches can get done without prayer” (this was not said positively).
So is it true that when we work, we work, but when we pray God works? As far as I can tell this statement is based on faulty theology and faulty piety. The idea that when we work, we work misses completely the truth of the scriptures that when we work it is God who at work through us. Jesus makes this clear in John 15.“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2 He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. 3 You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4 Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. 5 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” Paul makes this clear in 1 Corinthians 12, Romans 12, and Ephesians 4 when he speaks of our being given gifts by the Spirit to carry out the work of God in the world. Romans 10 speaks of the powerful way that God works through people when it insists, “11 As the Scripture says, “Anyone who trusts in him will never be put to shame.” 12 For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, 13 for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” 14 How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? 15 And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”
God works through us to bring his message to the world, to renew communities in ways that reflect his coming kingdom, and so much more.
Now some may argue that we go off in our own power to do these things, while in prayer we rely on the power of God to do things. It is true we can go off trying to do things in our own power, but Jesus tells us that these things will not bear fruit. Our fruit comes from our connection to God. In another sense we could say something similar about prayer. Our prayers can be just as insincere and focused on accomplishing our goals rather than God’s goals as when we try to get things done on our own.
There is also in the “when we work, we work; when we pray God works” idea a faulty piety. It holds that a truly pious person prays, while the less pious person just works. But no where that I can think of do we find that prayer is held up as a more spiritual position and action than working for the kingdom. Indeed, when one reflects on the life of a pious person a picture of work is often at the forefront. From the “Noble Woman” of Proverbs 31 to the call to “Do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God” to Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 2.9-10, “...likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works...”, we find that a pious person works.
Certainly prayer and piety go together, prayer and godliness go together, but more importantly prayer and work go together. The Latin phrase has it right “Ora et Labora”, pray and work. The two are a package and through them God does his work in the world. To lift prayer (or work) above the other truncates God’s desire for a full-orbed life.