Do Muslims and Christians Worship the Same God?

This seems to be a “hot button” topic these days.  Some prominent Christian leaders have weighed in.

At the very real risk of over simplifying the issue, may I point out something that seems pretty obvious to me?  As monotheists we believe in one God.  That means that there is only one God to worship.  There is no competition between rival deities.  There is only confusion among worshipers.

As Christians we believe that the ultimate revelation of the one true God is found in Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.  Jesus is the Word made flesh (John 1).  Jesus is the Word of God.  "Jesus is what God has to say." (Brian Zahnd) 

Tragically, some Muslims are far from the God revealed in Jesus Christ.  They resort to violence, intimidation, fear and hatred to further their cause.  Tragically, some who use the name “Christian” are very far from the God revealed in Jesus Christ.  They resort to violence, intimidation, fear and hatred to further their cause.    

Neither of these groups are worshiping the one true God revealed in Jesus.  Ironically, both groups are worshiping the same false god, the god of violence, intimidation, fear and hatred.

Some Muslims seem very close to the God revealed in Jesus Christ; like the Kenyan Muslims who protected a group of Christians from Islamist militants.  And some Christians seem very close to the God revealed in Jesus Christ; like the ones responding to Ed Stetzer's call to love and care for refugees.  Sadly, some still miss the heart of Jesus.

The gospel writer Mark records a conversation that Jesus had with a very religious man.  He agreed with Jesus’ teaching that the greatest commandment is to love God and neighbor.  Then Jesus said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”  (See Mark 12:28-34) 

Perhaps Jesus would say the same thing to the Kenyan Muslims.  And perhaps he would say the same thing to some Christians.  This Christmas may we all move closer to the heart of Jesus.  

 

One Pastor’s perspective on Refugees and Risk

Most of us agree that following Jesus is risky business.  But how much risk is reasonable? 

Right now devout followers of Jesus in our nation find themselves on both sides of the current refugee crisis.  Some believe we should freely open our borders to the seemingly endless flow of humanity streaming out of Syria.  Some have advocated restricting that flow or cutting it off altogether.

The arguments for the later are convincing.  What about our responsibility to protect our own citizens?  What about the very real possibility that terrorists will slip in undetected?  Is it not irresponsible, even immoral, to jeopardize the safety of our own children?

Of course the recent tragedy in France proves that those arguments are not without merit.

Personally, I want to come down on the side of self-defense.  There’s a part of me, a really big part, that says, Close the borders!  Build walls!  Erect razer fencing! Station armed guards at every entry point! Low risk seems reasonable to me.         

But as a person trying to follow Jesus I have a couple problems... 

1.      One problem is Church History

Rodney Stark, a noted historian, points out that the outbreak of epidemics was not uncommon in the ancient Roman world.  In overcrowded cities, lack of sanitation and limited medical expertise rendered ancient people defenseless against the invading diseases.  In an effort to reduce the risk of infection, many abandoned their infected family members in the streets. 

During the second great epidemic, around 260, Christians responded differently.  Instead of discarding loved ones in the streets, they rescued those discarded by others.  Stark quotes an Easter letter written by Dionysius, the Bishop of Alexandria.

Most of our brother Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another.  Heedless of danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy; for they were infected by others with the disease, drawing on themselves the sickness of their neighbors and cheerfully accepting their pains.  Many, in nursing and curing others, transferred their death to themselves and died in their stead.  (Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity, page 82.)

Because of their faith in Christ and commitment to his teaching, these Christians put themselves at great risk and apparently thought it reasonable to do so.

Some may deem this example invalid.  After all, ministering to sick people in your own city is not the same as opening your city (or state or country) to outsiders who may intend to do you harm.

Maybe a closer correlation would be the Christians, like Corrie Ten Boom and her family, who hid Jews from the Nazis prior to and during WWII.  The risks they took were multiple.  Among those were the real possibility that Nazi sympathizers would pose as Jewish refugees seeking sanctuary.  Every time the Ten Boom family opened their doors to a Jew they were risking their own lives.  Of course, for the Ten Boom family, that risk became reality.  Their hiding place was discovered.  They were arrested and placed in German prison camps.  All but Corrie died in those camps because being followers of Christ compelled them to take risks, very great risks.

2.      The other problem is Jesus

I think it is safe to say that Jesus was a risk taker and he taught his disciples that following him involved risk.  Actually, maybe “risk” is not the best word.  Jesus taught that following him would result in certain suffering. 

Repeatedly he told his disciples that they would be taking up their own crosses if they followed him.  In other words, following Jesus requires a willingness to die.

The apostle Peter who, according to tradition, was himself crucified upside down wrote, “if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.  (1 Peter 2:20-21)

In our modern western world we think that risk should be eliminated.  But we must remember that following Jesus is inherently risky. 

I want to keep my family safe.  Low risk sounds good to me.  But the teachings and example of Jesus Christ compel us to risk everything to do the right thing.  Making room for refugees who need a safe place to live is the right thing.  Is it risky to open our doors to these neighbors?  Yes, it is.  But for Christ followers, it is right to take the risk.   

 

Is the Confederate Flag a Convenient Scapegoat?

Perhaps the confederate flag should be removed from the grounds of the State Capital in South Carolina.  I think it probably should be taken down, but I make that statement with some hesitation.  For one thing, I’m afraid that many of you will stop reading after that sentence.  For another I don’t think that removing the flag will actually decrease our racism or the violence that all too often rises up out of it. 

The ancient Israelites practiced an annual ritual on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.  The high priest would place his hands on the head of a goat, symbolically transferring the sins of all the people onto the animal.  The goat would then be led into the wilderness and released.  It’s where we get our term “scapegoat.”    

I wonder if we’re using the Confederate Flag as a type of scapegoat. 

Think about it.  This whole flag thing seems to have taken on a life of its own.  It seems to me that the nine innocent people who lost their lives have taken a back seat to conversations about the flag.  It seems like a piece of cloth has somehow been animated by our anger, given life by the sins we heap on it.  Now it can be safely lead away into the wilderness.  

Those of us on Facebook and Twitter campaigning to take it down, and those of us campaigning to leave it up, both seem to gain the same benefit.  If I’m focused on the flag I don’t have to look into my own heart.

You see, if I’m really honest I have to admit that my real problem is not the thing attached to a flag pole.  My real problem is the thing living in my heart. 

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn famously said, “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, not between classes, nor between political parties, but through every human heart.”

The truth is I can’t get rid of my sin of racism by placing it on the Confederate Flag.  

But if I can turn my attention (and the attention of others) to a debate about a flag, then maybe I won’t have to face the contents of my own heart.  I won’t have to face the fact that I don’t have any really close friends of a different ethnicity than my own.  I won’t have to confront the feelings of condescension that sometimes well up in my heart standing in the grocery store checkout line.  I won’t have to face the loathing in my heart when the crime was committed by a person of a different race.  I don’t have to extract the two by four from my own eye because I’m so preoccupied with the splinter in the eye of the other guy.  I can complain about the racist living across the street instead of confronting the racist living in my house.  

According to the scriptures, Jesus Christ became the scapegoat for every human being, including every racist of every race.  Followers of Jesus believe that we can be honest with ourselves about the sin that resides in our own hearts because Jesus has already absorbed it into his being and exhausted it of its power.  We can step into the shame we all share because Jesus has borne our shame.  We can share one another’s sorrows because Jesus has shared all our sorrows.  We can forgive each other because he has forgiven us.   We don’t have to find any other scapegoats.  

Failure is a Good Thing

Learning to walk is no small feat (no pun intended).  Think about it.  A human being transitions from all fours to just two, from relative safety to present danger.  The danger, of course, is falling… repeatedly.  Ironically, it is the key step (again with the unintentional puns) in the process.  It is a process that requires purposeful, recurring failure.

Watch a baby as she learns to walk.  At some point she stands.  She enters into the tension between safety and mobility.  She stands without the benefit of certainty.  She’s not sure she can do it and, in fact, she can’t.  She falls.  She fails.  And then she does it again… and again… and again.  She is, by definition, a failure.  And she is happy!  Not only has she not yet learned to walk, she hasn’t learned that failure is a bad thing!   

On top of that, her parents encourage her to fail again.  Even though she can’t walk, even when she realizes (especially when she realizes) she can’t walk, they encourage her to do it again anyway.  They are literally setting (standing) her up to fail… again… and again. 

What kind of parents would do that?  The answer, of course, is good parents.  Good parents do precisely that!

Is God a good parent?  I wonder if it would be okay to think about Christian discipleship the way we think about learning to walk.  Could we not describe learning to follow Jesus as purposeful, recurring failure?

You may recall the story about how an early follower of Jesus named Peter requested permission to walk on the water, which Jesus immediately granted.  Peter got out of the boat and stood on the water, then he walked, then he failed… he sank!  What was Peter (and for that matter Jesus) thinking!  And Peter would fail again…and again.  But despite his recurring failures (and maybe because of his recurring failures) Peter turned out okay.  

We preacher types seem to be less comfortable with failure than God is.  I’m not saying that sin (mine or yours) is a good thing, it’s not.  What I am saying is that the only people who never fall are the ones who never learn to walk.  I’m saying that failure avoidance is failure already!  I’m saying that failure is a good thing because it is, ironically, essential to success!  

That new thing you feel God actually wants you to do…do it!  Going back to school, a career change, a new hobby, a new ministry… get up on your two feet and walk!  Will you fall?  Absolutely!  Will you fail?  Most assuredly!  Should you do it anyway?  Definitely!  Don’t miss out on a good thing!

Face Book vs Porch Swings

I like face book.  It is a window into my past.  It keeps me connected to old friends, new friends and friends I don’t even know.  It educates and entertains.  It has lots of funny video clips.  (Did you see the one with the guy dancing to Uptown Funk on the tread mill?)  I really like face book.  That’s why I had to give it up… sort of.

I mean, I haven’t really, totally stopped getting on face book (I’ll post this blog on it), but I’ve been forced to rethink my unconditional commitment to it.  It’s not that Satan used face book to invade my body (I don’t think).  But I found myself somewhat unsatisfied after spending an extended period on it.  It’s hard to explain.

My gut feelings were confirmed while sitting on the porch swing.  My wife, Cindy, and I decided to take advantage of the burst of warmth that happened one day last week.  We went out on our back porch, sat down on the porch swing and talked.  A novel idea!  We talked about nothing in particular for no particular reason.  We just talked and swung in the porch swing.  (Right now I have the overwhelming urge to write a couple verses of Swingin, the country classic by John Anderson, but I’ll resist.)

The point I’m trying to make is this.  When we were done talking about nothing in particular for no particular reason I felt full and good.  When I realize that I’ve given up thirty or forty-five minutes of my life on face book I don’t feel full and good.  Sometimes I feel a little bit empty.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I’m not saying we should all quit face book (although most young people have already moved on to Twitter and Instagram), I’m just saying that maybe the next time you have a choice between an hour sitting in a porch swing talking to a real person (or a good dog), especially one you love, or an hour on face book looking at videos posted by people you don’t even know, you may want to give the porch swing a try.

    

Why are Young Adults Leaving the Church? Part II

A couple weeks ago I posted a blog pointing out two reasons why young adults are leaving the church.  Here’s the second part to that post with reasons three and four.  I’ll try to stop after this post although more reasons could probably be listed.  You may want to share some of your own.

3.  The church typically functions as a “religious service provider” trying to attract and keep “customers.”

John Ortberg was the first person I heard use the term “religious service provider.”  It succinctly describes what may be the single most off-putting characteristic of the church, at least for young adults.

In the post WWII era, churches learned to tap into (or maybe give into) the hyper-consumerism of our culture.  By using marketing strategies to make the church more “appealing” to un-churched people, we have taught church members to function like customers. 

I realize that statement sounds harsh.  You may think it is inaccurate.  I would respectfully respond by asking you to reflect intently on statements that I hear from church attendees on a regular basis.  I don’t like that music.  I got a lot out of that worship service. The programs at that church were not meeting my needs.  We’re going to try out another church.

 

While many may feel that these statements are a “natural” part of church culture, most young adults I know are reacting negatively to this kind of religious consumerism.  Frankly, as a pastor who feels the pressure of producing “better products,” I’m glad they are.    

Striving for excellence in our service to God is healthy.  Striving to please church customers is unhealthy.  Churches who really want to minister to young adults (and everyone else for that matter), must muster the courage to defect from the “religious service provider” model. 

4.  The church seems to be compelled to distinguish ourselves by pointing out the sin of those outside the church instead of our own.      

Most of the young adults I know frequently call attention to Jesus’ teaching against judging others.  They are drawn to his words in the Sermon on the Mount when he admonished the crowd to take the log out of their own eye before they attempted to take the speck of sawdust out of someone else’s.  (Matthew 7:1-5)

In his book, Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller tells a story from his years as a student at Reed College in Portland.  Along with some other Christian students (definitely the minority at Reed) they set up a confession booth on campus during a Renaissance festival.  But instead of hearing the confessions of the students, they confessed to the students all the sins of the church down through the ages.  The students were shocked that Christians would confess to them.  They were also disarmed by it.  Some became open to conversations about Christianity.

I tell that story, not just to illustrate the fact that young adults outside the church have come to expect those inside the church to be judgmental, but to point out that a little honesty and a little humility can have a big impact.  To misquote a familiar passage from 2 Chronicles 7:14, If we (the church) will humble ourselves and confess our sins, then young adults will hear and respond.    

What would happen if the church became known, not by our tendency to call out the sins of others but by our willingness to confess our own?  If we hope to minister to young adults in a meaningful way we need to place a high priority on extracting the beams from our own eyes.   

To reiterate what I said in the first blog, I love the church deeply.  I am not an outside critic trying to tear the church down.  I’m a member of the family attempting to initiate conversations (sometimes hard conversations) that will facilitate healing. 

As I write this blog the church I’m privileged to pastor is conducting a dental clinic, providing free dental care for those in our community.  Right now people are shopping in our clothing closet for free clothes.  I’m grateful to be part of a wonderful family of Jesus followers who are living out their faith in such beautifully redemptive ways.

I’m also committed to helping the church (particularly the church in our part of the world) become more beautiful and more redemptive.  I’m happy to hear from others who would like to participate in the conversation.  

Why are Young Adults Leaving the Church?

Every pastor in the Northern Hemisphere knows that young adults are leaving the church in record numbers.  I’m not saying that to scare you.  I’m just pointing out the fact so that I can point to the reasons why, in my opinion, it’s happening.  I’ll only share two here.  

1.  The church tends to make faith in Jesus a mental exercise rather than a spiritual experience.

Most young adults I know have a deep respect for the scriptures, are orthodox in their beliefs and serious about doing theology.  But they know that faith is trusting in someone, not believing some things.  Most of the young adults I know are drawn to Jesus, sometimes almost irresistibly so.  But they insist that faith in him is about more, much more, than our attempts to explain him.

Intuitively, young adults know that faith in Jesus is deeper than being convinced that what the church teaches about Jesus is empirically true.  In fact, some young Christians I know have huge doubts about some of those teachings.  And yet, they love Jesus and are fully devoted to following him.

If we want to connect with young adults, the church must become a safe place for them to question and doubt and live out a messy faith.  We must give them permission to believe in their hearts that God raised Jesus from the dead (Romans 10:9), even while they struggle to reconcile that belief in their heads.  I think if we’re really honest, we’re all living out a messy faith.  Young adults are just not afraid to admit it.

2.  The church proclaims Jesus as the divine Son of God, yet often neglects his most basic teachings.  

Young adults are drawn to the church’s insistence that Jesus is the way, yet pushed away by what they perceive to be the church’s weak commitment to follow the way of Jesus.

Some of the core teachings of Jesus, such as caring for the poor and oppressed, love for our enemies, refusal to retaliate against those who harm us and extreme generosity seem to be watered down, casually dismissed or actively opposed by the church. 

Many young Christians I know point out that the modern evangelical church seems to chase after riches more than giving them away.  They are bewildered by the church’s endorsement of military campaigns.  And they don’t understand how we can say we love our neighbors but insist that they stay on their side of the border.    

This is not just empty rhetoric.  Many young Christians are embracing a different way, what they would describe as the way of Jesus.  And they wonder why they do it in the face of opposition from the Christian church.  Some choose to leave, not because they are giving up on the church, but to embrace it more fully in a friendlier context.

If the church is going to give these Christians a home, we will need to rethink our understanding of Jesus and repent of the ways we have failed to take his teachings seriously. 

In naming these two reasons I’m not taking pot shots at the church.  I’m a pastor who loves the church deeply.   I’m committed to being part of the church in my community.  I’m quite hopeful that the church is making great progress toward becoming a more beautiful bride of Christ in our world.  I’m convinced that young adults need the church.  That’s why I’m praying that the church becomes the kind of place where they feel safe and free to live out their faith.  I’m praying that prayer not only because they need us, but because we need them.  They have much to teach us. 

Laser Tag and Spirituality

Tomorrow I’ll take my three grandsons to play laser tag…

I’ve been told I enjoy doing things like playing laser tag and Marco polo.  And I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy doing these kinds of activities, it’s just that I know myself well enough to know that I won’t actually realize that I enjoyed doing them until sometime after I’ve done them.

Somehow in the afterglow of a rousing game of “wrestle Pa Pa to the floor and tickle him till he can’t breathe,” it dawns on me; hey, that was a lot of fun!  I feel better now!

It’s a little bit hard to explain (or for that matter understand) but an activity that doesn’t appeal to any of my senses and doesn’t feel like fun somehow becomes fun afterward…typically after I take a nap.

You may be able to relate to the phenomenon I’m trying to describe.  You engage in some activity that possesses virtually no energetic appeal during the course of the event but then, inexplicably, sometime later (depending on how soon you get to take the nap) you say to yourself, that was really fun, and mean it.

And it’s not just physically demanding activities you do with your children or grandchildren.  It works for things like lifting weights or going to a museum.

I’m thinking there might be a lesson about spirituality here…

What if healthy spirituality (specifically, Christian spirituality) works like playing laser tag with my grandsons or spending thirty minutes on an elliptical machine or reading poetry?  What if, sometime after engaging in a spiritual discipline (sometimes quite a while afterwards) you say to yourself, hey that was good for me.  I can feel it!

The ancient tradition of practicing spiritual disciplines is based on this idea.  The church fathers and mothers, including people like Augustine, St. Francis and Teresa of Avila understood and taught that practicing spiritual disciplines has this same kind of after effect.  (For a good list and explanation of spiritual disciplines read Richard Foster’s classic work, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth.)

As we begin a new year you may want to seriously give this some thought.  A tool that I have found helpful is The Daily Office (“office” comes from the Latin “officium,” meaning “duty, service or function.”)  The Daily Office is a prescribed set of scripture readings and written prayers that you simply incorporate into your daily routine, kind of like exercise.

The process of practicing The Daily Office may not be thrilling.  It may even be boring.   But over time you find yourself saying hey, this is good for me.  I can feel it!