The Gospel

Note: I owe a great debt to Brad Jersak and his book “Her Gates Will Never Be Shut: Hope, Hell and the New Jerusalem,” for thoughts shared in this article. I highly recommend the book.

The gospel I learned as a little boy went something like this. God loves you. And God wants you to go to heaven when you die (or when Jesus comes again). But God is also just. God always does the right thing. And since you are a sinner, the right thing for God to do is punish you by sending you to hell forever. (You can only imagine how my five-year-old brain processed this information!) To solve this dilemma, God sent his Son Jesus to die on the cross in your place. When Jesus died in your place, God put all your sin on Jesus, poured out all his wrath on Jesus and turned his back on Jesus. That way, God could be just and punish someone for your sin without actually punishing you. Now, if you will just believe this “good news” you can go to heaven when you die.  

And I did believe it. In fact, I jumped at the chance to believe it! I said the “sinner’s prayer” so fast it would make your head swim. Nobody had to ask me twice. This gospel served me well for a while. But the more I learned about God, the more I struggled with this version of the “good news.” 

I don’t exactly believe that version of the gospel anymore. Here’s what I do believe. God created human beings in his image and God loves us. God wants to live in perfect harmony (shalom) with us. But human beings consistently sin, and we turn our backs on God. So, God comes to us. Miraculously, God came to us as a baby born to a virgin girl named Mary. And when we turned our backs on God, he kept turning toward us. 

A woman who was caught in the act of adultery was brought to God by men who said she should be stoned to death. Then God looked at the woman’s accusers and said, “whoever is without sin cast the first stone.” The men dropped their stones and, beginning with the oldest, they all walked away. Then God looked at the woman and said, “I do not condemn you. Go and leave your life of sin.” 

A man was under the control of the dark forces of Satan. He suffered in a hellish existence. He was completely possessed by his demons. He lived in the graveyard. He was naked and he cut himself with stones. But then God sailed across the sea of Galilee to meet this demon possessed man. And God set the man free from his demons. And then the man found himself sitting at the feet of God, fully clothed and in his right mind. 

In the Gospels (the books that record the biography of Jesus) there are many stories like these. 

Finally, when humanity was completely lost in the hell of our hate and fully surrendered to our sinfulness, we nailed God to a cross. But what did God do? God the Son prayed to God the Father and said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” And, of course, God did. 

That’s the gospel I believe. And that’s the gospel I invite others to believe. Is it possible to reject this gospel? Yes, I think so. I think people do reject it. Some reject it because they can’t bring themselves to believe in a God that doesn’t require us to do anything to earn his love. So, we create methods by which we save ourselves, like praying a special prayer or believing a certain set of doctrinal statements. But when all is said and done, God just keeps coming to us, turning toward us even when we’ve turned away from God, and inviting us to believe that we’re already forgiven. 

I believe that is the gospel…the good news.

 

Picture from ABC News

Overturning Roe v Wade 

Many churches around the country are rejoicing over the reversal of Roe v Wade in triumphal celebration.  But is it really a triumph?  I’m not so sure.     

(Before you start posting comments about my left leaning ways, please read to the end.  Then you can post away.)

I consider myself pro-life.  I’m for the lives of unborn babies and I’m for the lives of their desperate mothers.  And just to be clear, I believe the reversal of Roe v Wade was the right decision.  Mothers should give birth to their babies.  Jesus said, “love your neighbor as yourself.”  And a fetus is about as close a neighbor as you can get. 

But I have a pastoral question.  Why was the church unable to end the demand for abortion simply by doing what we were commissioned to do? 

The last thing Jesus said to us before his ascension was not, Go and get in bed with the empires of this world so that you can use their power to accomplish my goals.

Jesus said, Go and make disciples of all nations, baptize them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and teach them to obey everything that I have commanded.  Jesus said that his disciples are to make other disciples.  Those who follow Jesus, those who hear his words and obey them, are to invite others to follow Jesus, to hear his words and obey them.

History teaches us that when the church does what Jesus said to do, the church is truly influential in our world.  We make a real difference in the world when we are making disciples.  We exercise real power when we teach people, mostly by example, to obey Jesus.  It’s that simple.

So, why is the church more dependent on Supreme Court legislation than Jesus’ Great Commission?  Why doesn’t the church just make disciples who will do the right thing?  Because, in my opinion, the modern church is not very good at making disciples.  That’s the hard truth. 

And here’s an even harder truth.  The church is not very good at making disciples of Jesus because the church is not very good at being disciples of Jesus.  We are not good at leading people to follow Jesus because we are not good at following Jesus. 

For example, we tell mothers they should love their babies and give them life, but the church has a long track record of failing to love our enemies (as Jesus taught) and giving them life.  We have endorsed and supported our government when it goes to war with our neighbors and kills innocent mothers and children. Can you see how our “opponents” might not be convinced by our pro-life rhetoric?

From the genocide of native Americans to the war in Iraq, the official representatives of the church have endorsed (sometimes even participated in) the systematic extermination of human life.  Maybe instead of taking a victory lap, we should run to the altar to repent of our complicity in these evils. 

More repenting, less rejoicing!  More confessing and less celebrating!  More humility, less hubris!

I’m not saying that Roe v Wade should not have been reversed.  I’m saying that we shouldn’t gloat over it.  I’m saying that the church has once again carefully navigated around the beam that is in our own eye, relentlessly pawing at the speck that is in our brother’s (or sister’s) eye, failing to realize that we’re both still blind.

 

Confessing Our Faith

A friend of mine once said, Rob, I can’t recite the Apostle’s Creed because I can’t honestly say that I believe it.

That piqued my curiosity, so I said, Tell me more.

Well, he said, I want to be able to recite all the statements in the creed with integrity.  I’m really drawn to the Christian faith.  I think the teachings of Christ are beautiful.  I’m captivated by the possibility that Jesus actually is the Son of God.  But I have doubts…really big ones!

Perhaps you can relate to my friend, or you have a friend that can relate to my friend.  You, and/or your friend, have doubts…really big ones! 

Here’s what I said to my doubtful friend.  I hope it helps you…and/or your friend.

I don’t think we are required to believe without doubts.  Doubts are a natural part of belief.  Jesus once asked a man if he believed, to which the man replied, I believe, help my unbelief!

So, when we confess our faith, we always confess more than we understand, and sometimes we confess more than we believe, at least in that moment.  Belief and unbelief can co-exist.  

Let me say it this way.  A confession of faith is not a confession of certainty.  Let me say it another way.  If I don’t have any doubts, then I really don’t need faith.  As the writer of the book of Hebrews said, “Faith is the substance of what we hope for, the evidence of what we can’t see. (Hebrews 11:1) If we could already see it, we wouldn’t need faith.

In 1961, John F. Kennedy made a “confession of faith.” It went something like this.  I believe that we can put a man on the moon within a decade.  Do you think that JFK may have had doubts about that confession? 

So, I don't think it's wrong to confess our faith, even when we have doubts.  Some people thought JFK was naïve at best, and possibly crazy.  Some who hear Christians recite the Apostles Creed think the same thing.  And some Christians may feel crazy while they’re reciting the confession.  Still, we confess our faith, sometimes fraught with doubts…until, like everybody glued to their T.V.’s on July 20^th 1969, our faith is transformed into sight.

Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life…But Not Now?

Recently Jerry Falwell Jr. tweeted:

Conservatives & Christians need to stop electing “nice guys.” They might make great Christian leaders but the US needs street fighters like @realDonaldTrump at every level of government b/c the liberal fascist Dems are playing for keeps & many Repub leaders are a bunch of wimps. 9/28/18

Falwell’s tweet reflects a growing theology among some Christian leaders (particularly evangelical leaders). 

It goes something like this. The way of Jesus... the way of enemy love, non-violence and self-sacrifice is okay in church, but it just won’t cut it in the real world.  In the real world, Jesus just isn’t tough enough.  In the real world, you need street fighters.  Jesus is a fine Messiah if all you want to do is get to heaven, but if you want to make a difference in Washington, you’ll need another Messiah.  You’ll need a Messiah that puts his or her enemies on a cross, not one that dies on a cross for his enemies.

Jesus is the way, the truth and the life…but not now.

I don’t think we can overstate how destructive this brand of political activism has become in our world.  I’m sure it’s not their intention, but politicians and preachers, like Falwell, who have bought into it are proclaiming to the world that Jesus is going to be Lord someday but he’s not Lord now.  Right now, we have to fight fire with fire, hate with hate, violence with more violence, political ugliness with even more political ugliness.

But the apostle Paul, among others, clearly proclaims that Jesus is Lord (Philippians 2:11).  Jesus is Lord of the universe right now!  And a simple reading of history proves that the church has been truly influential only when we have chosen to do so through the power of the Lord Jesus Christ as we follow his teachings.  We bring value and honor to the politics of our land when, and only when, we are voices echoing the invitation of Jesus... “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:44-45)

I’m sure that Jerry Falwell, and other religious leaders, have the best intentions for their political activism.  I’m sure they choose a street fighting Messiah hoping that he or she will bring peace.  But I think our politicians and preachers need to be reminded that Jesus really is the way, the truth and the life…right now.

A Dream about a Dream about Heaven

I had a dream.  And in my dream, I was speaking before the national gathering of my church’s leaders.  And I said, I had a dream about heaven!  (So, I had a dream about telling some people about my dream about heaven.  Are you with me so far?)

I said, heaven is this place where everyone, from those who hunger and thirst for righteousness to those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, are truly blessed.

Heaven is a place where everyone has given up on anger.  It’s a place where everyone has come to see the futility of hatred and decided to love their enemies.  It’s a place where the instruments of warfare have been converted into the implements of agriculture.     

Heaven is a place where religious posturing has fallen away and no one feels compelled to impress anyone with their deep devotion or their high holiness.  Instead, everyone is fearlessly honest about their deep brokenness and their failure to “get it right.”

Heaven is a place where the need to climb the ladder of success has lost its appeal and no one worries about financial security or owning stuff.  Everyone prays, “give us this day our daily bread,” and everyone shares what has been given.   

Heaven is a place where no one tries to decide whether or not any of the other residents should be there.  The need to judge others has long since passed away.  Christians have stopped judging Muslims.  Palestinians have stopped judging Israelis.  The poor have stopped judging the rich.  The right has stopped judging the left.  In Christ there are no “judgy” people.       

Heaven is a place where “the Spirit and the bride say come,” and all who are thirsty gather to drink the water of life.  Because heaven is, after all, the city whose gates never shut, where anyone who wants to enter, can.  Sure, there will be some who, like the elder brother, refuse to go in.  But in the end, who can resist a party?

Heaven is a place where all kings and nations have gathered under the tree of life to find healing in its shade. 

Finally I said, would you like to go to heaven? 

Slowly, reluctantly at first, then more willingly and then more joyfully and fearfully, most of the religious leaders agreed that going to heaven would be a good thing.  So, we prayed together and we walked out the doors of the place where we had gathered and we took our first tentative steps into the kingdom of heaven. 

Then I woke from the heavenly dream that is, according to Jesus, even now becoming a present reality.

THE TRUTH

We’re near Holy week, the time in the church calendar when we remember the passion of Christ.  So, I’ve been thinking about a scene from that week.  It’s when Jesus stands before Pilate, the official representative of the Roman government in Judea, his life hanging in the balance.  Here’s the encounter from the gospel of John.

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate asked him, “What is truth?” (John 18:33-38)

Every time I come to this point in the story I really want Jesus to answer Pilate’s question, but he never does.  Maybe Jesus knew that (in the words of Jack Nicholson) Pilate couldn’t handle to truth.  But apparently, he believed that Thomas could.

A few days before Jesus appears before Pilate, he is with his disciples.  In response to a question from Thomas Jesus says,  “I am the way, the truth and the life.” (John 14:6)  So, what is the truth?  According to Jesus, he is.

Frederick Beuchner once wrote, “Jesus did not say that religion was the truth, or that his own teachings were the truth, or that what people taught about him was the truth, or that the Bible was the truth, or the church, or any system of ethics or theological doctrine.”  Beuchner’s right.  While all the things he listed share truth, none of them are the truth, at least not according to Jesus.  According to Jesus the truth is, in a word, Jesus.

So if I really want the truth, I have to let the Spirit of God take me beyond a religious system, beyond doctrine or dogma, even beyond the words on the pages of the Bible.  I have to be willing to be exposed to Jesus himself, perhaps through religion or doctrine or the Bible; but it has to be Jesus himself, the heart of Jesus, the raw, radical, undefinable Jesus.  When, and if, I know him, I know the truth.

For example, there is a story in John 8 about the time when Jesus looked at a sexually promiscuous woman and said, “I don’t condemn you.  Go and leave your sin behind.”  Somewhere deep in that story the truth is exposed, if I can handle him.

How about the story of a leper who came to Jesus and said, “If you’re willing, you can make me clean.  Jesus had compassion for the man and touched him and said, I am willing; be clean.  And the man was healed.”  (Mark 1:40-42)  Somehow that story connects us with the truth, if we’re ready for that electrifying connection.

Stories about Jesus eating and drinking at parties where known sinners were in attendance, stories about Jesus castigating the most devout religious people and going home to eat with the most infamously sinful people, reveal the truth, if you want to know him.

The hard teachings of Jesus that include instructions to strip naked so others can have something to wear and to pray for those who beat us up so we can be like our Father in heaven.  The truth is contained in these teachings; not so much in the words themselves (as powerful as they are) but in the person who is audacious enough to say them. 

The truth is ultimately exposed, hanging naked on a cross outside the city gates of Jerusalem.  There he is, asking the Father to forgive his persecutors, instructing a disciple to take care of his mother, speaking words of comfort and forgiveness to one more sinner, crying out to his Father in abandoned agony and giving up his Spirit in the belief that he had accomplished what the Father sent him to do.  There on that cross is the truth, if you can handle the truth.

No wonder Jesus let Pilate’s question hang in the air unanswered.  Some of us, and sometimes none of us, can embrace the answer.  But sometimes, when we can handle the truth, the truth transforms us.  This Lenten season, as we enter into Holy week, may we be transformed by the truth.     

The Gun Control Debate

I’m becoming increasingly concerned about the rhetoric around the gun control debate. The loudest voices seem to promote one of two extremes.

1.  Guns don’t kill people.  People kill people.  Guns have nothing to do with it.  We need “people control” not gun control.  So, parents! Shape up and do a better job raising your kids!  Oh yeah, those who want gun legislation are part of a conspiracy to take away your second amendment rights. 

2.  Guns are extremely dangerous.  If we could get rid of them, or at least get rid of the ones that are the deadliest, our kids could go to school without fear of getting shot.  So, congress! Pass reasonable gun legislation and all will be right with the world.  Oh yeah, the NRA is evil. 

I don’t consider myself an authority on gun control, but I do think of myself as somewhat knowledgeable about human nature in light of the scriptures.  So, I would like to address my friends from both camps.   

First, to my anti-gun-control friends; I agree with your basic argument.  The teachings of Jesus, along with the rest of the Bible, lead us to the understanding that evil (sin) is a problem that begins in the human heart. 

Jesus said things like, “You have heard that it was said to people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgement.’  But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to the judgement.”

Clearly, Jesus understood that human evil is not external to the heart but originates in it.  That’s why anger is so dangerous.  It’s the internal condition that, when left unchecked, metastasizes and grows until it expresses itself externally, most of the time in some destructive way. 

This understanding of anger and violence can be seen in the ancient Hebrew story of Cain and Able, the sons of Adam and Eve.  Cain was angry with his brother Able.  God saw the danger of Cain’s anger and counseled him to “master it.”  Cain, however, ignored the warning and finally killed Able.  By the way, the story doesn’t even include a description of the weapon Cain used.  That part seems to be irrelevant to the point of the story.

So apparently, according to the Bible, weapon control is all about self-control.  It’s not about the weapon(s).

Secondly, to my pro-gun-control friends: I agree with your basic argument.  Guns are extremely dangerous and some form of reasonable restriction seems prudent and, in my opinion, consistent with the heart of Jesus.

The gospel writers record a scene in which Jesus takes a child in his arms and tells the disciples that it would be better for a person to have a millstone hung around his neck and thrown into the sea than cause a little one to stumble.  He goes on to tell them that if their hand causes them to stumble, they should cut it off.  Of course, Jesus didn’t intend for people to literally dismember themselves.  But he did seem to indicate that if there’s something we can do (even something drastic) to protect children, we should do it.

So, maybe we should be more careful about our children’s exposure to violence on TV and in video games.  Maybe we should be more proactive about school campus security.  Maybe we should provide more intervention measures for troubled young people. 

And maybe we should pass legislation that makes it hard for a teenager to get an assault rifle.  Maybe we should pass legislation that makes it hard for anybody to get an assault rifle. 

I know the argument that says, “If you outlaw assault rifles, then only the bad guys will have them.”  But, of course, we don’t use that argument for something like underage drinking or texting while driving.  We don’t say, “If you make it illegal for kids under 21 to drink, then only the bad kids will get beer.”  We don’t say, “If you make texting while driving illegal, then only the rebellious kids will do it.”  No! we pass laws intended to protect our kids and then enforce them the best we can.  So maybe we should do the same thing with gun control legislation.

The question is, will we come together, ignore the rhetoric of the extremes, ignore those who use fear to motivate, and do what we can to save human beings.

A prayer, taken from The Book of Common Prayer, seems appropriate.

“Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so move every human heart [and especially the hearts of the people of this land], that barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen”

“I Believe In Jesus...Sometimes”

Christians are people who believe in Jesus.  And we believe that by believing in Jesus, we have life in his name.  But we live in this weird “between time;” between the time when God’s salvation has entered into the world (Christmas) and the time when the world finally enters into God’s salvation (the end of the age).

But Christians are people who have accepted the invitation to trust Jesus and enter into God's salvation now.  We're the ones who breathe in the crisp clean air that is God's salvation. We've been fitted with a set of spiritual lungs that can extract “God oxygen” out of this "between" atmosphere so that we are able to be fully alive. 

It's just that sometimes I don't believe in Jesus.  Sometimes (a lot of times) I fail to trust my new lungs.  I step out of my door on Monday morning, the day after I have publicly confessed my faith in Jesus Christ, holding my breath… waiting on the salvation that I already have. 

Or worse, I fall back on trying to suck life out of stuff like financial security, or a "successful" career, or hoping to hear about some other poor sap's failure so I can feel better about myself.  It’s sad really. It's not really living.  It's definitely not believing in Jesus.   

But sometimes, maybe on Christmas morning (which happens to be a Monday morning this year) I remember that I'm a Christian and I believe in Jesus.  And when I do, when I breathe deeply the breath of life that God keeps trying to breathe into me...well, then I am saved. 

This Christmas, may you and I believe in Jesus.  And by believing, may we have life in his name.  

Part of the Problem

What do you do when you realize that you’re part of the problem?

A while back I was scrolling through my Twitter feed, reading all the 140-character bits of “wisdom” (back when they were still 140 characters) written mostly by people who think like me.  It always makes me feel good when people think like me.

But then it happened.  Suddenly I found myself reading through the eyes of a good friend of mine, a good friend who disagrees with most of my tweets.  And I could see that the tweets were doing little to change my friend’s mind.  Not only that, my tweets were only stressing our friendship, making our interactions more tense and less productive.    

So, I took some time off from tweeting and blogging and posting; time for prayerful reflection.  I wanted to be able to discuss the topics I’m passionate about without alienating people who passionately disagree with me.  I wanted to learn to be part of the solution instead of being part of the problem.

After some time for reflection I’ve decided on a couple personal guidelines.

1.      Whenever possible, my interactions should be in person instead of online; in the form of conversations, instead of tweets.

 

Recently, I spent a long evening with my friend.  We shared a good meal.  We had a long and thoughtful conversation.  He shared his opinions and I shared mine.  He had great insights and articulated them skillfully.  I was able to understand his perspectives better and compelled to rethink some of mine.  I can’t say that we changed each other’s minds but, more importantly, our friendship remains intact.  Actually, I think our friendship is stronger than ever.  Maybe if we met our opponents at a restaurant instead of on Facebook we would be better off.      

2.       Assume the best in others, especially those with whom I disagree.

I talked about all this in a recent Questioning Christianity podcast (pardon the plug).  I believe Jesus taught enemy love and non-violence, and that he refused to use warfare to accomplish his purposes.  But I can assume the best of those who also follow the teachings of Jesus but believe that war is sometimes necessary.  I’m a pro-life advocate.  But I can assume the best of my pro-choice friends who also care about human beings.  I believe that the lives of those on death row are also sacred and should be protected.  And I can assume the best of those who believe in capital punishment.  If I can assume the best of others, maybe they can assume the best of me.  Maybe my just war friends can assume I’m not unpatriotic and maybe my pro-choice friends can assume I also care for women dealing with unwanted pregnancies and my capital punishment friends can assume that I care about justice and public safety.  

 So, I’m back online, but hopefully as part of the solution instead of the problem. 

The Way of Jesus is Hard

The way of Jesus, the way that infuses life into our souls, is hard.  Jesus said so.  He said it’s the narrow way, the hard way.  It’s the way that few people choose.  Most of us opt for the easy way, the way that keeps taking us to the same destructive destinations. (Matthew 7:13-14)

But those who choose the way of Jesus do hard things.  They grow food for the hungry, dig wells for the thirsty, open their doors to strangers, sew cloths for the naked, give medicine to the sick and visit the imprisoned. (Matthew 25:31-46)

I am often offended by the way of Jesus.

Take, for example, the very idea of inviting a stranger into my home.  I’m reluctant to house some of my own family members, much less a stranger!  But Jesus said that inviting a stranger in is actually making him [Jesus] my guest.  No pressure there!  

I once heard T.W. Hunt, one of the great saints now absent from the body and present with the Lord, tell a story about a “stranger” who knocked on his door.  He was a man who had recently shown up at T.W.’s church looking to make a change, hoping to be discipled in the way of Jesus by seasoned disciples, like T.W. and his wife Laverne.  To paraphrase a line from a Toby Keith song, this guy looked like a great big biker man.    

After praying it over they decided to invite this strange man into their home to live with them.  And he was indeed strange.  They worked on everything from personal hygiene to personal prayer time.  Needless to say, it was a great challenge for this saintly couple.  But they were determined to believe Jesus and take his teachings seriously.  So, discipleship continued daily.  Eventually, the stranger became a deacon in the church.  The hard way infuses life.    

The way of Jesus, the way that infuses life into our souls, is hard.  Jesus said so.

The word “stranger” in Matthew 25 is the Greek word xenos.  It literally means “alien” or “foreigner.”  We get our English word xenophobia from it, “the fear of foreigners.” 

So, when Jesus spoke these words he wasn’t just telling individuals to open their homes to strangers, he was saying that his kingdom is the kind of kingdom that opens its borders to foreigners, to immigrants, to refuges.   

  

I’m not a politician and I have little interest in attempting to shape national policy (like I even could).  I find that I have very little influence within the kingdoms of the world, including the one in which I live.  So, I mostly try to influence those who consider themselves citizens of the kingdom of God. 

And here’s what I’m trying to say.  Whatever our political affiliation and/or opinions, if you and I are interested in following the teachings of Jesus (also known as “being Christians”) then we must honestly grapple with what he’s inviting us to do for immigrants.  We must ask ourselves what it will look like to choose the way of Jesus.  In other words, those who honestly want to be followers of Jesus must take what he said seriously.

Of course, we won’t get it right much of the time.  Of course, the teachings of Jesus challenge us, offend us, scare us.  But remember, Jesus is the one who has “the words of eternal life.”  (John 6:68)

The way of Jesus is hard, but it’s the way that infuses life into our souls.  Jesus said so.

How in the World is God Saving the World?

Last month I posted a blog entitled “What in the World is Salvation.”  The argument I tried to make was that salvation (as understood by both ancient Jews and Christians) is not nearly as much about getting into heaven when we leave this world as it is about heaven coming to this world.  In short, Jesus Christ came to save the world.  (For more detail, you may want to go back and read that post.)

This month I want to talk about how God is saving the world. 

By the way, to say that salvation is God’s global redemption project is not to say that everyone in the world will be saved.  As much as God longs for all people to receive his gift of salvation, he won’t force it on us.  In the end, we still have the choice.  And some, I believe, will chose the comfortable familiarity of their hell to the breathtaking, painful beauty of heaven.

That said, if salvation is the redemption of our messed-up world, the healing of humanity and the restoration of the cosmos, then how is God getting it done?

The answer to that question is, in a word, Jesus. 

By the way, some Christians seem to believe that Jesus came to save us from God.  Their understanding of the wrath of God leads them to believe that God is extremely angry with humanity, so angry that he has to pour that anger out on someone.  They believe that Jesus came to be the scapegoat that stood between an angry God and sinful people. 

But there is another way of understanding what Jesus did on the cross.  Jesus died on the cross to save the world from our sin, not from God.  It was humanity’s sin that sent this world spiraling down into the abyss of anger, hatred, violence, greed, selfishness, lust…the list goes on.

The audacious claim of Christianity is that the cross of Christ is the pivotal moment in human history; that somehow the death of Jesus changed the trajectory of the world.  On the cross Jesus loosened the death grip that evil had on the world and brought us his salvation.  On the cross Jesus brings healing to our broken world. 

Christians are, at the core of our being, people of faith.  We are people who believe that it’s actually true!  Jesus came to save us from our sin and, dying on a cross outside the city walls of Jerusalem, he accomplished what he came to do.  On that dark, beautiful, Good Friday, salvation came to this hurting world!  We believe that it is true!

So, first of all, Christians are people who believe.  We believe that Jesus came to save the world and that he did not fail.  We believe in Jesus! 

Secondly, Christians are people who live out their beliefs.  We live as if it is true because we believe that it is true!

We love our enemies because Jesus, the one who loved his enemies is delivering us from the sin of hatred and violence.  Salvation has come!  We feed the hungry, heal the sick, shelter the homeless and open our doors to immigrants because we don’t have to be greedy or fearful or hateful any longer.  Salvation has come!  We refuse to live in this world as if this world is hopeless.  We refuse to be those people who believe that the world is bad and getting worse, that we need to hide out in our bunkers every Sunday morning waiting till things get so bad that Jesus has to step in and save us.  No!  We live in this world as people of hope because we believe that Jesus has already stepped in and saved us. 

 

Yes, our world is broken and hurting, but we believe that the healer has already come and the cure was his cross.  So now we take up our crosses and follow him.  We take up our crosses and follow Jesus because we believe in Salvation…and believing we have life through his name.  We are Saved!  The world is being Saved!     

  

What in the World is Salvation?

One of my hopes is to have an ongoing conversation with people who are curious about Christianity.  Sometimes that conversation needs to be about doctrines that are central to our Faith.

One of those is the Doctrine of Salvation. 

Some believe that Salvation is all about getting to go to heaven when we die.  In the church of my youth we talked a lot about “getting saved.”  (And the pastor would add an “uh” for emphasis.  “You need to get saved…uh!”)  For us, salvation was pretty much all about eternal life after our mortal lives were over.  

We quoted John 3:16, the most familiar verse in the Bible, a lot.  For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. (RSV)       

However, while Salvation is certainly not less than being in heaven when we die, it is more than that, much more!

Here’s a short definition.  Salvation, according to the Bible, is the complete healing of our broken world, including the broken people in it. 

Remember, John 3:17 comes right after John 3:16.  For God sent the Son into the world, [the Cosmos] not to condemn the world, but that the world, might be saved through him.  (RSV - I added the underlining for emphasis.)  

So, salvation is not just about the transportation of individual human beings to a place called heaven.  Salvation is about the transformation of human beings and the place they call home, the heavens and the earth.

In the book of Revelation, the writer hears loud voices in heaven saying: “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.”  Later he hears a loud voice in heaven say: “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come.” (Revelation 11&12 - RSV)      

Think about the global implications of salvation coming to our world! 

For example, nations will no longer engage in warfare.  The prophet Isaiah dreamed of a day when nations would repurpose their military weapons, converting them into farming equipment.

Isaiah 2:4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” (RSV)

Think about it!  No more refugees desperately trying to escape violence in their homeland because their leaders have converted their tanks into tractors.  No more children going hungry because their leaders have redirected billions of dollars from the department of defense to the department of agriculture.    

Think about the implications for individuals like you and me.  Remember, salvation is transformation.  It’s about becoming fully human… the people we were created to be. 

Being saved means that I can actually love my neighbor as I love myself.  I don’t need to protect my ego.  I am free to be honest with myself and others.  I can share freely instead of hording for myself.  I no longer use or abuse others for my own selfish purposes.  I live in the reality of God’s salvation!

More needs to be said about the Doctrine of Salvation.  (The next blog will be about how salvation is coming to the world.)  But for now, let me ask you...  Does this description of salvation tap into a deep longing in your soul?  Does something inside of you yearn for it?  Does the very idea that the world could be a place characterized by Shalom (Peace) resonate deep inside of you?    

If so, I encourage you to contemplate the powerful impact Jesus of Nazareth has had, and is having on our world.  As a follower of Jesus, I have come to believe that the future of the human race depends on what he is up to in this world.  I have come to believe that salvation is not just a future hope, it is a present reality.  I have come to believe that the transformation of our world (including you and me) is a live option.  It can happen now. 

I would be love to hear your thoughts. 

Epiphany

I’m an early riser.  Most mornings I’m up before the sun.  It’s my favorite time of the day.  It’s when I say prayers and read scriptures and meditate and anticipate the sunrise.  Before anyone else has even considered getting out of bed, I’m watching the darkness surrender to the dawn. 

One morning I was sitting in the sun room with the lights out.  As the room began to be illuminated by the dawning day, I noticed something in the corner I hadn’t seen before.  In the twilight it looked just like a fishing rod tube.  (For those not familiar with that description, a fishing rod tube is the cylinder-shaped case used to store a fishing rod.)  The more I looked at it, the more certain I was that Cindy, my wife, had bought a new fishing rod and left it in the sun room to surprise me.  I became convinced that I was, without doubt, looking at a new fishing rod stored in a new fishing rod tube.

Finally, I turned on the lamp so I could see my new treasure, only to discover that what I thought was a fishing rod tube was actually a curtain rod.  What I thought was a present from my wife was actually a project for my wife.  She wanted me to hang a new curtain rod.

That morning I had an epiphany of sorts.  When the light came on, I saw the object clearly for what it really was.

Right now, the Church is observing the season of Epiphany.  From the end of the Christmas celebration to the beginning of Lent we celebrate the manifestation of Jesus Christ as God in the flesh.  It is normally associated with the visit of the Magi to see the Christ child or with the baptism of Jesus and his anointing as the beloved Son of God.

Near the Jordan River, John the Baptist saw Jesus coming and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”  In the Gospel of John, the first chapter, he said it twice.  “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”  He also twice repeated this phrase; “I myself did not know him…” 

Wouldn’t you expect him to say the opposite?  It seems to me he should say something like, “I know him!  He’s the Lamb of God!” 

What if John, there by the Jordan, had and epiphany?  What if he saw Jesus…I mean really saw him?  What if the Jesus he thought he saw in the twilight of a new age was completely different from the Jesus he saw in the full light of day? 

John had envisioned a Messiah who would be a grim reaper.  One who would come with his winnowing fork in his hand, who would clear the threshing floor, gather the wheat and burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. (Matthew 3:12)   

But now he sees Jesus, the Lamb…the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.  He sees Jesus, the one who, through self-sacrifice, would heal our broken world.  He would take away the sin of the world not by burning up the sinners but by suffering for them; not by coming in like a Lion but like a Lamb, the Lamb of God.

So, I’m thinking that this year our world needs an epiphany.  We need a new vision of Jesus.  Coming out of the darkness of 2016, the darkness that caused us to see a distorted image of Jesus, the darkness in which we thought Jesus was a warrior God who wanted to help us kill our enemies or defeat our political opponents, the darkness that left us groping around in fear, looking for a Messiah who would make us great again, a king who would sit on his thrown and pronounce judgement on all those people, all those people who are not like us, who are other than us, who are out to get us; the Muslims, the immigrants, the blacks, the whites, the Hispanics. 

Like John, in our darkness we saw the Jesus we wanted to see.  But, like John, we can step into the light and see Jesus as he really is.  He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, who forgives his enemies, who blesses those who persecute him, who loves the unlovable and dies for the despicable.

In 2017, what if we, like John the Baptist, have an epiphany?  What if we shook off the darkness, stepped into the light and saw the real Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world?  What if we decided to follow this Jesus into the light of a new day, to actually take his teachings seriously, reject fear, embrace enemy love, refuse to be manipulated by the darkness that wants to dominate this broken world? 

An Epiphany prayer for 2017:

Most loving Father, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on you who care for us: Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, that no clouds of this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested to us in your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen (form the The Book of Common Prayer)

Creation

A Sunday school class room fully equipped with Bibles, coloring books and a flannel board was sacred space in the mind of a five-year old boy.

It was there that I learned about God’s creative enterprise…about the Creator God who spoke the universe into existence. 

The first book of the Bible begins with this God showing up out of nowhere with a booming voice (in my mind it had to be booming) forming the words, “Let there be light!”  And, sure enough, there on the first day of creation, “there was light,” (even before “there was” the sun, which came later in the week).  This God, this Creator God, who could say, “Let there be” and “there was,” filled my five-year old imagination with wonder.

The second chapter of Genesis tells the story about how the Creator God stooped down, scooped up some dirt and made a person.  I envisioned God, in childlike posture on his knees in the dirt, forming the dirt into the shape of a man, breathing life into the dirt sculpture until the man became a living, breathing being.

Whether speaking or breathing creation into existence, this Creator God is, in a word, Awesome! (The term is overused but here necessary because truly I was in awe.)       

Now, almost 50 years later, I’m still in awe of this God.  My mind and my imagination still overflow with the wonder of creation.  

But now I’m filled with awe not because there is a God who spoke our universe into existence in a very short period of time.  I personally find no conflict between the poetic version of the creation story in Genesis and the scientific account of the development of the universe.  In both I hear the voice of God bringing into existence ex nihilo (out of nothing), everything that exists.  

I imagine the slow, steady, patient whispering of God over the vast nothingness long before and long after the big bang.  (Don’t ask me to explain how “long before and long after” happened in the absence of what we know as “time.”)  I imagine the slow, steady, patient whispering of God's voice down through the eons forming mountains and valleys, deserts and oceans, a 14-billion-year building project.   

I can hear the sound of God's voice in the slow movement of glaciers, in the clash of continents.  Not the car wreck kind of high speed collision, but the marriage kind of collision; two mobile landmasses joining one another in wedded bliss and stubborn confrontation, forever reshaping the two separate lives into one.  Mountain ranges reaching thousands of feet into the sky were formed one slow centimeter at a time, year after year as the voice of God patiently spoke. 

I can hear the voice of God in the movement of wind and water.  The oldest mountains slowly being humbled as the water and wind bring them down to size until, like our own Blue Ridge mountains, we can see the wisdom in their wrinkled rock faces and snow topped heads.  It’s like the voice of God has not only shaped them externally, but also internally.  When I walk those mountain ranges, they seem to share some of that imparted wisdom with me.  Sometimes I listen.  Sometimes I don’t.

This slow, steady, patient, creative voice of God appeals to me at the age of 54 even more than the instantaneous creative voice of God captivated me at age five.

Maybe the reason is because I relate the creative work of God in my own life to the creative work of God in the universe.  I've discovered that very little happens instantaneously, including personal growth. 

What if our development as human beings, our spiritual formation, our discipleship as followers of Jesus Christ, happens as God, through Christ (the logos, The Word) slowly speaks our lives into existence? 

What if, as we yield to this voice, we slowly move toward becoming the people God dreamed of when creation began?  Truly it is a slow process.  Maybe another 14 billion years.  Maybe longer.   

Like creation’s slow gradual formation through the power of the whispering voice of the Creator God, our formation is slow, arduous, painful, at times cutting into our hard hearts the valleys that will become lush with the knowledge of God; pushing up from the continental clashes in our lives the mountain ranges that raise us to the heights higher than we ever dreamed of reaching so that we can see things we never saw before. 

For this ongoing process we call Creation, (in the cosmos of planets and stars or the cosmos of heart and mind) we have the Creator God to thank.