![]() Christian, it's not perseverance if everything has (heck, if simply just things in general have) been working in your favor. If you haven't been denying yourself (over and over and over, not just once and not when there is nothing at stake, really at stake), haven't been taking up your cross as to be in a position to lose your life (again and again et al. . . .), haven't had to run in such a way to produce endurance for the next run (and not simply running in such a way that is unencumbered or your path has been made to slope slightly downward for you all your life), nor have experienced and endured pain so as to be trained (disciplined) by it (which takes time, not days, and certainly not briefly), I doubt, then, you are able to know God well enough to determine His will for you. I haven't even brought up or mentioned discipleship, the Dietrich-Bonhoeffer-costly-discipleship, or submission to mature church leadership, or committed to a body of believers (and not simply congregations made up of your peers or your kind of people) over a longer than a church-shopper period of time . . . but, still, these are relevant as well for knowing God in Christ and, thus, learning to know God's will for you. Furthermore, how will you help others to persevere? How do you minister to (disciple) those that face, regularly, things not going their way (over and over again). How do you disciple and/or comfort those whose path has been and will most likely stay inclined? Back-up verses to consider along with my thoughts:
0 Comments
Dangerous Sunday Morning Devotions: Who are “the Least” in the Kingdom of God? (Matthew 11:11)3/18/2019 ![]() In Matthew 10, the twelve are sent on a preaching tour. Jesus, then, in Matthew 11, takes to his own preaching tour. After he was approached by some of John the Baptizer’s disciples, Jesus, later, spoke to the crowds (v. 7a), asking them, “what did you go out to see when John the Baptizer was preaching in the wilderness outside the cities of Israel” (vv. 7b-9)? Jesus tells them that John was the “greatest of all born of women” (v. 11a), which I take to mean John as a prophet was the hinge of redemptive history, the final prophet, who pointed directly to, introducing the Messiah-king long promised (vv. 10, 13-14). But then, Jesus adds: “Yet, the one who is least [mikros] in the kingdom of heaven is greater than John” (v. 11b). These are strange words, actually, provoking the question, who are “the least” here in Jesus’ statement? In a NT way of thinking, there are no “leasts” in the kingdom, for (hasn’t) that has been the problem throughout church history and, sadly, today, where the church has instituted hierarchies patterned after the world (or power) and social environments (and class) where there are “leasts” and “nonleasts.” You know, to use other NT language, “lasts” and “firsts.” So, what does Jesus mean here by “least in the kingdom”? Who are these “leasts”?
Nonetheless, we do have a contextual marker for the “least” right here in the text, within Jesus’ own teaching and Matthew’s narrative context. So, I’d say, this is the first place, the narrative itself, and probably the only appropriate place, to discover who the “least” in the kingdom are whom Jesus is referring—and then, read the text for appropriate significance and application. Just prior to this John the Baptizer' disciples interchange, Jesus tells us who “the least” are: they are the blind who receive their sight, the lame who walk, the lepers who are cleansed, the deaf who hear, the dead who are raised up, and the poor who have good news preached to them (11:5). This list is not “everyone” (though we preach, teach, and reword the plain, clear reading to fit our affluent, non-poor, privileged spheres) to make it mean "everyone." This is further affirmed by the terms used to charge Jesus at the end of the narrative unit: Jesus eats supper with (i.e., is a “glutton and a drunkard”) and is “a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (v. 9). These are “the least” because they are (without reading into the narrative) “the least” socially and religiously.* Besides, elsewhere “the least” are identified as real and particular: “little ones” (same word as “least,” mikros) receive a cup of water from a disciple (Mt 10:42); people are warned not to cause “little ones” (again, same word) to stumble, which are easily understood as “children” (18:6; cf. vv. 10, 14; Luke 9:48; 12:32; also, Hebrews 8:11; Revelation 13:16, where poor and small/least are parallel). When the disciples asked Jesus “who is the greatest in the kingdom” (18:1b), he pulls a child before them and teaches that unless we (the crowd and the disciples) “become like a child” we cannot enter the kingdom (18:2-3). Later he calls the child a “little one” (again, the word for “least”)—thus, a child is “least” (v. 6). This makes sense in that a child in the Greco-Roman world was considered only partially human (i.e., not a full person), that is one of “the least.” So, Jesus teaches, only if one who humbles oneself to be like a child** (i.e., a “least”) could be “greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (18:3-4) This is the same pattern found in the Jesus-John-the-Baptizer teaching in Matthew 11: The “least in the kingdom of heaven” is “greater” than John the Baptist (11:11).
As the first will be last and the last first (Matthew 19:30; 20:16), so the least among us—the bottom populations, the bottom demographics—are greater in the kingdom of heaven than John the Baptizer. This does not subtract from the affluent, privileged, and powerful (i.e., the first) discovering Jesus; for, as they become like children, helpless and needy and recognizing their privilege is counter to the kingdom of God, they, too, may enter the kingdom of God and, thus, learn how divest their power and over-abundance (i.e., become last). Recognizing that “the least” does not ignore the nonleasts in our social structures, but helps them—as well as church leaders and churches (that are in danger of having leasts and nonleasts in their own ecclesiastical structures—to align with, what seems to be, the priorities stressed by Jesus in his teaching regarding the Kingdom of Heaven. *Please read “sinners” as it is indented: again, not as “we are all sinners,” but as those who our outcasts, uneducated, the poor, the ceremonially unclean, the non-religious-elite, et al. So, sinners here are specific, not just anyone. More like our “people on the other side of the railroad tracks,” “the people in that house,” “on that street,” “in that neighborhood,” “in that section of town,” the less-people, the unclean, unstable, not-like-us, not-our-kind, et al. **Don’t lower this to mean, to be child-like, i.e., we need to be child-like. Being “like a child” in the Greco-Roman world was one of the most dangerous places to be. Our modern concern for the welfare of children has no equivalent in the NT world. Affirming the dignity of children was socially counter-cultural, for children were universally “displayed as negative symbols or paradigms” and were “ill-suited portraits for adults.” The preservation of the Roman family estate was the social and civic priority, not the protection and prosperity of the child. A child’s life was cheap. Children could face sexual exploitation by adult males, forced into heavy labor, or subject to maltreatment by tutors. The despicable ancient practice known as exposure, the abandonment of unwanted infants, is illustrative of the social mapping of Jesus’ day.
![]() Let’s reconsider two Biblical thoughts from our favorite-to-quote-bucket–“take up your cross” and “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:38-39)–and see if we can save them from the pile of Christian clichés. We should pay closer attention to the narrative context as we read the text from which these two are found, before we make application: that is, hearing the significance, then making application. Taking up one’s cross is often used devotionally to move Christians toward obedience; and, losing-finding one’s life is often used toward the nonChristian to draw them to Christ. Not bad things (or outcomes), but rather than a general (privatized) application of these–which, by the way, these are toward Christians for faithful perseverance and endurance in the faith, which is the context, e.g., “. . . the one who endures to the end will be saved,” 10:22b–and, thus, a more specific application is warranted. First, the context is specific:
The immediate paragraph context is the strain and conflict between believing and unbelieving household members. Household conflict in general would have threatened heir legitimacy (the reason for the household in the first place in Greco-Roman culture and social construct, to produce and protect a legitimate male-citizen heir), the passing on of wealth and family social standing, and would have put at risk one’s survival . . . so literally one “saves” one’s life through the family/household and “loses” one’s life apart from family (that is, a household under a patriarch, male-head-of-household). This was the Greco-Roman way (in the time of New Testament). This makes better since of Jesus’ words: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:39). Thus, taking up one’s cross (v. 38a) is related to what happens when following Jesus puts one, “for Jesus’ sake” (v. 39b), in a place where one can no longer count on the social construct available for life (literally for survival). So, the significance of this text and these “clichés” is, following Jesus (which this text is about; v. 38b) means to die to (i.e., no longer count on or trust) the ways in which our social constructs and cultural norms provide identity, security, and worth. The Christian’s identity, security, and worth is located in Jesus and in his cross, which, then, sets animosity, alienation, and, potential, hostility in within the world (i.e., society and cultural and institutional place) that currently gives one identity. This is truly Christian discipleship, that is, following after Jesus. This is losing one’s life (i.e., giving up, abandoning, rejecting, not trusting in such social norms--again--for identity, security, and worth) to find real, true life through following Jesus. The question would, then, be what social constructs and cultural norms give us (give you) identity, security, and worth? These we need to die to in order to have real, true life. This is what it means to actually follow Jesus.
My Ego, Not My Potential, Was Offended: A personal reflection on the mind of Christ (Philippians 2)2/20/2019 The following is adapted from my book Destroying Our Private Cities, a lay commentary on Paul's Letter to the Philippian church. I used an abbreviated form of this personal illustration during a recent sermon at Christ Presbyterian Church in The Hill, the church I am privileged to pastor in the Hill community of New Haven, Connecticut. The sermon was on Jesus eat with tax collectors and sinners (from Matthew 9); was used in a presentation on submitting to spiritual authority, the section on "Learning to Imitate Jesus." This illustration is the conclusion to my chapter on "Putting Jesus to Our Potential," an exposition on Philippians 2:5-11 A Menial Job![]() Through my seminary years I worked part‑time to help support my family. My job consisted of the two things I despise more than anything on earth: cleaning and vacuuming. I was a janitor. Already I was a wreck emotionally. The combination of being a nobody at school and a janitor for a daycare center made things worse. I felt I was not fulfilling my potential. One day while cleaning a toilet I got angry at God. Slamming the sponge down into the toilet bowl, I said, “I am a preacher, a teacher. And here I am cleaning toilets!” I protested not getting the church position. I complained about not preaching. My insecurities matched my “unfulfilled potential.” I knew I was dealing with pride, but I thought my complaint was justified because I did have gifts, you know! In the midst of my tantrum, God brought to my mind a sermon illustration I had heard back at college. The preacher recalled the story of a rather well‑to‑do graduate student who finished top of his class with a doctorate. He felt called to the ministry, and a rather prestigious Philadelphia congregation invited him to be their pastor. But the young man felt called to work with William Booth in England. So he left America to apply for a ministry with the Salvation Army. At the interview, Mr. Booth told the young man there was no place for him. His education and wealthy-status would hinder him from taking orders from street preachers, some of them former drunks and prostitutes. But the young man was persistent, and Mr. Booth gave him a try. He sent him to a dark, dingy cellar to clean and shine the muddy boots of the street preachers. After a while, it occurred to the young man that indeed he might be wasting his talents and gifts. “You call yourself a servant of God,” the devil seemed to be saying, “but look at you. You’re squandering all you have to offer.” The man thought of the Philadelphia pulpit he had turned down. But as those thoughts danced in his head, another Voice whispered, “It’s all right. I washed their feet too.” My Ego, Not My Potential, Was OffendedThere at my daycare janitorial job, I realized the issue was pride and my false sense of fulfillment. It was my ego that had been offended, not my potential. Here in the United States we have, now, over 300 million “most important persons in the whole world.” Logic would suggest someone’s potential is going to be sacrificed. The mind of Christ turns this idea right‑side‑up. We must consider that the pursuit of our potential might actually be a disadvantage for others and a hindrance to the gospel. It is not self‑fulfillment but self‑submission that God desires. But you say, “If I give myself to sacrificial obedience, I could be put in a position where I was taken advantage of. I could be used and, even worse, abused.” That possibility exists. And it happens far too often. The solution is not to reject the biblical text and shrink from sacrificial service to others. The solution is to exercise the mind of Christ. Each of us has limited time, energy and resources. We should be selective. The Christ‑hymn of Philippians 2 supplies the appropriate elements for the decision‑making process.
![]() Lay Christians, along with way too many ministers, read pop-books on Christianity or justice or prayer or church or ministry or missions (i.e., easy to read, little to no exegesis of Bible texts or serious theological thought, good and solid biblical theology nonexistent, often detached from any relevant connection to church history nor connected to any sense of New Testament ecclesiology, and, to be honest, no deep, critical thinking needed and more culturally and socially appealing than truly countercultural and socially upsetting–so, have I offended enough, yet?) . . . there are a number of books I wish (and pray) lay-people would read (try to read, at least . . . take the time . . . they are not easy reading for the most part, but should be attempted, nonetheless) . . . There a plenty of smart and thoughtful and serious lay Christians fully capable of reading these (and that's whom I am specifically targeting here); but the pop-Christian books are so appealing and, thus, are most often relevantly appealing because they affirm our comfortable niché in our world and in modernity (again, offensive, but no apologies) . . . but, still, here is one I have added to that list of should-must-ought to reads: The Church and Its Vocation: Lesslie Newbigin's Ecclesiology by Michael W. Goheen.
If your response is simply, "Amen," to these primer quotes rather than being challenged, made to feel uncomfortable, or having your faith and church life as they are called into questioned . . . you really need to digest the book first . . . than lament and find a way to strengthen your faith . . .
Any (lay-people) up to the challenge? Okay, you pastors, too? My story of the first American Missionary: the moment I realized I was among the privileged2/11/2019
I became a Christian by choice July 10, 1978 on Mountain Home Air Force Base in Idaho. That was a Monday evening. The following weekend I was camping with a small church plant from town that had decided to take the whole church up high into the Rocky Mountains for a weekend retreat. I was invited by workmates that attended the church. That Sunday, after service, I was baptized in the South Fork of the Boise River that ran through the campground, just south of Andersen Ranch Reservoir Dam. It was a Christian & Missionary Alliance church plant. Throughout my early Christian years, I was surrounded by missionaries and missionary stories—told and read. I attended St. Paul Bible College (now Crown College) in Minnesota, where a day didn’t go by that missions, reaching the ends of the earth with the gospel, wasn’t front and center—in the classroom, in chapel, special speakers, missionaries, Miss-Cab Thursday chapel, missionary and deeper-life conferences, and on the walls in the halls of the college building. Stories of the first C&MA missionaries to the Congo, the famed Robert Jaffrey in China, and the names of numerous missionary martyrs filled the air and conversations all over campus. Missions was the air we breathed. We heard more than once about the first American missionaries to leave the continent for a foreign land, giving birth to the modern missionary movement. This mission saturation continued as I moved on to graduate school at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and far into my church ministry years.
Many view this Haystack Prayer Meeting as the event that developed into the modern American missions movement in the subsequent decades and centuries as we have come to know it. We knew their names, those Haystack prayer warriors—Samuel John Mills, James Richards, Robert C. Robbins, Harvey Loomis, and Byram Green—and can recall the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, which would launch the first American missionaries to leave the continent to bring the gospel to the lost. Never once did I hear the name George Liele. Not once. Herein is the problem—and a hint of what it means to be among the privileged, even as a Christian. Do not read me wrong: I loved my early church experience and I cry and am humbled when I think of my time and friends at St. Paul Bible College (aka Crown College). So many good Christian brothers and sisters, professors and classmates. Yet, why didn’t I hear of George Liele? Because he and his call to missions wasn’t part of our "privileged" heritage, experience, or history. At age fifty-seven, after being a Christian for thirty-six years, I stumbled by Provincial accident onto George Liele, the first American to leave the shores of these United States for an overseas mission field. George Liele was black and a slave. George Liele (1750-1828), actually, was the first person from America to go to another country as a missionary—twenty-three years earlier than the missionaries from the famed Haystack Prayer Meeting. He began his life on a plantation, being born into a slave family owned by Henry Sharpe in Virginia. At the age of 23, in 1773, George became a Christian at the Buckhead Creek Baptist Church. Even as a slave, he became a preacher and traveled with Sharpe great distances to preach at many plantations. In 1775, George earned and paid for his freedom.
of Jamaica. In less than two years, he paid his debt to the Governor and became a free man, once again. George Liele became the first American missionary to another country. He, literally, had to sell it all to do so. After regaining his freedom, George planted a church in Jamaica that would eventually grow to over 300 members. George Liele was probably the first African-American traveling revivalist. It seems that he co-founded the first black Baptist church in America headed by an African-American; in fact, it may have been the first black church in America. Reverend Liele was one of the first and may have been the first ordained African-American Baptist minister (1775), and possibly the first ordained African-American minister in the USoA. More accurately than most have it, George was, however, the first America missionary to go to another country, which makes him the first black American foreign missionary. And, his seventh first, he planted the first black Baptist church in Jamaica. Apparently George Liele will not mind being “last” with all those firsts. But, as for me, being surrounded and saturated in missionary stories from the very beginning, how could I have not been told nor heard of George Liele? This was that moment, my realization that I had indeed lived out my life and, then, my early years as a Christian among and around those who are privileged to write our own history. We left out some things—by intent and by default and by unintended consequences of birth, genealogy, power, and address. Those Haystack college boys, their story stands on it own merits. To God be the glory that these five lit a fire for missions that continues to this day. But, I should have been taught about George Liele, too. In this I was not privileged. I missed out on a powerful example of someone who took Jesus at his word and left it all for the sake of the gospel: “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” I should have known about George Liele. Now, you know him.
My 2019 and future vision as a member and pastor of CPC in The Hill–and my prayer emphasis for 20191/1/2019 ![]() Starting today, January 1, 2019, I am praying (among other things) every day for: ☛Some who will come and join us as a part of our CPC in The Hill congregation who have the entrepreneur skills to make opportunities in the Hill (not outside the Hill, in the Hill) ☛Some with a humble and learning spirit to join us as a part of CPC in The Hill, not for leadership, but as servants to empower our Hill members and thus our Hill neighbors, those that can help us build the resources we need, that the Hill needs. ☛For some young, trained, Christian adventurers to come join us—and stay, not just consider us a mission adventure or a step to what “we really want to do,” but a committed, long term ministry among people in the Hill. ☛For some with resources, talents, and gifts and abilities that will share these resources, talents, and gifts and abilities as a part of CPC in The Hill. ☛And, one very specific, a more narrow, request, that a few would feel the call to help me figure out how to build a ministry of hospitality in and through CPC in The Hill. Most consider that opportunities for bettering lives, for up-ward mobility, for employment, etc. is outside the Hill. Some Christians even think spiritual success and vibrant church life is outside places like the Hill. If the Christmas incarnation we just celebrated teaches us anything, God sends his chosen into places like the Hill to live incarnationally (meaning relocating and living as a member of that place) and ascensionally [yes, I made up an adverb, but it is a real thing] as members of Christ’s body in a place, i.e., living out the ascension life of Christ as a part of a church in a neighborhood. Part of my vision (and I believe I have my congregation on this, our vision) is to be a church that helps create such opportunities in (not outside) the Hill. The way to change poverty and the conditions of poverty is to empower those living with the conditions of poverty to have opportunities to flourish and succeed in their community and neighborhoods. Most—if not all—opportunities are, however, elsewhere. The idea of “hoarding of opportunities” (my new phrase for 2019) comes into play here: the opportunities for flourishing and a better life are hoarded outside communities like the Hill. Most likely, you, as a Christian, are in such a place where opportunities are being hoarded. CPC in The Hill, we are not a non-profit nor a community program. This vision can’t just be written into a grant. (FYI—my profession for 20 years before coming to the Hill.) We are a church, a gathered-church in the Hill community of New Haven, CT. Our gospel not only saves each of us, it empowers us, together as church, to love on our neighborhood and to think of ways in which we can help or enable it to flourish. I believe this is God’s way as well. Not the State. Not our pity. Not our largess to offer charity. But a church, made up of redeemed people freed to serve others, to be, together as church, a foretaste of things to come (in the new heavens and new earth); a tangible, touchable, taste-able, visible display of the presence of God’s kingdom in a place, for people. Church. Jesus acted out the alternative to empire, to power, to the state, to the way things are; an alternative to the status quo. So, as Christ’s body, are we not to act out the (one true and eternal) alternative to empire, to power, to the state, to the way things are, to the status quo? Yes, indeed. Of course, we want people that actually live and have been living in the Hill to join us—and they are and they will. That’s the point to all this. Still, I am thinking there are others just like me who feel God’s call to a mysterious, humbling, relocating adventure of ministry. Old (like me) and young. Not for the short term. But to relocate (to church and/or to the neighborhood—Lisa and I just moved into our Hill apartment). Some, for sure. ![]() To those “some” in my prayer requests (above), perhaps the Hill is your next step in your discipleship journey. To the “some” who are retired or ready to retire, life (if heaven be real) isn’t elsewhere in God’s kingdom, perhaps the Hill is your retirement home. To the “some” who are young, college-age, millennials, the Hill can be you statement against all that is said about your generation and be the place of your discipleship-flourishing adventure. To the “some” of the Z-generational who are ready to make life decisions, maybe God’s call is for you to discover a place at CPC in The Hill. To the “some” with the resources, talents, and gifts and abilities to empower others to flourish, perhaps God is calling you to an adventure in the Hill. Perhaps to the “some” already settling for a status-quo (“I desire this”) life where opportunities are being hoarded, there is a call for a better life, something mysteriously great, more significant. I can count, without hesitation, a dozen of my friends (which include college-mates, former students, ministry colleagues) that I’d say, consider this. (You might even know who you are. I am thinking I should just invite you to consider–some I have already, even if you think I was kidding.) I know of local young, millennial, and Z-generation friends and acquaintances that could make a difference away from the places that are “hoarding opportunities” and make that difference in the Hill. This is no easy adventure. Your (i.e., the “some”) first call is to live among and listen and learn from our Hill neighbors. This will be hard because you will think you are called to change things and lead others—that’s why you are responding to this invitation and call in the first place. But the first part of the journey is serving, learning, and loving. This is counterintuitive; but, it is God’s way. (And that’s why many won’t take up this invitation.) The mystery here is not going into the Hill to bring God with you, but to join God who is already at work in the Hill. In all likelihood, you (the “some”) are now in a place where the world and the church is “hoarding the opportunities” that neighbors in the places like the Hill can and could use. Perhaps, some of you can change this by being a part of, a member of, a servant with CPC in The Hill. This is my vision and prayer for 2019. You have been invited to consider this joining in this vision. Message me. Wasted top reads in 2018: Books that made significant impact on my thinking and ministry vision12/31/2018 ![]() I read a lot. Sometimes more than one book at a time. At the end of each year, I post the ten or so top books that have been influential to me, which I think other Christians and those in church ministry would benefit from reading as well. I don’t list journal articles, but I read a lot of these as well. But since you all will more likely buy a book than dig up an academic journal, I give you the most significant books I have read in 2018. I don’t have to agree with everything an author has written to be influenced—to rethink, to expand my thoughts on church, the faith, the gospel, mission, evangelism, discipleship, culture, justice, etc. These eleven books make the list because their subject matter will have lasting value on me. And, I believe would greatly help you on your discipleship journey as well. They are not in any particular order; more or less the order I read them throughout 2018. Nonetheless, I strongly suggest the two books by Richard Beck and Michael Goheen’s book on Newbigin’s “Missionary Ecclesiology” as very important and significant reads for those in church ministry. And, I highly recommend Stephen Backhouse's book on Kierkegaard is a fun (enjoyable) read that will help you think about your faith out of the box (out of the Christendom box the church finds itself in at this time). Enjoy. Church and Its Vocation: Lesslie Newbigin’s Missionary Ecclesiology by Michael W. Goheen Church Forsaken: Practicing Presence in Neglected Neighborhoods by Jonathan Brooks, Stranger God: Meeting Jesus in Disguise by Richard Beck Mañana: Christian Theology from a Hispanic Perspective by Justo L. González Loving the Poor, Saving the Rich: Wealth, Poverty, and Early Christian Formation by Helen Rhee Delivered from the Elements of the World: Atonement, Justification, Mission by Peter J. Leithart Saved by Faith and Hospitality by Joshua W. Jipp Exegeting the City: What You Need to Know About Church Planting in the City Today by Sean Benesh Urban Hinterlands: Planting the Gospel in Uncool Places by Sean Benesh Kierkegaard: A Single Life by Stephen Backhouse Unclean: Meditations on Purity, Hospitality, and Mortality by Richard Beck
Sometimes Facebook is so detrimental to my Christian vision. Post after post causes me to see how so many young, confessing Christian 20- and 30-somethings are getting so, I'll say it, domesticated; that is, their assuming the cultural position of comfort, upward mobility, adverse to risk, non-follow-through with prior Christian callings, "I believe this is what God wants for mes," and "God told mes" and now ready to settle for an ordinary life, heck an ordinary church-life. Striving for it actually. Don't get me wrong, I fully realize that an ordinary life is more in line with God's called will, but I mean here by "ordinary" is "what's socially and culturally expected" and "how can I raise a family unless . . .?" and just plain, fitting into the realm of American life and contemporary church-life. This somewhat saddens me . . . I keep thinking it must be hard to apply what John wrote in 1 John 2:15-17:
Hard to apply when it doesn't look like the world around the 20- and 30-somethings is passing away, but needs to be planned for for family, security, and eventually, retirement (a wholly unbiblical concept bytheway--sorry to all my good and faithful friends who are retired). I feel like we are living at a time somewhat like the king of Israel that was told destruction was coming, but humbled himself just enough to forestall judgement during his days and passed it on to his sons (when destruction did, eventually come). "O, Lord, just not in my days, let the destruction come, during another generation because its my turn, our turn to live and enjoy life." Two years ago, I listened to a former president of Crown College (my alma mater) answer the question: "What aren't we training our future Christian leaders that we should be training them for?" Without hesitation his answer: "We are not training them to endure persecution." As I have now turned 61 and heading into my last stretch, I am more and more realizing how lulled as Christians, we, especially the young, the up and coming Christian and church leaders, have become. How settled we are, planning, striving at being lulled. Just not in our generation, O Lord, not in ours. It's our turn to enjoy life.
![]() Living out, both as individuals and as a gathered-church, the Sermon of the Mount, should appear as a threat to the social and cultural status quo and to those invested in maintaining this status quo. As such, Sermon on the Mount living cannot help but challenge the way things are. Interestingly, in the Sermon on the Mount there is no mention of ranting on public platforms as the means to challenge the powers, no mention of protesting or boycotting, no calls for platforms to leverage any form of power, no voice nor stones–only light and salt (i.e., living in community, that is as church); rather we are not to practice our righteousness hypocritically for the applause and/or affirmation of others (and you don't get invited to be an A-list Christian speaker without that applause), not to judge, and are to do to others how you want to be treated (no matter how you are treated by them). Living out the Sermon on the Mount is meant for church, a social group whose allegiance is to the risen Lord Jesus, not to be attempted solo, for apart from the gospel at work in the flock of God, encouraging one another and loving one another, such living is impossible. The Sermon on the Mount is not possible for the State to legislate by law apart from granting power to some to enforce by forms of punishment and violence. Surprisingly we seem to be doing the opposite. We love the opposite, because we like power, whether the power of the crowd (i.e., the mob) or the power of platformed applause. Sermon on the Mount living is the opposite of power. And, we are impatient. Sermon on the Mount living demands patience. And, we trust our leverage and platforms. Sermon on the Mount living calls for extraordinary, faithful trust in God's ability to work in the affairs of humankind, and thus to be often hidden and away from the applause of others. It is no wonder that the first two book volumes produced by the church were on "Patience" (i.e., Tertullian and Cyprian). No one, especially Jesus, said this Sermon on the Mount living is easy. This is why the gate is narrow to this life, the life imagined by the Beatitudes. We, as church and, especially, our individual elite-celebrity Christians, seek to use the wide and broad way (judging, law and thus State enforced punishment and retaliation, encouraging hatred and others to judge, and non-forgiveness, and the building of power and leverage (the complete opposite of the Sermon on the Mount), which leads to destruction. And just in case we didn't get that the Sermon on the Mount is actually God's word to his church, we are to build on the Rock of this Word and not the sands shifting power. God, forgive me for not living out the Sermon on the Mount and for being all too willing to call the church and other Christians to live out the wide and broad way to get our way in this world. *Check out as a part of this thread, Matthew 6:1-18 as a reflection on the Beatitudes >> Click Here
|
AuthorChip M. Anderson, advocate for biblical social action; pastor of an urban church plant in the Hill neighborhood of New Haven, CT; husband, father, author, former Greek & NT professor; and, 19 years involved with social action. Archives
February 2024
Categories
All
|
Pages |
More Pages |
|