Randy Thompson: Jesus Christ or Jesus Caesar?

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Note from CM: We’ll reflect on Ash Wednesday tomorrow, after I return home. Thanks to Randy Thompson for helping out with today’s post.

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Jesus Christ or Jesus Caesar?
An Open Letter to Senator Ted Cruz

“Just spend a minute, saying, ‘Father God, please continue this awakening, continue this spirit of revival,’ Cruz said. ‘Awaken the body of Christ to pull us back from the abyss.'”

• Senator Ted Cruz, at Crossing Life Church, Windham, NH
Reported by WMUR-TV News, Manchester, NH

February 2, 2016

Dear Senator:

Clearly, you are a man of prayer, and that is a good and honorable and God-pleasing thing to be. Likewise, it is a worthy and noble thing to pray for one’s country, especially if one believes that one’s country is at the brink of the abyss and about to fall in.

Honestly, I have no problem with your concern about the abyss, although I’m not sure we would completely agree on what, exactly, the abyss is, and why we’re on the brink of it. However, I’m writing you about another matter, a problem I have, Senator, which I hope you can shed some light on. You see, it appears to me that you are running not so much for the Presidency of the United States, but to become its Messiah.

Recently, at one of your rallies here in New Hampshire, at a church in Windham, you began to pray and encouraged those present to pray with you or for you, I’m not sure which, and what you asked them to pray bothered me. Specifically, you asked everyone to pray that “this awakening” would continue, and that God would continue this “spirit of revival.”  Now, forgive me if I’m missing something here, but I got the distinct impression that the awakening you referred to was not what Jonathan Edwards or George Whitefield would understand by that term. Nor was the revival you mentioned the yearly event that good Baptists know and love.  Rather, the awakening and revival you wish God to continue and people to pray for is your presidential campaign.

That, Senator, is my problem. And, I believe, it’s a big problem because it’s a spiritual problem. Because you are a godly man and presumably not indifferent to spiritual problems, especially of a political sort, let me explain why I believe this is a big deal.

I suspect you have a pretty good idea of where I’m going here. I’m sure my remark about your running to be the country’s Messiah tipped you off. To put it simply, I believe it is a dangerous thing to blur the distinction between the Kingdom of God and any nation state, including the United States. No matter how exceptional America might be, it is not the Kingdom of God. Because of this, your candidacy is not an “awakening” or a “revival” as those terms are commonly understood by American Evangelicals. “Revival” centers either on a spontaneous surge of enthusiasm for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, or it is an attempt to ignite such an enthusiasm. Either way, it focuses on spiritual rebirth centered on the person of Christ. To tell people in an Evangelical church, that they should pray for “this awakening” and “this revival” to continue is to subtly change the meaning of these words. As you used these terms. “awakening” refers to a surge in the polls of your candidacy, and “revival” refers to the enthusiasm among your followers that accompanies such a surge. God’s favor and God’s blessing are being invoked here, and I’m left with the sense that the awakening and the revival to which you refer is an awakening and a revival of the Gospel of Ted Cruz.

Please know that I’m not saying that this is your intent.  On the contrary, I think you’re too bright and too theologically astute to go down that road. However, you are doing politics using a religious vocabulary, and I think that is a dangerous thing to do, for I fear that you are making it easier to for many people to confuse being a citizen of heaven with being a citizen of the U.S, or, God forbid, the opposite, confusing United States citizenship with being a citizen of God’s heavenly Kingdom. People have a hard enough time as it is keeping Augustine’s Kingdoms separate in their thinking, and you aren’t helping them, to say the least.

This is a big deal to me because I believe there’s a huge difference not between you and Jesus, but between Jesus Christ and Jesus Caesar. Jesus Christ creates Christians. Jesus Caesar creates other Caesars, who then return the favor by re-creating Jesus in their own image. Jesus tends to stay relevant and current this way, trotted out when needed to give legitimacy to all political causes. The Liberal Protestant bureaucrats of the mainline churches trot out Jesus to legitimate progressive agendas and leaders, and have done so for decades. Maybe inspired by Jesus’ usefulness in this way, Conservative Evangelicals are now doing the same thing.  Over the decades, Christian people have demonstrated an astounding aptitude for accommodating Jesus to wildly diverse political agendas.

And then there’s you, apparently now the anointed centerpiece of an “awakening” and a “revival” of this old time Jesus Caesar religion. Senator, do you remember the “German Christians”?  Alarmed by the perceived decadence of German culture after the World War I, upset by social and economic upheavals of the 1920’s and 30’s, and fearful of Communism, they found that Jesus Caesar wore a little mustache  and talked a lot about the need for strong leadership. Sound familiar? I know that you do not wear a mustache and don’t expect people to greet you with an upraised arm salute, but do you see what happens when people confuse heaven and earth, God’s Kingdom and earthly kingdoms?  The earthly kingdoms get delusions of spiritual grandeur, they become intolerably self-righteous, and then do horrible things to folks who don’t share their “righteousness.”

You have strong convictions. I may or may not agree with them, but having thought-out, prayed-about convictions is a good thing, provided you hold them with a humble, gentle, and listening heart. (You have prayed about what you believe, right? Just curious, but has God made any suggestions? Has he pointed out any Scripture passages? If so, I’d love to know what they are. But, no out-of-context, cheap fundamentalist proof-texting, please. That only works with fundamentalists.)

You have strong convictions. (Sorry, but I got carried away in that last paragraph, so here we go again.) But, convictions become something scary and dangerous when they are rooted in self-righteous delusions of grandeur where God shows up so He can be on your side.

Senator, if you are elected president, the Kingdom of God will not  arrive on inauguration day.

There will be no gay people dancing in the streets because they are now ex-gays.

The global conspiracy of climate scientists to promote global warming in order to increase government regulation and expand Federal bureaucracy will continue, with melting glaciers making this conspiracy all the more plausible.

We will not magically have clean air and water because you abolish the Environmental Protection Agency.

You’ll bomb the hell out of ISIS, only to discover that ISIS is like a deadly virus, and your bombing has spread the virus all over the civilized world, or what passes for it.

Bernie Sanders will still be one of the senators from Vermont, and there will still be a lot of people who admire him. (There’s a lot to like about Bernie, by the way; he’s a likeable guy. You really ought to get to know him.  He has some interesting ideas, and they seem to be his, not God’s, although God has a way of surprising us in such matters. If he ends up getting elected president, I have a letter in mind for him as well. While I’m thinking about it, I wish you’d work at being more likeable, like he is. Just a suggestion.)

No, the Kingdom of God will not have arrived. You’ll take the oath of office on a big Bible, but it will be Jesus Caesar center stage among the celebrities, not Jesus Christ.

If you’ve read this far, Senator, I admire and respect your perseverance. I realize I’ve been a bit snippy here and there, but I hope gently so. If I hurt your feelings in any way, please know I didn’t intend to do so. Nor did I intend to insult you as a person, although I musts confess that I find some of your ideas worth insulting. I dare say you might well say the same about me.

It’s indeed fortunate that God is love, and is bigger than both of us, isn’t it?

If I may, let me close with a Bible reference. As you know, the Gospels of Matthew and Luke tell the story of Jesus being tempted in the desert by the devil. One temptation in particular stands out, and I think it’s worth thinking about.

The devil offers Jesus the whole world if he will only bow down and worship the devil. This temptation consists of taking over the world and doing so on the world’s terms. One can take over the world in only one way, and that is through power.  The Roman emperors used military power. But, politics is a means of gaining power too. The idea is, if we can get enough votes and enough allies, then we have power to accomplish our purposes. If we get enough money we can buy the best propaganda and influence the most people, and so we gain power to accomplish our purposes. Such is the logic and wisdom of the world. And you know what? It really does make sense. Except, Jesus didn’t think so.

What is most important about this story of the temptation of Jesus is that Jesus says no to the devil and to power. He takes a pass on conquering the world so he could do “good,” which too often turns out to be something delayed further and further into the future. You see, getting power is only the first step. You then have to hold on to it, and holding on to it is tricky business, requiring deal-making and compromises, where the good you intended to do ends up the good intentions paving the road to hell. Jesus said no to the whole package.

Instead this Jesus who taught that the poor, meek, hungry, and mournful are blessed, emptied himself, took on the form of a servant, went to the cross, and offered his life to death. Instead of doing something practical, like Jesus Caesar might, he did something supremely impractical that demonstrated that he was indeed Jesus the Christ. He chose death on a cross.

Contrary to all expectations, by giving all and losing, he won. And not only that, God, his Father, was pleased. Enough so, that He not only raised Jesus from the dead but set him over all earthly powers as well.

That’s good enough for me. A Jesus who strives for power ends up being just another Caesar. A Jesus who dies demonstrates that he loves me. God’s raising him from the dead demonstrates that God is present, and that God loves not only His Son, but me too. What the world needs isn’t political victories and victors, but a people who know that the only sane way of living is to lose one’s life for Christ and thereby gain it, who know that there is a love surpassing knowledge that Caesar cannot understand or offer, but which Jesus Christ can.

And, Senator, if there is to be an awakening or a revival, let’s have one with Jesus at the center of it, OK?

La Mer

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We’ll resume our Tuesday “Civil Religion” series next week.

I’ve been taking a few days of R & R down in Florida and thought I’d share a few pics with you today. These have not been through final editing, but I think you’ll get the idea of how beautiful and refreshing these days have been. Click on the thumbnails below to see larger images.

Photos were taken at Clearwater Beach, Honeymoon Island, and Caladesi Island, Florida’s Gulf Coast. The weather has been cool and windy, but the beaches were glorious for taking long walks.

Nothing clears my head and restores my spirit like the ocean.

Ah, ma bien-aimée mer, it has been far too long.

Mondays with Michael Spencer: February 8, 2016

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This is part four in a series of iMonk posts that Michael wrote back in 2006. We have edited them and now present them each Monday. His subject was “the sermon,” and the series was called “What’s Wrong with the Sermon?” Here is Michael’s explanation of the approach he took:

In this series of posts I will be examining the sermon as it is currently done in evangelicalism. My method will be a bit backwards. I am going to examine the most frequent criticisms of sermons — something I hear all the time from my peers and student listeners — and see if there is truth in the criticisms.

Past posts:
• Part 1: The sermon’s too long
• Part 2: The sermon’s boring
Part 3: The sermon — I don’t understand it

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Roberts Pk UMC Windows 3What’s wrong with the sermon?
(4) The sermon — it isn’t practical

To gain some idea of the state of contemporary preaching, survey what is being preached at any ten successful megachurches in your state, or any ten churches who very much want to become megachurches in the future. Compare these sermons to the sermons of any group of “great preachers” of the past, or well-known expositional, exegetical preachers today.

The differences are more than just pronounced; they are stunning. Aside from the fact that someone is talking, it can easily appear that these sermons have no similarity to one another at all.

There will be many differences. Length. Titles. Use of illustrations. Theological depth. Use of the Bible. The effect of technology. Foremost, however, among the observed differences will be the focus on “practical,” “How-to” messages in contemporary churches. Contemporary preaching, especially in the successful megachurches that are populating the western landscape, has become primarily focused on “practical,” “How to be” and “How to do” messages.

Many of these practical sermons are the heart of a church’s appeal to its seeker, market driven, target audience. These would include sermons on how to be a successful parent, how to deal with stress, how to find a mate or have a happy marriage, how to manage money, how achieve goals and so on. The similarity of these messages to the titles of self-help books or the results of surveys on “what would you like to hear at church” is no accident. Today’s practical preaching is very intentional in its approach, and what is successful in one church will be mass produced- right down to the illustrations and outlines- for hundreds, even thousands, of other preachers.

The New Testament is a practical book. It is a discipleship-oriented book. Jesus taught his disciples through an intensive kind of training that covered “how to pray”, “how to enter a community and minister”, and “how to cast out demons.” Christianity has always valued spiritual guidance, mentoring and practical wisdom. The premise of wisdom literature- and especially Proverbs- is the practical nature of the Godly life.

So I am not at all surprised that there is a recovery of a concern for practical discipleship and application. In many ways, this recovery is necessary, healthy and welcome. Somewhere in any church, there should be someone talking about these “real life” issues. The New Testament’s pastoral letters, both in their description of the qualifications of leadership and in their admonitions about general church life, assume this level of teaching is going on.

One might even suggest that Paul’s pastoral ministry had fallen short of the ideal because of the fact that he had to spend so much time going back over practical matters with his young churches. Look, for example, at how much time is spent in the discussion of whether to eat meat offered to idols. Much of that discussion sounds very familiar to anyone who has been around young Christians. It is the “how far can I go?” and “what can I do?” questions that are the focus of so many practical sermons today.

One of the most important lessons that I learned in my New Testament studies concerned two different kinds of material in the text. The first was kerygma, or proclamation. This was the “Biblical story” told with a focus on Jesus as messiah and Lord. It is what we see particularly in the book of Acts, and it is what Paul is often referring back to when he is talking to churches in his epistles and reminds them of what they heard from him (or others) when they were converted.

The second type of material was didache, or instruction. This is the teaching material that we find primarily in the epistles and the gospels. It is not a proclamation of the Biblical story, but application and practical teaching regarding life lived as a Christian. (Sometime I need to write why the term “Christian Life” is singularly unhelpful.)

But if we examine “didache,” we discover something interesting about the connection of application to the Biblical story. Look, for example, at Colossians 3:1-17, one of the greatest of the New Testament application passages.

Col. 3:1 If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. 3 For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your* life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.
Col. 3:5 Put to death therefore what is earthly in you:* sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. 6 On account of these the wrath of God is coming.* 7 In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. 8 But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. 9 Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self* with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. 11 Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
Col. 3:12 Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, 13 bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. 14 And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. 15 And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. 16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. 17 And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

What is easily discernible to any student is the fact that didache is a subset of Kerygma; application is a continuation of the proclamation. The practical and the theological/doctrinal are not separable. The life Paul describes is a direct result of understanding the exaltation and ascension of Jesus. It is a continuation of the Biblical story into the lives of Jesus’ followers.

It is also plain that didache isn’t ANY kind of practical advice. It is teaching specifically focused on the life that belongs to Jesus. It isn’t about getting a better parking space as a sign of God’s favor. It is about being a light in the world so that Christ is evidenced and glorified.

The implications for preaching are obvious, I believe. There are two errors lurking here. One is to ignore the practical in favor of the theological and doctrinal. The other is to allow the practical to consume the message without reference to the Biblical story.

Practical preaching that isn’t related to the bigger picture of God, the Gospel, Grace and the Kingdom of God becomes a an encouragement to moralism rather than a connection to Jesus. A steady diet of application without the theological context of the Bible’s own emphasis on the story of Jesus risks creating a church centered around values and behavior; pragmatism and concerns of the “culture war.” That was the program of the Pharisees, and Jesus not only opposed it; he was amazed at its shallowness.

Much Christian “worldview” preaching runs the risk of displacing the Gospel with applications, and often with applications that leave a Bible student scratching his head and turning pages.

I would suggest that practical, “How to” preaching, no matter what form it takes, has an appropriate place in the total Christian approach to preaching. Here the Puritans were good guides. Their sermons were purposely structured to be theological in a first movement, and applicatory and practical in the closing movements.

Practical preaching that strategizes the use of “how to” messages to gain the interest of seekers runs a serious risk of removing the contextual content of the Christian story, and an even more serious risk of pandering and deception. Those of us who listen to the modern seeker preachers and wonder if the Gospel has been displaced and obscured by accident or on purpose probably have an answer: this is an attempt to gain a hearing by moving what most needs to be heard down the list, and moving what people want to hear up the list.

I am more concerned with the message that exists between the lines of “practical” preaching: the message that God is about making our lives “better”. Is it the Biblical message that we have secret, practical knowledge others don’t have? Are our marriages always better? Are our children happier and more obedient? Do we have better finances and less stress? These implied “outcomes” are serious departures from the Bible’s message.

In fact, loyalty to Jesus has the frequent result of causing temporal difficulty. We may have less money and more stress. If our family is not the typical Christian family, we may have family conflict. Jesus predicted all of this in unmistakable detail. Paul’s career as a missionary apostle was highlighted with suffering, trouble, rejection, burdens, risks and losses. It was all worth it for Christ’s sake and for the sake of the church, but Paul was not telling anyone the message of Joel Osteen’s Your Best Life Now.

Many of today’s practical preachers are more than subtly influenced by the prosperity Gospel and the secular motivational speakers and gurus. The similarity between many of these presentations and Oprah Winfrey is not accidental. The problem can be stated simply: Some preachers will preach whatever they know will attract a crowd, and the secular world offers a constant array of tactics to gain that crowd.

One must almost admire the sheer, unmitigated greed of men like Joel Osteen in completely abandoning the Gospel and appealing directly to the desire of Americans for money, houses and success. His nationwide following attests to the power of preaching prosperity rather than Christ. One must also say that if Paul’s admonitions to Timothy to faithfully preach the Gospel of Christ are the Word and will of God, then men like Osteen are defying the Almighty right down to the specifics.

Practical preaching need not go down this dead end. There is a place for the didache. There is a place for application. There is a place to talk about life and the many problems human beings face.

But the proclamation of the Gospel is always an announcement of the story of Jesus, and the implications- be they practical or not- must be seen in the light of Jesus. When Jesus promised his followers “life abundant”, we must affirm that Jesus’ own example shows us what the abundant life looks like in this world where Jesus turns everything upside down.

We don’t define abundant life with cultural definitions. Jesus defines that life. That’s why he can ask a rich man to sell it all and follow him. He knows what is real life and what isn’t.

God’s people need practical instruction. They need it wedded to the “cost of discipleship” and the Lordship/example of Christ. “Seekers” may need to hear many things, and the church may find a way to be helpful and serve people with classes and instruction, but to those without Christ our primary ministry and message must be the Gospel itself. That is not to say that the Gospel must be the subject of everything we do as Christians, but it is to say that whatever we do, teach or preach, it must be the Gospel that brings everything else into focus, and gives significance to whatever we are doing.

RPUMC window 3Suggestions for preachers:

1. There is a strong temptation to imitate the “how to” preachers who are drawing larger crowds by talking about things other than the Gospel. Be faithful. Preach Christ. At the same time, be clear that Christ redeems everything, and there are applications of our faith to every kind of situation and problem.

2. Follow the example of the Puritans in putting specific applications either into your message or accessible in handouts or web sites. (No, the Puritans didn’t use web sites, but it sounds cool.) There is nothing commendable about impractical preaching, and we must not overreact to the errors around us by committing another error ourselves by offering little or no application.

3. Remember that you may be able to have several sermons with different emphasis; some more theological and some more practical. This could also be done with follow-up in small groups. Marriage, for example, is a subject where specific application should never be ignored, because the scripture puts practical application and theological foundations together.

4. Remember to help your people see their problems and concerns in the true light of the Gospel. The Bible has principles for parents, but its message of universal sin and depravity makes it clear that we can expect our children to act like sinners. The temptation of many good Christians is to believe that “principles” from the Bible will provide insurance or a way to “fix” what is broken. (I see this everyday as people bring their children to our school and say that they can be fixed by religion.) The Gospel is about loving a wayward child more than it is about insuring there are no wayward children. In other words, much practical preaching simply ignores the true implications of the Gospel that may involve suffering with God in a fallen world.

5. “How to ” messages are famous for simplifying what is not simple. There is no way for a marriage to succeed with 5 or 8 or 10 “Simple” steps. This is a particular kind of American idolatry that the church should be busy rejecting. The Gospel makes us into people who see and follow Christ. It is not a collection of “how to” steps. The Christian publishing industry has often put Christian authors into the category of “inspirational” messages. We should remember that salvation is not a matter of knowing some “inspirational” thoughts to help us get through the day.

6. Preaching practical topics may be an occasion where some in a congregation find much fault with a preacher for not being as practical as other sources of “inspiration.” The preacher may feel inadequate, or feel that he is letting down his congregation by not being more helpful. If this motivates the preacher to provide more practical resources and to think in practical terms for subjects such as prayer, family devotions and the use of money, then good can come from those concerns.

7. Many preachers are reluctant to preach practical application because their own house is not in order. They do not talk about the devotional life because they do not have one. They do not talk about money because they are up to their necks in credit card debt. They do not do application on marriage because theirs in in desperate straits. If this is the case, then it is the pastor who needs the Gospel and practical discipleship, beginning with honesty, repentance and restoration.

8. Applicatory preaching is an invitation to pastoral care. When we begin to apply the faith, our people will come to us with their problems. There is no escaping this. Our people are not as good as they look. All is not as well as it appears on Sunday morning. Some preachers do not come “down to earth” because it is in those earthly valleys that real hurt and complex human brokenness dwells. We should not complain if our people turn to other “healers” if our presentation of the Word heals them lightly or not at all.

Christianity is a both practical and highly impractical. God’s wisdom and the answer of the Gospel to our dilemmas are not in the same category as the human wisdom many want when insisting on “practical” preaching. The greatest error is to ever move away from Christ and his Gospel by emphasizing what we can or should do over what God has done for us in Christ.

At the same time, we should ask “How does this look in real life?” Paul’s letters are full of practical instruction, and this is often neglected by preachers who are more comfortable in the more theological parts of the Bible. If the theological, the Biblical and the practical are properly related in a congregation, that church will produce disciples who know, confess and worship, but who also live, choose and follow.

The Gospel leads us to practical discipleship, but it doesn’t create a religion of simplistic success principles. Good preaching leads to practical application without obscuring the Gospel itself.

Epiphany V: An Introduction to Lent by Mark D. Roberts

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A reader wrote this week and asked for basic information about Ash Wednesday and the Lenten season. I couldn’t think of a better introduction than this piece by Mark D. Roberts, who blogs at Patheos.

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How Lent Can Make a Difference in Your Relationship with God
by Rev. Dr. Mark D. Roberts
Copyright © 2011 Mark D. Roberts and Patheos.com
Source: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/markdroberts/.

Introduction to Lent
Growing up as an evangelical Christian, I experienced Lent as little more than a joke. “What are you giving up for Lent?” my friends would ask. “Homework,” I’d say with a smirk, or “Obeying my parents.” Lent was one of those peculiar practices demanded of Roman Catholics – another great reason to be Protestant, I figured. It never even occurred to me that Lent was something I might actually be interested in, or benefit from, or decide to keep, or come to value as a way of getting to know God better. In the last fifteen years I’ve discovered that Lent is in fact recognized by millions of Protestant Christians, in addition to Catholic and Orthodox believers. (The Eastern Orthodox Lent is longer than the Catholic or Protestant Lent, and it begins before Ash Wednesday.) Lent (the word comes from the Middle English word for “spring”) is a six-week season in the Christian year prior to Easter. (Technically, Lent comprises the 40 days before Easter, not counting the Sundays, or 46 days in total.)

In the ancient church, Lent was a time for new converts to be instructed for baptism and for believers caught in sin to focus on repentance. In time, all Christians came to see Lent as a season to be reminded of their need for penitence and to prepare spiritually for the celebration of Easter. Part of this preparation involved the Lenten “fast,” giving up something special during the six weeks of Lent (but not on Sundays, in some traditions.) Historically, many Protestants rejected the practice of Lent, pointing out, truly, that it was nowhere required in Scripture. Some of these Protestants were also the ones who refused to celebrate Christmas, by the way. They wanted to avoid some of the excessive aspects of Catholic penitence that tended to obscure the gospel of grace. These Protestants saw Lent, at best, as something completely optional for believers, and, at worst, as a superfluous Catholic practice that true believers should avoid altogether.

A Pastoral Word: Let me note, at this point, that if you think of Lent as a season to earn God’s favor by your good intentions or good works, then you’ve got a theological problem. God’s grace has been fully given to us in Christ. We can’t earn it by doing extra things or by giving up certain other things in fasting. If you see Lent as a time to make yourself more worthy for celebrating Good Friday and Easter, then perhaps you shouldn’t keep the season until you’ve grown in your understanding of grace. If, on the contrary, you see Lent as a time to grow more deeply in God’s grace, then you’re approaching Lent from a proper perspective.

Some segments of Protestantism did continue to recognize a season of preparation for Easter, however. Their emphasis was not so much on penitence and fasting as on intentional devotion to God. Protestant churches sometimes added special Lenten Bible studies or prayer meetings so that their members would be primed for a deeper experience of Good Friday and Easter. Lent was a season to do something extra for God, not to give something up. After ignoring Lent for the majority of my life, I’ve paid more attention to it during the last two decades. Sometimes I’ve given up something, like watching television or eating sweets, in order to devote more time to Bible study and prayer. (The television fast was especially tough because I love watching March Madness, the NCAA basketball tournament, on TV.) Sometimes I’ve added extra devotional reading to my regular spiritual disciplines. I can’t claim to have had any mystical experiences during Lent, but I have found that fasting from something has helped me focus on God. It has also helped me to look ahead to Good Friday and Easter, thus appreciating more deeply the meaning of the cross and the victory of the resurrection. Before I began honoring Lent, Good Friday and Easter always seemed to rush by before I could give them the attention they deserved. Now I find myself much more ready to meditate upon the depth of Christ’s sacrifice and to celebrate his victory over sin and death on Easter. Let me be very clear: Lent is not a requirement for Christians. Dallas Willard has said that if a certain spiritual discipline helps you grow in God’s grace, then by all means do it. But if it doesn’t, don’t feel like you must do it. I’d say the same about Lent. If it helps you prepare for a deeper celebration of Good Friday and Easter, if it allows you to grow in God’s grace, then by all means keep it. If Lent isn’t your cup of tea, then don’t feel obligated to keep it. You should realize, however, that millions of Christians – Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, and Independent – have found that recognizing the season of Lent enriches our worship and deepens our faith in God. In my next post in this series I’ll consider some of the symbolism of Lent, and suggest some possible Lenten practices to help you keep the season.

Do You Have to Give Up Something for Lent? 
I grew up hearing about Catholics who had to fast during the season of Lent. No meat on Fridays, only fish. This, you must understand, was a costly sacrifice in the cafeteria of Glenoaks Elementary School! The fact that my Catholic friends had to give up decent food in Lent always seemed to me to be one more good reason to be a Protestant. (Photo: I expect that the Lent Promo at the Luby’s in Kerrville is much better than my elementary school’s cafeteria rations.) But, in the past fifteen years or so, I’ve sometimes decided to join my Catholic sisters and brothers in giving up something during Lent. This means, depending on how you count the days of Lent, fasting from something for about six weeks. (Officially in the Western world, Lent comprises the days from Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. But many traditions do not count the Sundays during this period as belonging to Lent. Thus Lent covers 46 days, but only 40 days belong to the Lenten fast.) People in my theological tradition (the Reformed tradition, pioneered by John Calvin) tend not to emphasize Lenten fasting. Partly this had to do with the conscious rejection of Roman Catholic practices that were not clearly based on Scripture. Lent is not prohibited in Scripture. But it isn’t taught there either. One can be a faithful, biblical Christian and never recognize Lent. So, in days gone by, many Reformed folk and other Protestants who wanted to make the season before Easter special in some way, chose instead to add a spiritual discipline to their lives as a way of preparing for Easter. It’s quite common today for churches that don’t have midweek Bible studies, for example, to offer a Lenten Wednesday Evening Study or something like this. Special Lenten spiritual retreats are also increasingly common in Protestant in addition to Roman Catholic circles. But fasting still plays a prominent role in Lenten practices of many Christians across the denominational and theological spectrum. Throughout church history there have been different kinds of Lenten fasts. Nobody, to my knowledge, expected anyone to give up all food for the whole season. In the Middle Ages it was common for Christians to give up certain sorts of food, like meat and/or dairy products, for example. This explains why, in my youth, Catholics abstained from meat on the Fridays of Lent. Many Catholics still observe this discipline. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, the Lenten fast is taken even more seriously than in the Roman Catholic church, with many Orthodox folk eating vegetarian meals during the season.

In recent years I have sometimes given up something in Lent, perhaps chocolate or watching television. The latter was particularly hard because I enjoy college basketball, and March Madness (the NCAA bastketball tournament) always falls in the middle of Lent. This year I have decided to give up something I enjoy. I’ve also adopted an additional daily spiritual discipline. It don’t think it would be appropriate for me to speak in detail about what I’m doing at this time. But I would like to share some reflections on what I’ve been learning through my version of a Lenten fast.

Morn Fields 2 altWhat I’ve Learned by Fasting During Lent 
First, giving up something allows me to make a tangible sacrifice to the Lord. Although certain sacrifices are already present in my life, they’re sort of “built in” at this point. I don’t often experience giving up something for God on a daily basis. The act of sacrifice reminds me of my commitment to God and my desire to make him first in my life. Second, by giving up something I usually enjoy on a daily basis, I have sometimes found myself yearning for that thing. Frankly, I’ve been tempted to give up my Lenten fast at times. I could easily argue that it’s unnecessary (it is optional, after all) and certainly not taught in Scripture. But, though I don’t think my effort at fasting makes God love or bless me more, I do think it raises my awareness of how much I depend on other things in life rather than the Lord. I see how easy it is for me to set up all sorts of little idols in my life. Fasting, in some way, helps me surrender my idols to God. Third, when I give up something I like and then feel an unquenched desire for it, I’m reminded of my neediness as a person. And neediness, I believe, is at the heart of true spirituality. Jesus said:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. . . . Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
• Matthew 5:3, 6

Of course feeling hungry for one of life’s pleasures isn’t quite the same as hungering and thirsting for righteousness. But when I feel my hunger, when I sense my neediness for some other thing, I can use this to get in touch with my hunger and need for God. Fourth, as I continue with my Lenten fast, I find myself less eager for the thing I’ve given up. Ironically, this makes my fast easier. It’s almost something I can take for granted, thus dulling the spiritual impact of the fast. But I’m also gratified to know that one of my little “idols” is being set aside in my heart, as I learn to depend more upon God. I’m experiencing a bit of freedom that makes me gladly thankful for God’s grace at work in me.

Adding a Lenten Discipline
Instead of or in addition to fasting during Lent, you might add a spiritual exercise or discipline to your life. If your church sponsors a Lenten Bible study, you might choose to join this study. Or you may want to participate in some act of kindness, such as feeding people at a homeless shelter. I like to add something that I can do every day. It needs to be realistic, given my nature and patterns of life. So, for example, it would be a bad idea if I decided to get up at 5:00 a.m. to pray for an hour each day of Lent. This would stretch me so far that I’d surely fail. But I could take on additional Bible reading. Some years I’ve read one chapter of a gospel each day of Lent, taking it in slowly and meditating upon it. Other years I’ve used a Lenten devotional to focus my thought. If you have no idea what to do during Lent, let me suggest the following. Set aside some time of quiet to as the Lord what he wants you to do. See if the Spirit of God guides you to something. If nothing comes to mind, I’d recommend that you read a chapter of a gospel each day. If you start with Mark, you’ll have time to read all of Mark plus all of one other gospel during Lent. Perhaps some of my readers would like to suggest Lenten disciplines that they have tried in the past, and how they have experienced God’s grace through these exercises. So, as we enter the season of Lent, I am grateful for the saints who have gone before me, some of whom discovered the blessings of giving up something in Lent, while others grew in their faith by adding a Lenten discipline. No matter what you do during this Lenten season, I pray that God will draw us closer to him, and prepare us for a fresh experience of Good Friday and Easter. May God’s peace be with You!

Saturday Ramblings: February 6, 2016 – Superb Owl Edition

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Gail and I are taking our classy red and white Metropolitan to the airport this morning for a little sky rambling down to Clearwater, Florida to snatch a few days of R&R.

I hear there’s a big football game on the other coast this weekend and we’ll probably watch it. Being from Indianapolis, we have a fond spot in our hearts for Peyton Manning, who may be playing the last game of his remarkable career. We wish him well, and hope most of all for a good game.

Since it will be the 50th edition of this game (which is only allowed to be mentioned by name by those with the correct corporate licensing), we know this “Superb Owl” will be a spectacular extravaganza of an affair, with a halftime event on the scale of the Olympic opening ceremonies. As always, we’ll keep an eye out for the best commercials. And we’ll be most grateful to have something to talk about besides the election year.

Most of all, I’m excited that fresh seafood and salt air will be on the menu at the Superb Owl buffet this year!

Time to ramble!

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sports_nflmore01Gotta start with the commercials, right?

We are told that a 30-second advertisement for Superb Owl 50 is selling for as much as $5 million this year, and here are a few of the teasers that have been released. We start with a T-Mobile ad that references some of the best known ads of the previous 49 years.

How many can you spot?

Amazon will be in on the fun, with ads featuring the Amazon Echo starring Alec Baldwin (and including a nice dig at Tom Brady).

And, as we all know, beer is the engine that drives American sports. I’m sure there will be loads of ads for it. Here’s the smart-alecky Shock-Top commercial for Superb Owl 50:


sports_nflmore01How many times have I wanted to do this!

From the Miami Herald:

Cop-CarIt unfolded like a routine Miami traffic stop: a car pulled over for speeding, followed by a stern lecture on responsible driving and traffic safety. The alleged offender questioned whether he was really speeding but, thinking it best to move on, apologized and promised to slow down.

Now for the twist: it was the police officer accused of speeding. And he was pulled over by a civilian.

The scene played out in three cellphone videos posted on YouTube Friday by someone named Claudia Castillo, who identified herself as the driver. Filmed from the driver’s seat, the videos chronicle her pursuit of a Miami-Dade police squad car and the unidentified officer at the wheel.

“The reason I pulled you over today,” the woman said to the officer after he walked back and leaned his head into her open passenger-side window, “is because I saw you, since Miller Drive when you were first jumping onto the Palmetto, and you were pushing 90 miles an hour.”

…“I just wanted to know: what’s the emergency,” she said as she filmed the officer.

“Um, I don’t know how fast I was going,” the officer said. “But I can tell you this: I’m on my way to work right now. I don’t believe I was speeding.”

He said he only pulled over because he thought the car chasing him had an emergency of its own. “Everything fine?” the officer asked.

“Everything’s fine,” the woman replied. “It’s your speeding.”

With that, the officer opted not to fight the speeding charge. “Well, then I apologize,” he said. “I’ll be sure to slow down then.”

That wasn’t quite the end of it. The officer asked if she wanted his name or badge. “No,” she said. “It’s just that I think that we all should set an example.”

“I agree,” the officer replied. “Take care. Be safe.”

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After Iowa, increased scrutiny on Ted Cruz…

John Fea, whose book is one that we are using in our Tuesdays series on Civil Religion, has written an article in the Washington Post, exploring presidential candidate Ted Cruz’s “domininionist” Christian vision for America.

When Cruz says he wants to “reclaim” or “restore” America, he does not only have the Obama administration in mind. This agenda takes him much deeper into the American past. Cruz wants to “restore” the United States to what he believes is its original identity: a Christian nation.

But before he can bring the country back to its Christian roots, Cruz needs to prove that Christian ideals were indeed important to the American founding. That is why he has David Barton on his side.

For several decades Barton has been a GOP activist with a political mission to make the United States a Christian nation again. He runs “Keep the Promise,” a multimillion-dollar Cruz super-PAC. He’s one of Cruz’s most trusted advisers.

Barton is the founder and president of WallBuilders, a Christian ministry based in his hometown of Aledo, Texas. He writes books and hosts radio and television shows designed to convince evangelicals and anyone else who will listen that America was once a Christian nation and needs to be one again.

…Barton’s work is an important part of Cruz’s larger theological and political campaign to take back America. If Barton can prove that the United States was once a Christian republic, then Cruz will have the historical argument he needs to sustain his narrative of American decline.

Cruz wants Americans to believe the country has fallen away from its spiritual founding and he, with God’s help, is the man who can bring it back.

Foundation of sand, and one shouldn’t trust the building, right?

Apparently, Cruz is scary enough to people like former President Jimmy Carter, that he told the British House of Lords he’d rather have Donald Trump, if it came down to it.

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sports_nflmore01I respect Russell Moore, who in my view has taken a number of eminently sensible positions on various issues as president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, the political arm of the Southern Baptist Convention. And even when I disagree with him, I find him to be agreeable rather than abrasive.

But now Jonathan Merritt has raised the question: “Does Russell Moore really represent Southern Baptists?”

As president of the ERLC, he has refused to budge on cornerstone conservative positions such as opposition to gay marriage and abortion, but his approach is noticeably different from that of his predecessor. His rhetoric is more winsome, his positions are more nuanced, and his statements are often laced with pop-culture references.

But Moore has also taken surprising positions on other issues, even placing himself at odds with some of his fellow conservatives. To wit:

  • The ERLC hosted a 2014 conference on homosexuality that reasserted the organization’s opposition to LGBT marriage and same-sex relationships. But at the conference, Moore denounced ex-gay therapy, which has been widely discredited due to its ineffectiveness and the psychological damage it causes participants.
  • In the 2015 debate over whether the confederate battle flag should be removed from the grounds of the South Carolina Capitol, conservatives in the South were conflicted. Moore was not: “Let’s take down that flag,” he wrote.
  • At a Southern Baptist missions conference last summer, Moore interviewed some of the leading Republican presidential candidates. Some conservatives were upset that Southern Baptists Mike Huckabee and Ted Cruz were not invited, while Hillary Clinton, a Methodist, was (though she declined).
  • When many conservatives called for a boycott of all Syrian refugees to the U.S., Moore signed a letter asking Congress to “reject damaging changes to the U.S. refugee resettlement system that would cause the life-saving program to grind to a halt.”
  • Most recently, Moore has opposed Donald Trump’s bid for president. Moore did so in the opinion pages of The New York Times and on social media, among other places. Recent polls indicate that a third or more of white evangelicals support Trump — more than any other candidate.

In the end, Jonathan Merritt thinks most Southern Baptists may appreciate and support Moore and his new-fangled ways. Nevertheless, they’re not called “Battlin’ Baptists” for nothing. The road will never be smooth for anyone who speaks for this diverse group of independent-minded and opinionated people.

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sports_nflmore01Lent begins this week.

The penitential season starts on Ash Wednesday, Feb. 10. Western Christians around the world will participate in several weeks of spiritual reflection and discipline in preparation for Holy Week and the Easter feast.

But Pope Francis reminds us that all the discipline, sacrifice, and “giving up” in the world won’t mean a thing if it doesn’t lead to serving others.

Pope Francis has asked us to reconsider the heart of this activity [fasting] this Lenten season. According to Francis, fasting must never become superficial. He often quotes the early Christian mystic John Chrysostom who said: “No act of virtue can be great if it is not followed by advantage for others. So, no matter how much time you spend fasting, no matter how much you sleep on a hard floor and eat ashes and sigh continually, if you do no good to others, you do nothing great.”

…So, if we’re going to fast from anything this Lent, Francis suggests that even more than candy or alcohol, we fast from indifference towards others.

In his annual Lenten message, the pope writes, “Indifference to our neighbor and to God also represents a real temptation for us Christians. Each year during Lent we need to hear once more the voice of the prophets who cry out and trouble our conscience.”

Describing this phenomenon he calls the globalization of indifferenceFrancis writes that “whenever our interior life becomes caught up in its own interests and concerns, there is no longer room for others, no place for the poor. God’s voice is no longer heard, the quiet joy of his love is no longer felt, and the desire to do good fades.” He continues that, “We end up being incapable of feeling compassion at the outcry of the poor, weeping for other people’s pain, and feeling a need to help them, as though all this were someone else’s responsibility and not our own.”

sports_nflmore01That means, of course, that Tuesday is Fat Tuesday, or Mardi Gras — a day of feasting, frivolity, and fun before the long penitential Lenten journey.

One thing we don’t often think about is how all the Mardi Gras reveling affects the kiddos. Thanks to the New Orleans Moms Blog, now we know. Go there to see fourteen more examples of what kids are saying about this adults-only day.

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sports_nflmore01And now, a bit of baptismal joy. Here’s a wonderful report of a recent baptism in the Jordan River from an Anglican pastor.

I love this story! It’s spontaneous, delightful, and spiritually encouraging.

DSC00901 (1)A surprise baptism at the original site of the Lord’s baptism  (Mark 1) created an international incident yesterday…and a glimpse of the age to come.  Here is what happened.
I am leading a tour of 30 adults through the Holy Land. Our bus pulled up to the newly renovated site commemorating the Lord’s baptism by John.  It is also the place where Joshua crossed over the Jordan into the Promised Land. It is called Qasr el Yahud.

I led our group in a very Anglican-style service of the renewal of vows.  In other words, people only would get “slightly wet”; bits of the water from the Jordan would be sprinkled on their heads. I prayed over 29 of the 30 pilgrims words that would recall the vows and promises they made or that were made for them years earlier: “Remember that you are baptized in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”  Then I would anointed their head with a dab of oil and say, “Remember that you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”

That is what was planned…and it seemed to be going very, shall we say, liturgically. But at the end of the proper service one man from our group came forward and said, “I want to be baptized; I have never been baptized and I want to be today.”

I looked at him and asked him if he could agree with the vows and promises of a Christian.  Would he renounce the world, the flesh, and the devil and turn to Jesus Christ as his Savior; and promise to follow and obey him as Lord?  He said, “Yes.” And I said, “Let’s do it!” I told him to take off his shoes and his sweatshirt. As I took my off shoes he said, ‘Why don’t you just let me get in by myself? I don’t want you to get wet.”  I said, “No one is ever baptized alone. I’m going with you.”  And with that, the two of us got into the frigid, muddy water.

Without hesitation, he broke the formalism of our Anglican style liturgy and rolled himself in under the cold water. He was totally immersed.  He sprung up from the water heaving in and out with deep breaths; he went ‘all in’ under the water.

The moment he came up, a group of nuns from Lebanon and Egypt who were standing on the opposite shore of the river…in Jordan…another country… not 10 yards away…began cheering and singing Amazing Grace.  We joined them in singing.  We all realized that we were part of a spectacle we would never forget. Christians from around the world separated into two countries by a river, but joined together in Christ over that same river as one brother came into the fellowship of our common Lord who had been also baptized in that same river.   One man went under the water of baptism and when he emerged, a cloud of witnesses from across the nations and over the world gave thanks to God.

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sports_nflmore01FINALLY, this week in music

On this week of the big game and the big party on Tuesday, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather hear than some classic New Orleans jazz, and no one represents NOLA better than Satchmo himself, Mr. Louis Armstrong. A poor boy from a rough neighborhood in New Orleans, Armstrong grew up to become one of the most beloved musicians of the 20th century.

Here he is with a group of friends, playing “Basin Street Blues” back in 1964.

Man, that Satch could play!

Randy Thompson: A Late Autumn Walk at Dusk

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A Late Autumn Walk at Dusk
By Randy Thompson

Dusk is my favorite time for walking, when the sun has just set over the western hills so that the last light of the day slowly dims like embers of a fire going out. Night is ascendant, but, for a few minutes at least, it  is not fully dark. The shadows grow long and deep, but there are still gaps between the shadows where the dying light of day dimly and softly glows briefly before the full and final setting of the sun.

This transition time is particularly lovely when the moon rises, casting new shadows in its yellow-orange light. The woods become a silhouette of branches darkened to blackness in its dim glow.  Nearby houses darken into the growing night, their lit windows signs of warmth and shelter.

To be outdoors at dusk is to be completely alone. The light of day is gone, and so, for a time, are the responsibilities and demands that accompany daylight.  The glow of windows and all that goes on behind them are isolated islands of human habitation, whose demands  now are quietly alien and distant in the  gentle, soft glow of the November moon, as though I am sailing by strange shores inhabited by people with strange customs.

DSCN2792To be out at dusk is to be an outsider to the human world, a temporary stranger to a familiar place and to familiar people. Life’s details disappear in the night’s darkness and are revealed in new guise in the moonlight. One sees things differently. One remembers things differently.  The silence of dusk both  stills the mind and enlivens it. Everything is the same, but everything looks different.  Having abandoned human habitation for a time, one becomes aware of a grander, deeper habitation, of which the glow of moonlight is a reminder.

In the dusk darkness, unlit by lamps and human lights, the moonlight glow is deep and rich and inviting. The sky becomes both dark and bright at the same time. One sees, but one sees little among what has now become a mass of shadows.  But, what one does see is the  halo glow above them, the glow that transforms black branches into geometric patterns, that transforms the broken asphalt of a country road into a thing of beauty, an unlikely reflector of a light that is itself the reflection of the light of a now unseen sun.

As heavenly bodies go, the moon is little more than a cratered, barren rock. Unlike Saturn, there are no rings around it. Unlike Jupiter, there are is no riot of color, and no giant red spot. Unlike Neptune or Uranus, the emerald-green gas giants, the moon has no color. Unlike Titan, one of Saturn’s moons, there is no atmosphere. Yet, our moon is indeed a thing of beauty when the light of the sun shines upon it. Whether harvest moon, or blood moon, or just the plain, normal moon, it is not only beautiful, but a source of light as well, a source of light that makes other ugly things beautiful.

This soft, dim glow of light reflected off the heavenly rock shining in our night’s sky points to things unseen, for those who bother to think about it. The light we see doesn’t originate in the road’s pavement, nor in the air around us, nor, even, in the moon. It’s source is unseen. We see the light and see by it, we admire its beauty, but we can’t see its source. Sometimes, of course, when the moon is crescent, we can infer the direction from which the light comes, the crescent being a sign pointing to an unseen source.  From the perspective of dusk, that’s all there is to see.

This is what it is like to live in the world’s semi-darkness and to love the glow by which we notice the shadows, the glow of an indirect light by which we see what we can, but the source of which is hidden from us.

If we bother to notice, much of life is bathed in a similar glow, but one which is felt more than seen, where for no reason the mind knows we see ordinary, neighborly faces with new fondness, in a new light. Where small kindnesses appear out of life’s shadows, becoming signs pointing to kindness’ Source. Where self-sacrifices dramatic and mundane, big and small, shine gently around and even in the midst of the shadowy selfishness, greed and self-promotion that passes for human life.

There is an uncanny beauty loose in the world, if we but had the stillness of heart to notice it, if we were willing to venture out of the familiar conflicts of distracted living, of being mentally pulled and pushed electronically in a technological wasteland wonderland. But, to notice it, one must venture out and leave for a time the familiarity of normal life’s demands and expectations, and mentally walk out of the doors of habitual perceptions into the dark, where the light glows.

DSCN2783Sometimes it takes awhile for one’s eyes to get used to the darkness and the subtlety of dusk’s light, being blinded by the synthetic light by which we keep the darkness away. Yet, it is the darkness which differentiates the light, and if you’re going to see the real light, the light that points beyond this planet to something else, it means venturing outdoors beyond the confines of the steel-hard walls of technology, artificial connectedness, and manipulation, which we know all too intimately as a mental home that isn’t a real home. It means leaving behind bent-inward desires for other desires that take us into the revealing darkness and out of ourselves.

Yes, it’s dark out there. But, it’s the dark that enables one to see what video screens can’t show and what only human eyes and the human heart can, for it is only at dusk where one can see the light that reveals the shadows and the dark that reveals the light, and where we see the darkness-revealing light and the light-revealing darkness within our hearts.

“It was grace that taught my heart to fear,” the old hymn tells us, “and grace my fears relieved,” and so to walk in the moonlit dark is to walk in grace, the indirect light of a Presence we know in our heart, that is light and darkness, blindness and vision, by which we see what can’t be seen. This is the moonlight that beatifies and beautifies, that plants in our hearts the hope to which Dame Julian of Norwich gave witness, “That all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all matter of thing shall be well.”

To walk at dusk, to live for a time as an outsider  to the surrounding islands of human habitation, is at once to see less and to see more, to see incomprehensible shadows, and also the transcendent glow of holiness. Here is the humble shalom peace that passes understanding, the inner glow of heaven’s light on a barren, rocky soul.

Essential Practices: Praying the Psalms

Geth Choir Psalms

Essential Practices
One: Praying the Psalms

It seems to me that there are some essential practices that attend our faith as Christians.

By saying that, I do not wish to imply, or get into an argument about, whether they are obligatory or not. In some senses I think they are, and in others not. All I’m saying is, let’s not get into a fight about: Chaplain Mike says we have to do these things to be Christians, or good Christians. Can we please just skip the whole grace vs. demand/faith vs. works debate this time around?

I use the word essential because I find that these practices signify something of the essence of following Jesus. They go to the heart of “walking in newness of life.” They are also time-tested practices that have found an honored place in the history of God’s people.

For this reason, I did not find them, at least in the way I will present them, to be emphasized within the revivalistic, doctrinaire evangelicalism of most of my adult life. Thankfully, some evangelicals have begun to speak more about them now, but not before a whole flock of us left to find these practices available and organically integrated in more historic expressions of the faith.

The first essential practice I’d like to talk about is praying the Psalms.

The Church indeed likes what is old, not because it is old but rather because it is “young.” In the Psalms, we drink divine praise at its pure and stainless source, in all its primitive sincerity and perfection. We return to the youthful strength and directness with which the ancient psalmists voiced their adoration of the God of Israel. Their adoration was intensified by the ineffable accents of new discovery: for the Psalms are the songs of men who knew who God was. If we are to pray well, we too must discover the Lord to whom we speak, and if we use the Psalms in our prayer we will stand a better chance of sharing in the discovery which lies hidden in their words for all generations. For God has willed to make Himself known to us in the mystery of the Psalms.

• Thomas Merton
Praying the Psalms

Elsewhere, I have expounded on my understanding of the meaning and significance of the Book of Psalms. Here’s a brief review:

Psalms contains the prayers of the king and the kingdom. Put together in five “books” like the Torah of Moses, the Book of Psalms is the Torah of God’s Messiah. The first part of the book is filled with the psalms of David, the king, whose prayers represent the laments and praises of the ideal King (Messiah), who is introduced to the reader in Psalm 2. The psalms of David expose us to the heart, mind, and spirit of our King. The book also focuses upon the divine promise of restoring God’s divine Kingdom in the world, by which all nations and all creation will be renewed. It is one of the places in the Bible where Jesus and the Kingdom are most apparent. To pray the Psalms is to learn what it means to pray, “May your kingdom come, may your will be done on earth as in heaven.”

Praying the psalms can be as easy as reading them aloud, directing the words toward God. But I think they are even more effective when sung or chanted.

My church hymnal is one resource for which I, as a Lutheran, am grateful, and one of the best parts of our hymnal is that it includes the psalms. All 150 of them are there, with instructions and markings for chanting them. Any individual, group, or church would find great benefit in praying them in this fashion regularly.

I also discovered a wonderful site called SING: A Resource for Singing the Psalms. This online metrical psalm-book was put together by Dr. Timothy Tennent and Mrs. Julie Tennent from Asbury Seminary. The great feature of this site is that it gives you a variety of hymn tunes to use when singing the psalms. Here is a screen shot of Psalm 1, as it appears there:

Psalm 1 shot

Mrs. Tennent has arranged these psalms to fit with many familiar and accessible tunes. For example, the five tunes above are the tunes for (1) Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee, (2) Love Divine, All Loves Excelling, (3) Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken, (4) Come, Thou Fount, and (5) Brethren, We Have Met to Worship (from Sacred Harp).

There are excellent indices, and even the ability to download tunes. I encourage you to make use of this fine and edifying resource.

However we go about it, it is an essential part of our faith to pray the Psalms.

Miguel Ruiz: Confessions of a Former “Worship Leader”

Worship-Leader-Development-Leading-On-and-Off-Stage

Thanks to Jonathan Aigner for letting us re-post this from his site, Ponder Anew. Jonathan writes the best blog about worship on the web, in my opinion, and I hope you’ll check out his articles regularly.

Miguel Ruiz is one of our faithful readers and participants at Internet Monk. He really hits one out of the park with this personal story about his journey.

• • •

I can’t help but think I am not alone in my story, even if my journey has some unique twists.

I grew up in the non-denominational tradition. For us, worship was the six songs we sang before the sermon, and the two after. We were encouraged to participate enthusiastically, to pour out our love for God in song. It was just assumed that, of course, we arrived every Sunday with a hopper full of it. I was a very earnest young believer, desiring to please God with my efforts, so I sang from my pew every week, sometimes with gusto, others just kind of plodding.

From time to time, if there wasn’t enough enthusiasm in the rank and file, a guilt trip might be issued. How could Christians just sit there in the pew and not praise God with every ounce of their strength? I would feel convicted, but also frustrated that my efforts were not being supported by the less enthusiastic.

Come on, people, let’s sing it like we really mean it!

You do mean it, right?

And so I labored in my vocalizing under the obligation of sincere thankfulness and genuine love that were supposed to naturally proceed from a personal relationship with Jesus. But to be honest, I didn’t come to church most Sundays feeling very in love with Jesus, and no amount of singing it over and over changed that one bit. Yet I continued to sing as best I could because I was convinced that it was what I was supposed to be doing. God really wants our singing, I guess. That’s how we glorify Him, whatever that means.

Those who led the singing seemed to have absolutely no shortage of love for Jesus. Like the Energizer bunny, these people must have hated to go home after church. Eyes were closed, hands were raised, facial expressions were strained— you’ve all seen the look; it’s about halfway between sex and constipation.

I suppressed a lingering suspicion that I was not as in love with Jesus as they were. Of course I was! I was a committed worshiper who did my best (which is all God ever asks, right?) to sing with devotion! But I never had the kind of “spiritual connection” with God that, evidently, resulted in such ecstatic grimaces. Until…

In 25 years of Evangelicalism, I can count them on one hand. That’s right, I did get the shivers. I remember it clearly, and there is no convincing me that it was not a real experience. A few times, while I was singing as passionately as I could muster, and had the guts to close my eyes, raise my hands, and tune out the world, even if none of my peers seemed interested. I don’t know how to describe what happened.  I got the chills.  I “felt the Holy Spirit pouring into me.” I had some sort of rush. I didn’t have to contrive a facade, I just began to feel this intense emotional connection to God, pulsating like an orgasm in my chest.

It went away by the end of the song, despite my best efforts to sustain it. And it didn’t come back again for a very long time. When it did, it was just as rare. So I sat in the pews week after week, surrounded by people for whom this apparently happened every time someone strummed a guitar. I began to wonder about myself.

“It must be my sins,” I thought, and certain Evangelical authors definitely agreed. “If I get rid of this in my life, or overcome this struggle, I’ll have more access to this connection with God.” Or maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough. I needed to concentrate more, be more sincere, pray more before worship, and read my Bible more during the week.

A part of me knew that wasn’t the answer. These euphoric episodes must be gifts from God, not something I conjure. When he wants to, he’ll show up an dazzle me with His presence in ways that will blow my mind, I imagined. But I continued to sit in rooms full of people high on dazzle with nothing but guilt in my heart telling me I must be doing it wrong.  I must not have been spiritual enough that week. But it couldn’t be that. How could I possibly be the only person in the room who sinned himself out of “Experiencing the Manifest Presence of God (TM)” that week, EVERY week?

No, it must be something else. To this day, I haven’t found it, though I quit looking long ago.

After studying music in a conservative Evangelical college, I went into full time work as a “worship leader,” i.e. I strummed a guitar and led the singing. I believed that God inhabited the praises of his people, and you couldn’t lead people further in worship than you’ve already been.  But these sentiments began to make me question if I was truly fit for the task. I consoled myself with the experiences that the people in the pews seemed to be having. Maybe it’s not true, God doesn’t need my worship to be authentic in order to use my music to create legitimate experiences for other people. And so I continued to strive, comforted that my efforts seemed to be doing some good, even if I wasn’t a recipient of it.

Enter my Reformed phrase. Suddenly, everything was ratcheted up to the highest extreme. Perhaps the reason I didn’t feel like I was encountering God in worship was that I wasn’t elect! Did I really even love God? Then why did I feel this way and have these concerns and doubts? How could I be sure I loved God if my emotions were all over the place?

I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t get up there on Sunday mornings actually looking the way I felt. My growing desperation to feel the presence of God, and perceived alienation from Him, were leading to doubt, frustration, anger, despair, and depression. I’d have been one sorry sight, if you could have seen my soul. It got to the point that leading music on Sundays was painful. I dreaded it with every fiber of my being, and went home completely drained and exhausted every time. There were times I was literally choking back tears as I tried to sing, which ironically, probably just made my crooning appear that much more convincing. My song became a prayer, a desperate cry for God to touch my heart and heal the brokenness of feeling so disconnected from Him. My dark night of the soul had no light at the end of the tunnel.

I had been looking for God inside myself, in my feelings, my experiences, my spiritual faithfulness, and works of obedience. I’d come up empty. I had nothing. The game was over. The God I had been seeking was turning out to be an imaginary best friend whom I was outgrowing.

I finally reached the point where I couldn’t fake it anymore. It was tearing me apart to the point that atheism seemed preferable. I felt like such a hypocrite standing before the congregation every Sunday to lead them in the kind of “worship” that felt like leveraging commercial subculture to manufacture experiences that would hopefully be misconstrued as spiritual. I threw in the towel.

Five days after giving my two weeks, I received a phone call from a Lutheran church on the other side of the country. They wound up taking this religious refugee in and teaching me to worship God in a more emotionally and spiritually healthy way. A much older way.

Rather than pushing me deeper into myself to find my connection with God in emotions and subjective experiences, I am being pulled out of myself to behold something that is objective and external: A God who speaks to us in the sure and certain words of the scriptures, and gives us His grace in the visible and tangible sacraments. My navel-gazing narcissism posing as piety is being put to death by the constant reassurance that as surely as I can hear these words of forgiveness and taste this bread and wine, I can know that God loves and accepts me, because of Jesus, no matter how separated from Him I feel.

As a Lutheran “Cantor” now, I have the freedom to pursue my vocation as a musician untethered from the faux spirituality of manufactured zeal. I no longer feel the pressure to help people connect with God, because the Holy Spirit does this just fine without my help, through the means of grace.

I no longer have to worry about “leading people in worship,” because I have a Pastor who fulfills this responsibility well.

I’m just the music guy now, my job is to help believers sing the Gospel.

The burden is gone.

U.S. Civil Religion – An Election Year Series

Maine Lighthouse 1

Presidential election years in the U.S. provide Christians an opportunity to reflect upon our faith and how it applies to our lives as citizens and to the public issues that affect us all.

I’d like to take Tuesdays throughout 2016 to discuss matters like these. To prompt my own thinking and to give us material for these conversations, I’ve chosen three books to work through this year. These were recommended by Harold K. Bush in a book review at Christianity Today about John D. Wilsey’s book, American Exceptionalism and Civil Religion: Reassessing the History of an Idea. Here is what Bush said:

For Christian readers wishing to engage these issues, among the most helpful recent resources are Richard Hughes’s Christian America and the Kingdom of God (2009) and John Fea’s outstanding Was America Founded As a Christian Nation? (2011). Hughes gives voice to some of the fear and trembling about America’s legacy that inspires leftist critique, within and beyond the church. In some respects, Fea strikes an important balance to this more critical and disapproving account. His study is well-balanced, well-documented, and impressive in its willingness to give both sides a hearing.

American Exceptionalism and Civil Religion builds effectively on these previous works.

So then, these are the three books I’ll be reading and referring to throughout the year.

We begin today with a quote from Richard Hughes’s introduction to Christian America and the Kingdom of God. I do so to set in place the term “civil religion,” which I’m using as the theme of this series.

The term goes back to an influential essay in 1967 by sociologist Robert Bellah in which he distinguished American cultural “Christianity” from biblical Christianity. Hughes agrees with Bellah that the idea of America as a “Christian Nation” is accurate in some respects but most certainly not in others.

It is not outlined as such in our Constitution, so it is not a legal designation. However, it does describe an unofficial ethos that is pervasive in the cultural and ceremonial experience of the United States. This civil “Christian” culture is not specifically “Christian” in the biblical sense, as Hughes notes:

…it can speak of God, but it may or may not speak of Christ. It can speak of morality, but it may or may not speak of divine revelation. It can speak of endurance, but it may or may not speak of resurrection or eternal life. And it can speak of community, but it may or may not speak of the community of saints.

Many do not see or appreciate the differences.

Hughes gives several examples of how various individuals, groups, and state and local governments have tried to enshrine the idea of America as a “Christian Nation” into law and into our cultural and ceremonial observances and notes that the Civil War was an important time in which Christianity became thoroughly infused with cultural presuppositions. Historian Mark Noll has written a book describing the Civil War as a “theological crisis” in the country, a major turning point in American religious thought. Richard Hughes gives one example for us from that period to consider today:

What is crucial to emphasize is this: America’s civic faith draws on Christianity at many points. Indeed, it overlaps with the Christian tradition in so many ways that many Christians fail to distinguish the one from the other. A single example of this profound overlapping will suffice: Julia Ward Howe’s “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” published in the Atlantic Monthly in 1862.

The first stanza of that majestic hymn that celebrates America’s civic faith equated “the glory of the coming of the Lord” with the cause of the republic in America’s Civil War. It then suggested that in the guns of the Union Army, God himself “hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword.” Indeed, Howe concluded, in the midst of that war, “His truth is marching on.”

The second stanza suggested that God was to be found “in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps” as the army of the republic retired for the night. And there, in those camps, Howe affirmed, Americans could “read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,” for “His day is marching on.”

The third stanza spoke of a “fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel,” thereby suggesting some connection between the gospel of Christ and the nation’s military agenda. The fourth stanza suggested that it was God who had sounded the trumpet summoning Americans to war, and then confused that war with the final judgment described in the Bible. Thus, through the power of the war, “He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat.”

But the fifth stanza did the most to confuse America’s civic faith with the Christian religion, for it directly linked the work of Christ with the work of the Union army, and the cross of Christ with the cause of temporal freedom.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea;
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

Over the years, millions of Christians have sung that song, fully convinced that they were singing a Christian hymn, or at least a hymn that was in keeping with the central themes of the Christian gospel. And to the extent that America is a Christian nation both culturally and ceremonially, they were right. But as we shall see in chapter three, the sentiments of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” are altogether foreign to the message of the Christian faith if we measure those sentiments against the biblical vision of the kingdom of God.

Julia Ward Howe’s “Battle Hymn of the Republic” clearly celebrated certain aspects of America’s civil religion. But to the extent that it confused America’s civic faith with the Christian message, it also celebrated what I describe in this book as the ceremonial and cultural establishment of the Christian religion.

Mondays with Michael Spencer: February 1, 2016

Photo by David Cornwell
Photo by David Cornwell

This is part three in a series of iMonk posts that Michael wrote back in 2006. We have edited them and now present them each Monday. His subject was “the sermon,” and the series was called “What’s Wrong with the Sermon?” Here is Michael’s explanation of the approach he took:

In this series of posts I will be examining the sermon as it is currently done in evangelicalism. My method will be a bit backwards. I am going to examine the most frequent criticisms of sermons — something I hear all the time from my peers and student listeners — and see if there is truth in the criticisms.

Past posts:
• Part 1: The sermon’s too long
Part 2: The sermon’s boring

• • •

What’s wrong with the sermon?
(3) The sermon — I don’t understand it

This post is not about people whose communication skills are too poor to get the job done. If you are ignorant, or mumble or can’t get a talk organized in any sort of comprehensible way, the road for you is clear and striaght ahead: Get to work improving your skills. Take a class in communication or speech. Get mentored. These obvious problems can be addressed relatively simply if you have the humility to admit you need work.

We’re going to go a different direction.

The longer I preach, the more I am convinced that preachers operate in two “rings” of comprehension.

The first ring includes those familiar with evangelical language, dialects and rules of communication. These are the people who understand preachers because they know the Bible, the vocabulary and the methods of communication we typically equate with preaching. Most of us who are sitting in church listening to sermons are in this circle.

The other circle is everyone else. They listen to the same sermons and in many, many cases they have no idea what the preacher is talking about.

They don’t know the Bible. They don’t know the in-words. They don’t know the unspoken assumptions. They don’t buy into all the intellectual shortcuts. They don’t buy into the universe of answers that the inner circle takes for granted.

This audience–often young people and the chronically unchurched–are truly puzzled by what they are hearing. What sounds familiar and important to us sounds silly, confusing, even bizarre to them.

It’s at this point that something interesting happens. A bold response arises in regard to those who do not understand.

All over America, there are young “preachers” doing talks that those of us who are “trained” and “prepared” preachers find amateurish, informal and inadequate. Some of them are theologically rough around the edges, or worse. It doesn’t sound like preaching. Some embrace the label preaching for “talks.” It grates on our nerves, and it bothers us because these preachers seem to be implying that the way the rest of us are preaching doesn’t make it across the communication divide between the two rings.

They may be right, by the way.

These young preachers have shifted almost totally to the outer ring, and have largely left the inner ring on their own. Often they explain this as their purpose, but sometimes you simply have to figure out what is happening. They are attempting to communicate the Gospel in a way that deconstructs the whole idea of preaching to exclude “inside” communication and to take great pains to communicate simple and practical lessons to the unchurched. It feels, to many Christians, like “baby steps” all the time, and they don’t care for it.

Now I am not claiming that these preachers are succeeding. I think the results are a very mixed bag that depends on a lot of factors I can’t address here. What I am going to commend is a shift in thinking away from only being comprehensible to a smaller and smaller group of insiders–an approach that really is more about teaching and discipling than about proclamation anyway–to an approach that seeks to speak as directly to the non-believer, non-“insider,” as possible.

America and the West are becoming a mission field. These young preachers understand this, and we need to pay attention to that insight before we decide they are all betrayers of what is true and important (which some may be.)

Watching and listening to this shift has caused me to ask very hard questions about my own preaching. I preach to hundreds of unbelievers. I am very conscious of the fact that if I do a typical sermon from my own Southern Baptist tradition, the kind that all the Christians will like, I will be incomprehensible to many of my students. At times, I have sat with the students, listened to guest preachers, and tried to hear the message as a complete outsider would hear it.

The results are sobering. We really do speak in a total environment of incomprehension for many people. So much is assumed. So much is unexplained. So many of the questions, answers, stories and difficulties are assumed or ignored. While we are talking about Christian beliefs that we all take for granted, many are hearing a completely mysterious, unknown, almost bizarrely irrelevant presentation.

Now this raises clear choices.

Geth St FrancisFor some, the mandate is plain: be understood at all costs. No matter what must happen, what must change or what must be done, communication with the unchurched audience is the priority. Into this option we could list all kinds of creative and catchy tools that turn sermons into “talks” about “principles” and “lessons.” Grabbing and holding attention is a preeminent concern. Simplicity and practicality are unsurpassed qualities. The Gospel? Well…..we may have a problem there.

For many, this appears to be an abandonment of the sermon as the church’s unique proclamation and a surrender to the culture. The content of the Gospel seems to be perilously and cavalierly at risk in this approach. The end result often seems to be unrecognizable as Christian preaching. These are real concerns, and I don’t have a problem with anyone who is critical of the risk some young preachers are taking.

This deconstruction of preaching in the name of communication is an important challenge. It doesn’t just want to come out from behind the pulpit. In many ways it wants to eliminate the pulpit, and even the church building itself. It is a deconstruction and rebirthing of preaching and the context of communication that seems perilously uninterested in the “great preachers” of the past, and very interested in emulating secular models of communication from advertising to MTV.

On the other hand, many traditional preachers respond to this same challenge by not only getting back behind the pulpit, but elevating it to new levels. There is a call for a return to classic, theologically driven preaching aimed squarely at the church and not at the unbeliever. It is not unusual to hear advocates of this approach make absolute statements: only exposition is real preaching; large amounts of scripture should be used; an advanced theological vocabulary is to be used in order to precisely describe Biblical truth; systematic theology should never be avoided.

The idea here is to make the church’s communication centered on the preservation of the Gospel and not on communication with those in the “outer ring.” The results, in my opinion, may be very good and necessary for the church, but there is a real danger here as well:  abandoning the missional nature of the church. The church of Jesus is a cross-cultural movement. To stop and entrench our communication with those who already understand the Gospel is to take the path of the Pharisees, and not the path of Jesus.

Jesus is the key to this dilemma. And it is on Jesus that my advice for preachers will center.

How can our sermons communicate the Gospel more clearly?

1) We must be clear about the Gospel itself, in all its aspects.

2) Preparation and study of Christian theology and Biblical exposition is crucial.

3) The key point for preaching, however, is not the mastery of theological categories, but mastery of the Bible as literature/story.

4) I can affirm the efforts of recent communicators to speak clearly to the unbeliever. I believe this is what Jesus did, and what he models for his followers to do.

5) Jesus’ use of parables and explanation of those parables to his disciples sets an interesting and exciting model.

6) This suggests to me that a Jesus-style preacher will be able to go to various levels of communication, being aware of all different audiences.

7) There is good reason to believe that the Bible itself challenges us to do communication in a flowing, lively process that begins with basic illustration and story, then moves on to more explicit explanation and teaching. The goal is not to just speak to one kind of person, but to move all persons through a process of “basics on up.” This takes time and preparation, but it allows both seeker-sensitive creativity, and serious application to be “OK.”

8) This means that the preacher may be using provocative and non-traditional approaches at one point, and then more “inside” explanations and teaching at another, all the while connecting these methods together.

I think it is important for us to remember that the message of Jesus never comes with an age-specific or culture-specific label. We are communicators to everyone! An expositional preacher who never goes “down” to the level of the unbeliever has failed. An evangelist who never goes into depths on questions of Christology or application has failed as well.

We cannot take full responsibility for the complete comprehension of all who hear us preach. The Holy Spirit’s work is illumination and regeneration. Comprehension is an important matter, but God does amazing things with all our less than perfect communications.

The crucial ingredient is genuine love for people and genuine passion for God and the Gospel. That love then spurs us to work hard at the business of communicating like Jesus. We don’t “dead end” into doing what feels safe or right for us. We look at the sheep in front of us, and we bring all our abilities to the work of showing them the Great Shepherd.