Eating Jesus, Part 2

Go here to read Part 1.

Eating is one of the great unifying experiences of humanity. Everyone does it. Three times a day, most of the world sits down to some kind of meal for health, strength, and enjoyment. In many ancient cultures, sharing a meal together was the epitome of fellowship, and even in modern-day America, when we want a real conversation with someone, we have them over for supper or go out to a restaurant to talk.

Jesus invites us to share his table - to eat his flesh like bread and drink his blood like wine. Some of us have learned to sit quietly and eat what is put in front of us, and have discovered great peace in so doing. Some of us still behave like brats and get into food fights. (I know I've certainly been in more than my share.)

I don't have enough Jesus inside me. I need more. That is the supremely important thing. "Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you." And we can't partake of Jesus if we're always flinging him in one another's faces. The Eucharist is a sacrament of humility and devotion, a reminder of the massive mystery of redemption. It is an invitation to noisy children to quiet themselves before their Father, let go of their pet doctrines and personal vendettas, and experience the beautiful unity of Psalm 133.

Behold, how good and pleasant it is
when brothers dwell in unity!
It is like the precious oil on the head,
running down on the beard,
on the beard of Aaron,
running down on the collar of his robes!
It is like the dew of Hermon,
which falls on the mountains of Zion!
For there the Lord has commanded the blessing,
life forevermore.

For years I thought it was zealous to go around telling other Christians what was wrong with their theology, when Jesus just wanted me to love them and rejoice together in our common inheritance - salvation through the blood of the Lamb. "Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand."

Jesus is not a weapon. I know about the scourge and the temple and the overturned tables. I know there's a place for rebuke and repentance. I know that Jesus said that he didn't come to bring peace but a sword. But he also prayed we would be one.

I don't think the sword is supposed to be slashing around within the Church. The Church is a place of healing, safety, encouragement. The Church is a place where tears are dried and feet are washed. The Church is where the wine is poured, the bread is broken, and Jesus is shared.

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The Unqualified Jesus

Jesus is very hard to describe in a word. He is loving. He is also austere. He is down-to-earth. He is also holy. He is understanding. He is also unpredictable.

We know that Jesus is God, and that God is complete. The immediate difficulty is this: How do we present Jesus to people without leaving something out? There's simply too many adjectives and qualifiers to keep track of.

Truth may be a tightrope, but it isn't a tightrope that we walk alone. Jesus isn't watching from the ground and critiquing our performance; he's right there with us, holding our hand and helping us get it right. He's not somewhere way out past the moon, busy with cosmic accounting; he desires incarnation and participation in our lives. That is why I'm starting to believe that if there's one word to describe Jesus, it's this one:

Emmanuel.

God. With. Us.

Have you ever stopped to think about the joy of simply being with someone you love? There's sympathy, connection, a million interwoven strands of non-verbal communication. This is God's invitation. Walk with me, give me your cares, put your fingers into the holes in my wrists and your hand into my side.

Emmanuel.

Don't try to box him in or explain him. We should know God as an obsession, not an object. He is not defined by his attributes: he IS. He is the way. He is the truth. He is the life.

Jesus is the theology of the Father, revealed to us.

-Thomas Merton¹

Emmanuel.

To understand the with-ness of God is to understand the unqualified Jesus and breathe the free air of spiritual simplicity. He straightens the crooked road and smooths the rough places. His yoke is easy and his burden is light.

We don't need to constantly be balancing our presentation of God's nature to make sure we cover all the bases. He is with us.

We can speak his unique word to each unique situation, without qualification and without apology, relying on him to reveal himself more comprehensively to people in his time, as he chooses. He is with us.

We can be confident in the continuing work of sanctification, believing Philippians 1:6 for ourselves and for others. He is with us.

We don't need to be anxious about the future and we don't need to be afraid of man. He is with us.

We don't need to memorize what he looks like. He is with us.

Emmanuel. Think about it.

(1) Thomas Merton, No Man Is An Island, (Barns & Noble Books, 2003), 23

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Joy In The Journey

Faith My Eyes

In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength. -Isaiah 30:15

Jesus Christ may be to us either crucified and buried or risen and ascendant, depending on the reach of our faith. This is what it means to believe. It is more than mere mental assent to a set of extraordinary doctrines; it is identifying with and actualizing the life of Christ in my mortal flesh. Immediately I take myself in hand and choose to praise, the Word becomes alive again.

"Faith is not pathetic sentiment." Too often our "praise" is pensive and spineless, when it ought to be joyfully and earnestly real. We are more than conquerors, and as such we ought to hold our heads high. "We Christians must not sit among unbelievers like melancholy owls." And this is the hard thing: in order to praise God in the midst of trial, one must admit that it is not that hard after all. Personal pride always insists on the hardness of things.

How often has our courage failed us when the storm is raging and the sea is high. "Oh ye of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" There's Jesus, rubbing his eyes and grinning. "You think this boat is gonna sink, man? Chill out and row! I'm God, ok? Geez."

***

Keep on comin' - these lines on the road
Keep me responsible, be it a light or heavy load
Keep me guessin' with these blessings in disguise
I'll walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes

-Caedmon's Call, 40 Acres, "Faith My Eyes"

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Seeking The Kingdom

Greg Boyd posted this profound picture on his blog several months ago. I think this picture beats a thousand words by a mile, but I'll add some meager commentary anyway.

Christianity is not about rules and morals and "being a good person." It's not about democracy, or free markets, or being the world's conscience. It's not even about being right.

The essence of the Kingdom has never changed: love God and love your neighbor. That's it. Pass along the bread and watch it multiply. But what about Social Security? What about the immigration problem? What about Iraq? Good grief - sometimes we spend so much time fixing our neighbor that we have no time left to love him.

Jesus has already set the example, and He didn't set it by running for President. He set it by washing the feet of sinful men and dying on a Roman cross like a common criminal. Everywhere He went, love and healing followed like flowers after spring rain. Christianity doesn't need a constitution - it already has one.

Image courtesy of heavenlysanctuary.net

Jesus on the Warpath

I was debating an ACLU attorney at Christmas on an NPR station. I pulled out a Xerox copy of The Christian Life and Character of the Civil Institutions of the United States and said to her: "Until you answer this book, the ACLU can't make a case against America's Christian founding." She was shocked when she saw it. She asked where I had gotten it. The only thing that gave her relief was the fact that the book was not in print. BUT NOW IT IS!

Be afraid ACLU. Be very afraid. Benjamin F. Morris packs The Christian Life and Character with page after page of original source material making the case that America was founded as a Christian nation. The evidence is unanswerable and irrefutable. This 1000-page book will astound you and send enemies of Christianity into shock.

[Insert Spartan scream here]

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Blessing and Devotion

A story is told of Jesus and His disciples walking one day along a stony road. Jesus asked each of them to choose a stone to carry for Him. John, it is said, chose a large one while Peter chose the smallest. Jesus led them then to the top of a mountain and commanded that the stones be made bread. Each disciple, by this time tired and hungry, was allowed to eat the bread he held in his hand, but of course Peter's was not sufficient to satisfy his hunger. John gave him some of his.
Some time later Jesus again asked the disciples to pick up a stone to carry. This time Peter chose the largest of all. Taking them to a river, Jesus told them to cast the stones into the water. They did so, but looked at one another in bewilderment.
"For whom," asked Jesus, "did you carry the stone?"

-Elisabeth Elliot, These Strange Ashes, (Harper & Row: 1975), 132

Image courtesy of stpetergalveston.org

The Garden Tomb

Our last few days in Israel were slow and relaxed, and a detailed narrative would be tedious both to write and to read. I'm going to wrap up my account of the trip by talking about the Garden Tomb, which was, for me, the most spiritually affecting of any place we visited.

It was our last day in the Holy Land. Joseph and I packed our things for the final time and took a leisurely breakfast, too tired to move very fast. We both wished to spend a good portion of time in prayer and meditation at the Garden Tomb before we left, so we made that our destination for the morning.

As I mentioned previously, the Garden is a unique place within Jerusalem. Unlike many other so-called "Holy Sites," there is in the Garden a strong and inexplicable conviction that this is actually the place. There are no gaudy shrines and no pompous churches, the grounds are tastefully arranged and well-maintained, and the place fits the description given in the Gospels perfectly.

Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there. (John 19:41-42)

In a sense this quiet, secluded compound is the bottleneck of history. The entire plan of God narrowed down to this event, and when it was complete this was the first place to witness the dawn of the new humanity and the new spiritual Eden.

In that moment 2,000 years ago, Christ first opened the door to immortality. The historically unprecedented event we call the Resurrection was the bursting dam through which rushed the wild and rejoicing torrents of Divine grace - "the reckless, raging fury that we call the Love of God."

We have seen that, metaphorically speaking, every man is Jewish. And Jesus is "The King of the Jews" - or, as Romans says, "the firstborn among many brethren." Christ is the "Last Adam," called in 1 Corinthians 15 a "live-giving spirit." Stepping out of the tomb into the warm freshness of Easter morning, with the sunlight on His face and a twinkle in His eye, Christ drew in His first full breaths, and existence kissed eternity for the first time.

As you meet others treading slowly along the winding stone and gravel paths, you can see the awe written on their faces. Like you, they can tell that the place is drenched with the aroma of Christ - with hope for this world and promise for the next. There is a joyful stillness that pervades everything, along with a palpable sense of Christian solidarity.

Many have asked me if visiting these places was life-changing, which is a hard question to answer. It is usually only when we look back that we realize our lives have changed. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I think the Resurrection is the single most important event in the history of Christianity, and being there allowed its reality to sink in in a whole new way, deepening my faith and reminding me of the meaning and majesty of it all.

As we join together and celebrate Easter Sunday this weekend, take some time to ponder the immensity of Christ's sacrifice and the completeness of His victory. Someone has said in reference to Ephesians 2:8 that salvation is the gift of God - God giving Himself to us - and that is the greatest, most scandalously extravagant gift there has ever been or ever will be. The inventor of life invites us to share His sufferings, death, and glory, and further up and further in, the breathless faithful will follow.

I tore off my grave clothes
And cried a pool of tears
For the voice of the Living One
Who spoke the stars and spheres
Has called me from my darkness
And led me to this place
Where the dead leap
And the blind see His face

-Bob Bennett, Lord of the Past: A Compilation, "Still Rolls The Stone"

Image courtesy of gardentomb.com

Scared of the Dark

i don't remember meeting Him
He had just always been there
when people ask me, "how did you meet the Lord?"
i don't know how to answer.
meeting Him seems unavoidable
recognizing Him can be tricky
loving Him seems impossible.
people often ask that too - "do you love Jesus?"
and again i'm stuck for an answer
i know the right one - the answer you're supposed to give
i know that it presupposes so many things that it could hardly be honest
so i say
as much as i love,
i love Jesus.

if love was easier, i would love Him more
but then again
if love was easier, it would hardly be worth the little
it would ask
if i was stronger, i would love Him more
or maybe
i would more know how little i love

we grow slowly,
and love takes time...

He's always been there
even in that dark room where i
slept as a child
scared of that dark
in that room that seem to want
to suck me deep into the night's
great lungs
i hated the thought that we were all
hanging upside down - off the bottom of the world
and that all that darkness out there that we
might fall into
was just a shadow of our own selves
just a shadow you could fall through forever.

she said that You were out there too
and then she'd tuck me in so tight that i would likely be safe
till morning
but no woman - not even your own mother
can kiss you without mixing some unspoken sorrow
into her affection
and i always thought
she might be kissing me good-bye
as well as good night

my aunt said that Jesus would knock on the door of my heart
and if i would open the door
He'd come in and sup with me
and when i was old enough to be ashamed of trying to tether myself to my mom
(with that last desperate good night)
i decided
that instead of lying there being afraid
i would listen for His knock.

i heard all kinds of things
scary things
amplified by the dark
and by my nervous and hopeful listenings
was it the voice of Eli? or the call of God?
was it the limbs of the trees outside?
or the knock i was to open to?

i did not worry about what Jesus would find to eat if He came in
i was a child and knew that out of a crowd
a boy would most likely have some fish and some loaves

but i am no longer a child
i am no longer afraid of the dark
i have new things to fear
i am no longer afraid that i will drift away from this world
i am afraid i will never escape it.

and i'm not afraid of good-byes
i've become so used to them it scares me.

i have never heard any knocking sound
that was distinct from every other noise
but i have learned to listen
and i'm thankful for learning

i don't know that the rumble of the thunder
or the crackle in a good fire
or the hum of my wheels
is the sound of Jesus knocking on
the door of my heart
but i'm thankful to Him for all
those sounds
and for giving me ears
and for teaching me to listen.

i don't know that the lonely ache that i
feel - even when times are the best
and friends are near -
is the way that it feels when He knocks,
when He calls,
but i'm thankful to have a heart.
i don't know that He would like everything in it
or that He would find any fish or loaves anymore
or much besides stone and snakes.

but sometimes
i get really brave, and
if i don't open the door
i at least unlock it

and when i look in
or when i look out
i can see that He's just always been there.

meeting Him seems unavoidable
recognizing Him can be tricky
loving Him seems impossible

we grow slowly,
and love takes time


-Rich Mullins, 1997

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Masada and the Temptation of Christ

Hello everyone! Despite the remonstrations of my feet, we will not be observing the Sabbath today. Instead, we follow our merciless itinerary to Masada, at the southern end of the Dead Sea.

Masada, the ancient fortress that was the last stronghold in Judea to fall to the Romans, has become the symbol of Jewish tenacity. All new Israeli soldiers take part in a ceremony on the mountain, and thousands visit the site every week to soak in the intoxicating idealism of freedom. It is a monument to the conflicts of the world that have been physically lost and morally won. As C. S. Lewis said, "We shall probably fail, but let us go down fighting for the right side."*

Masada is a grim place. Looking down, you can see the remains of the Roman encampments and the wall that was built around the fortress to cut off escape. Step back 2,000 years into the battle-hardened body of a trapped Jewish zealot, see the fires burning below you, hear the shouts of the sentries, and imagine what it will be like to die.

The fortress of Masada was originally constructed by King Herod, who saw the obvious defensive advantages of the promontory and developed an elaborate system of aqueducts and cisterns to collect and store rainwater. When the zealots took it over, they converted one of Herod's stables into a Synagogue. It was there that archaeologists discovered fragments of Ezekiel's Vision of Dry Bones; not an inappropriate metaphor for describing the Jew's return from defeat and dispersion to a thriving life in the land of their heritage.

***

Driving through the desert on our way to Eilat, I found myself meditating on the Temptation of Christ. All of a sudden it hit me that 40 days is an awfully long time to spend alone in the desert without eating anything. How dulled we become to the dramatic realities of the Incarnation! Christian education seeks to "familiarize" children with the stories of the Bible, and sometimes I think we may have done altogether too good a job of it.

Right on the cusp of His public ministry, the Spirit compelled Christ to enter the solitude of the desert, alone, without food, without friendship, without forests or flowers - just His tremendous soul face to face with the immensity of His task. Would He go through with it? Was He prepared to redeem the tragedy man had made of creation, even in the teeth of vicious supernatural opposition? Thank God, He was; He powerfully, gloriously was. As He lifted His tired and victorious eyes to heaven, a cohort of shining angels came marching in on the heels of the devil, and the horizon before Him burst into dazzling white:

The people dwelling in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those dwelling in the region
and shadow of death,
on them a light has dawned.**

The Temptation is the greatest estimate in the Gospels of the strength of Christ's spirit and purpose. Gethsemane stretched His resolve to the breaking point, but the choice had already been made long before. The cost had already been counted, it only remained to be paid.

The account ends with Jesus slipping quietly back into public life; it's not clear if He was even missed. Still, later on after He became popular, He kept to this same pattern of solitary personal devotion:

But now even more the report about him went abroad, and great crowds gathered to hear him and to be healed of their infirmities. But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray. (Mark 5:15-16)

Has God brought you to "desolate places"? Then thank Him, and concentrate so you don't let Him down. He just wants to see what you are made of so He knows how far He can throw you.

*C. S. Lewis, The World’s Last Night and Other Essays, (Harvest/HBJ, 1987), 90-91
**Matthew 4:16

Selfish Sacrifices, Part 1: Introduction

Note: This short series is basically a rehash of what I shared on Sunday the 6th, so if you were there you may want to skip it.

The temptation to selfishness is one of the great snares of Christian service: the more you serve the stronger the temptation grows. It is harder than it seems to keep one's spiritual zeal protected from one's ego.

Everyone - Christian and non-Christian alike - appreciates attention. ("I love anonymity / and I love being noticed / just the same as anybody else..."*) Because of this, there is a strong tendency to focus on those areas of service where we are more likely to receive the attention that we crave. This can be dangerous. If those areas are not in line with what God would have us doing, we're headed for trouble.

Spiritual work without divine empowerment = exhaustion. Plain and simple. When we kick against the persistent direction of the Lord in order to attract artificial attention, we will promptly wear ourselves down to nothing. Yes, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." And the contrapositive is also true: "Apart from me you can do nothing."

The basis of Christian service must always be Jesus Christ, for the simple reason that nothing else is worth it. All too often, we're distracted from just loving the Lord and begin to fuss and fret about all the work we have to do and how tired we are and on and on and on. We forget that to obey is better (and more restful) than sacrifice, and before you know it we're booking passage to anywhere but Nineveh.

I don't know about you, but I can really sympathize with Martha sometimes. "Sometimes we forget to give to the Lord / 'cause we're so busy giving somewhere else..." It's so easy to get caught up in the intoxicating "commotion of devotion." But it is only in ministering directly to Jesus that we find peace, fulfillment, and rest.

*Caedmon's Call, Long Line Of Leavers, "Ballad of San Francisco"

Scriptures cited: Acts 26:14, Phil. 4:13, John 15:5, 1 Sam. 15:22, Luke 10:38-42

Miracles

I'd apologize for talking so much about C. S. Lewis, except that I'm not sorry. His work and the work of his contemporaries is some of the most real and penetrating I have ever read, and his masterpiece Miracles is no exception.

These days, when it is fashionable even in Christian circles to deny or at least diminish the supernatural nature of the Gospel, the issue of miracles deserves all the more attention.

The naturalists desire to recast Jesus as merely a "good teacher" who went around doing "charitable things." When you read the Gospels, it is very clear that Jesus was a highly controversial, subversive figure who went around doing miraculous things. His whole life was one unbroken miracle - from immaculate conception to transfiguration to resurrection - which miracle we collectively call the incarnation. Lewis appropriately devotes an entire chapter to this incredible truth (Chapter 14: The Grand Miracle).

As might be expected, most of the opposition to miracles comes from the naturalist camp, where modern science - the greedy bastard child of true Science - has repudiated any compunctions about reverent inquiry and attempted to claim the supreme throne of the universe. (1 Tim. 6:20)

Faith does not aim to obstruct Science. However, just as a mother ought not to be forever pandering to every petty whim of her enthusiastic but often errant child, Faith must not be going out of her way to accommodate Science. Doing so always proves ruinous to Her sovereign and serene position in the world.

(Of course, this serenity, when maintained even and unruffled, annoys modern science to no end, seeing how it desires to corrupt us from anything that is absolute, and especially anything that remotely resembles morality.)

The Christian response must be the same as it has always been: namely, to believe God, and to act on that belief. God does not have the last word because He is incompatible with Science, but rather because He invented it. The builder knows much more about the building than we tenants could ever know - for all we can do is observe it and take hesitating notes. The best way to understand the building is to ask the builder, just as the best way to understand a story is to ask the author. Granted, we may get "inside" the building or "inside" the story, but this is precisely the reason our understanding is so inadequate, for we cannot properly get "outside" or "before" either of them. (Of course, all of this presupposes Divine Creation, which is in itself a miracle of no mean proportion. But I will leave this question to more able apologists than I.)

I'm almost through the 6-volume Signature Classics series - just The Problem of Pain left. After that, it's on to Narnia, or perhaps God in the Dock. I'll still be a long ways from completing the entire bibliography, but I'll be doing quite well as far as what's on my shelf, and for now that's my main concern.

"Speak about beauty, truth and goodness, or about a God who is simply the indwelling principle of these three, speak about a great spiritual force pervading all thigns, a common mind of which we are all parts, a pool of generalised spirituality to which we can all flow, and you will command friendly interest. But the temperature drops as soon as you mention a God who has purposes and performs particular actions, who does on thing and not another, a concrete, choosing, commanding, prohibiting God with a determinate character. People become embarrassed or angry. Such a conception seems to them primitive and crude and even irreverent. The popular 'religion' excludes miracles because it excludes the 'living God' of Christianity and believes instead in a kind of God who obviously would not do miracles, or indeed anything else." - Ch. 11, Christianity And 'Religion'

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Turning Over Tables

Occasionally when I'm down in the city I'll stop by Berean and browse the clearance books. I've found some useful (and not-so-useful) titles in this way, usually at a generous discount.

While it is true I do shop there, and sometimes fancy that I almost enjoy the experience, I must take issue with Berean's self-branding as a "Christian Store." Berean is not a Christian store. Berean is a religious store. There is a difference.

The spiritual squalor of the place never ceases to appall me. From the toothless grinning vegetables that gape at you from the children's section, to the glaring punk musicians that make Peter Jackson's Orcs look positively friendly, to the shameless nonsense advertised on the covers of cheap dating books, the whole thing begs the classic question: "Where are we going, and why are we in this handbasket?"

You may have noticed that the restroom in the back invariably smells of microwave popcorn. Last time I was there, I could not help but imagine the Devil kicking back with some buttery Redenbacher's in one of the back corners of the store, wickedly snickering to himself, finding the whole scene supremely entertaining, not to mention gratifying.

We are greatly deceived if we think that the cultural presence these stores provide scores an automatic point for Christianity. It doesn't. The Devil is perfectly happy to market Christianity, so long as he can vulgarize it, water it down, and generally make it cheap and stupid. (Besides, carnality sells so much better when dressed up as piety anyways. Why do you suppose immorality has been sacramentalized in nearly every pagan culture?)

It's not a Christian store. It's spiritual promiscuity scented with potpourri.


Perhaps you're thinking that it's been too long since I've smashed something and I'll feel better after I get some sleep. Perhaps you're right. But I really believe that there is some serious sabotage going on here and that we need to be awake and on the alert. ("I'm turning shepherds into sheep / And leaders into celebrities / It's holy sabotage - just look around you / 'Cause everything's for sale in the 21st century..." -dW)

None of this is intended to deny the relevance of Philippians 1:15-18 to this situation. Proclaiming Christ - "in pretense, or in truth" - always constitutes a miscalculation on the Devil's part. The name "Jesus" is eternally invested with a sublime power - whether uttered in anger, apathy or adoration. Indeed, one of the best arguments for Christianity is simply "all the fuss." G.K. Chesterton, recalling his own spiritual journey, speaks of the "odd effect of the great agnostics in arousing doubts deeper than their own:"

As I read and re-read all the non-Christian or anti-Christian accounts of the faith, from Huxley to Bradlaugh, a slow and awful impression grew gradually but graphically upon my mind - the impression that Christianity must be a most extraordinary thing. - G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Doubleday, p. 85

You can still buy a plain Bible at Berean, provided you have the patience to sift through the reference versions annotated by the gurus and the teeny-bopper or God-and-graffiti ones marketed to the teenagers. Since we are all so blessedly "individual," we must of course also have the full round of "I-am-me-and-there-is-no-other" editions: "The Sportsman's Bible"; "The Teacher's Bible"; "The Sailor's Bible"; "The Policeman's Bible"; even "The Golfer's Bible." If these titles were tongue-in-cheek it would be funny. They're not, and it's not.

"Excuse me, Sir, where can I find a 'Sinner's Bible'?"

Image courtesy of wga.hu

Priuses, Politics and Poverty

I am not a scientist.

Then again, maybe I am - in the sense that I like to understand the way things work, and why. But I can do without the test tubes and molecular structures. It's more about enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face than calculating precisely how much vitamin D you're absorbing.

Politics has had science in a headlock for some time now over the issue of global warming. Not being a scientist, I do not claim to know how much is honest and how much is hullabaloo: let's just say my faculty of suspicion is alive and well.

Some of it claims to be serious; most of it is downright stupid. Green is "in": drive a Prius, eat asparagus, do yoga, save the earth.

It is a noble idea, this saving the earth is. So noble that droves of people are enlisting without even asking who the enemy is. And therein lies the danger, for the aim of most politicians is to make you too queasy for questions. Al Gore has built an entire political career around the temperature of the North Pole.

Whatever truth there may be to global warming, the plain fact remains that the whole thing falls flat on its face when stacked against a pressing worldwide menace like poverty. Starvation is killing people - every three seconds - as millions of dollars are spent to avert a contrived disaster that is hundreds of years away. The Bible has a good bit more to say about caring for the poor then it does about cooling the planet. So what is the problem?

The problem is that poverty is too easy. Indeed, Jesus himself noted the stark simplicity of the task. There are plenty of honest, efficient relief organizations working hard to help the poor. Local Rescue Missions covet our support. It's as obvious and uncomplicated as writing a check.

Forget about carbon offsets. Share your lunch.

Image courtesy of harmsy.freeuk.com

On Thinking Christianly

The Christian Mind, Harry Blamires

This read continues my hitch-hiker exploration of Christian intellectualism. As his thesis, Blamires argues that "there is no Christian mind; there is no shared field of discourse in which we can move at ease as thinking Christians by trodden ways and past established landmarks." (-Part 1, Ch. 1, The Surrender To Secularism) This may seem an astonishing claim, and while I feel that he may have overstated the situation a bit, he does bring up some interesting points.

There is an atmosphere of tension, and perhaps something of a misunderstanding, surrounding this matter of Christian vs. Secular wisdom. We know from 1 Corinthians 1 that the things of God are foolishness to the world, but let's not start boring holes in the bottom of the boat just yet. We don' t pursue foolishness in order to apprehend the wisdom of God; we pursue the wisdom of God, knowing that we may often be perceived as fools by the world. We do not court foolishness, or influence, or relevance, or anything else: we seek first the Kingdom of God, and He arranges us as He sees fit. "The Christian faith is important because it is true. What it happens to achieve, in ourselves or in others, is another and, strictly speaking, secondary matter." (-Part 2, Ch. 3, Its Conception Of Truth)

American Christianity has been exercising all the wrong muscles. It's high time we replace static ideology with verdant poise - obnoxious aggression with simply being ready, to give an answer, not a judgment. Jesus always gave people answers. But we're too busy for that, because to give an answer you have to understand both the question and the questioner. Judgments are more economical.

Probably the best definition given by Blamires for what he is advocating is this: "Not that we should convert, bu that we should be understood. Not that the Christian mind should become the immediate and overwhelming vehicle of all truth to all men, but that the Christian mind should be recognized for what it is: something different, something distinctive, something with depth, hardness, solidity; a pleasure to fight with and a joy to be beaten by." (-Part 2, Ch. 2, Its Supernatural Orientation)

Of course, Blamires' concept of "thinking Christianly," which he develops in Part 2, is unavoidably tainted with his own biases, and the somewhat disproportional nature of the book's foundational arguments is damaging. While this one earned its share of question marks in the margin, there are also many worthwhile insights. I guess I would say it's quite good without being one of the best.

Thinking About Division

Perusing a recent book-sale acquisition, (The Comfortable Pew, by Pierre Berton) I opened to a section where the author was dealing with what he called "Pre-Packaged Morality," arguing that pre-marital promiscuity is not always wrong. (In 1965!) *Ahem.* I guess I feel that certain things are open to discussion and certain things are, well, not. Red smoke. Book, meet wastebasket.

This man, (whoever he was) was claiming to represent and speak for part of the body, and I have just dispatched with him rather unceremoniously. Am I justified? Could this be another question of choosing Paul, Apollos, or Cephas? Division is carnal, isn't it?

We too easily forget that Jesus didn't exactly come to bring peace (at least, as we know it). There is a slashing sword - like the sword at the entrance to the garden - that continually surrounds who He was, who He is, what He said, what He says, and what He stands for. There is truly a "peace of God," but it doesn't necessarily mean just getting along with everybody. (Jesus began the redefinition of peace in John 14:27.) As Rich Mullins said so discreetly, “Peace is not the opposite of conflict—it is the opposite of chaos.”

It is a truism to say that division is carnal, but the statement must be qualified contextually. Working off this key scripture, we conclude that, for the divisive, it is evil; for the devout, it is unavoidable. Which brings us to the classic question: who is divisive and who is devout?

The answer is somewhat obscured in that the devout often appear to be taking divisive action. But, before we gnash our teeth and stone them, we would do well to take a moment and consider. If my hand were to become gangrenous, it is my plain duty, out of concern for the rest of my body, to cut it off. In so doing, I appear guilty of blatant divisiveness in the dramatic flash of the knife, and it is at precisely this juncture where we must take things one step further; for what is worse, the act of division or the occasion which necessitates it? The gangrenous hand, although in no hurry to leave, is nevertheless more guilty of division than the healthy hand that cuts it off. The healthy hand for its part does not specifically enjoy the act, it simply must be done.

But we're not out of the woods yet, because we have still to deal with the issue of minority, as Stephen of Acts 7 was anything but a gangrenous hand. Disagreeing with the establishment makes you a heretic, but, Christianly speaking, it doesn't make you wrong. Indeed, being ostracized, imprisoned, or burned at the stake usually means you're on to something, as seen both historically and scripturally. The point that must be grasped is that it is possible for the devout to find themselves on either side of the equation, as sometimes a body cutting of a gangrenous hand and sometimes a goldfish being bullied in a pool of sharks.

The bad news is there's no formula, and the good news is there's no formula.

Pictures of Jesus

One of the advantages to having never watched movies like "The Passion," or "The Jesus Film," is that my imagination has remained free to picture Jesus in fresh ways. My parents recognized the dangers associated with these kinds of influences early on, and I'm thankful. Every time I read the Gospels, I try to let the written words become spoken words - sometimes shouted, or hissed, or whispered. Languid black and white scenes are colored in with facial expressions, meals, the sound of laughter, the drama aboard a Galilee fishing boat. And the story is never the same twice.

Toward the end of John 1, in twos and threes, the disciples begin to discover Jesus. After Philip rouses the skeptical Nathanael, Jesus greets him:

"'Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!' Nathanael saith unto him, 'Whence knowest thou me?' Jesus answered and said unto him, 'Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee.' Nathanael answered and saith unto him, 'Rabbi! Thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel.'"

I love this next part. With a twinkle in his eye, maybe even chuckling, "Jesus answered and said unto him, 'Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? Thou shalt see greater things than these!'" - John 1:47-50

It is common to hear "the book is better than the movie." In extreme cases, the movie is so bad that it ruins the book entirely. Let's let the Bible tell its own story.

I'd Rather be a Fool

I'd rather be a fool
I'd rather be a liar
I'd rather not be cool
I'd rather not go higher
If that's what Jesus means
I'd rather be unclean
Tell me, what does Jesus mean?
What does Jesus mean?

Identity Christ-is

Talking with a friend recently, the subject of identity came up. What are we, anyway? Jesus freaks? Anabaptists? Absolutists? Liars? All of the above?

I think we need to say we're Christians: I don't see any way around it. I know everyone claims to have a corner on truth, and in some ways it seems arrogant to assume this designation. Sort of like the irony in saying you're non-denominational. Yeah, right.

But there's another side to it. As Christians, we are appealling to the ultimate standard of orthodoxy: Jesus Christ himself. This should be a profoundly humbling thing. It celebrates and passes on a heritage we can take no credit for. (Acts 11:26b)

I think we need to say 'Look, we're no better than our fathers. We're just trying to listen, think, and live. Gimme that old time religion... it's good enough for me.' We are Christians. If other people want to call us something else I guess that's OK. That's how we got Methodists and Waldensians and Anabaptists anyway right?

I'm not a Catholic. I'm not a Protestant. I'm not even an Anabaptist.

But quite often I am a liar.

Self-Realization?

"Whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it. " - Luke 17:33

I easily lose sight of the uncompromising sternness in the teaching of Jesus. The price and logic of the Cross was very real to Him, and He intended to communicate that seriousness--that urgency--to His disciples. I doubt it was any less radical to them than it is to me.

Modern society has witnessed the idolatry of the individual, and many of us, in varying degrees, have bought into it. The notion that it is my responsibility to make something of myself cannot be traced back to God. It is rather my responsibility to make something of YOU.

Oswald Chambers, in characteristic gut-wrenching style, puts it this way:

"The initiative of the saint is not towards self-realization, but towards knowing Jesus Christ... We are not here to develop a spiritual life of our own, or to enjoy spiritual retirement; we are here so to realize Jesus Christ that the Body of Christ may be built up. Am I building up the Body of Christ, or am I looking for my own personal development only?"

Does that ever hit home! And, as a principle, it even goes beyond home. Chambers continues:

"The Church ceases to be a spiritual society when it is on the look-out for the development of its own organization. The rehabilitation of the human race on Jesus Christ's plan means the realization of Jesus Christ in corporate life as well as in individual life."

It is easy to forget that you have been bought with a price and that any independence you once claimed (or fancied) must be made subservient to God's purpose and God's glory. The worldly man may go where he pleases, but when once I have locked my radar on heaven, it is up to God to determine how He gets me there. The analogy of the plough we find in the gospels is a helpful one. It is impossible to become an accomplished ploughman through introspection and self-improvement. The entire purpose of the ploughman is to make a straight furrow, and the only way to do that is to get your eyes off yourself and onto something a little less relative.