So I’m not officially back as a regular blogger – I’ve needed a break to reflect on some important upcoming milestones in my life, and I’m not done taking this break yet – but I have some material I put together for another venue that I think will make for decent blogging. At Real Life (the church where I am a pastor), we do an annual “Q&A Sunday,” where some of the pastors and laypeople host a Q&A session with the people in our church. Some questions are planned ahead of time, but about half are based on questions asked from the audience during our time together. We’re doing this in a few weeks, and my boss asked me to offer some thoughts on a few questions that always come up. So I did. And as I did, I thought to myself, “I should blog this stuff.” So here I am, blogging this stuff. The answers are mid-length – brief when compared with all that needs to be said, and long when compared to what we have time to explain on Sunday – so I think they provide a decent introduction into how I approach the issues. Here are the questions (his wording, not mine):

How do we know God exists?
Why does God allow pain and suffering?
If Jesus is the only way to Heaven, what about people from other religions?
What is our church’s view on homosexuality?
How can we trust the Bible?

Starting tomorrow (if I have computer access; otherwise starting Wednesday) I will post my reflections on these questions every two or three days. I hope you enjoy thinking about these things, and as always I welcome any and all feedback.
...

PS I received some pretty heated comments from someone in Melbourne a few posts ago. I will gladly and I hope graciously respond to them soon!
...

Since I clearly haven't had much of worth to say lately, I'll share some less important thoughts. I recently had an email conversation with my friend Nick about who should win the NBA MVP award this year. I don't expect many of you to care about this, but for those of you who do, enjoy! (And tell me if I'm wrong!) In response to my question about who would win, he made some good points. Here's what he said:

This is the craziest year for MVP discussion. Kobe should win it because he hasn't yet. Lebron should win it because of the best individual season (Kobe fans normally argue this for Kobe, but Lebron's 30 pts, 8 rbs, 7 asts, 2 stls and a block per game is impossible to beat). Chris Paul should win it because when he elevated his game he brought the Hornets with him. KG should win it because his presence on the Celtics created the biggest single season turnaround for a franchise in NBA history. I don't know who should win. I think my ballot would be...

1. KG
2. Lebron
3. Kobe
4. Chris Paul

But it is a pretty competitive year for MVP's. Luckily next year will be easier, because Lebron will win his first of 10 consecutive MVP awards!

And here was my (ridiculously long) response:

About the MVP race, I feel you that it is definitely closer than ever. The past few years have brought out all the problems involved in an important award without established criteria. Here are my thoughts on your thoughts. Naturally, I’m going to defend a higher place for Kobe :), but let’s start from the top of your list.

KG: I hear what you’re saying about KG, but three factors put him in third place for me: (1) he has a less overall impressive stat line than the others; (2) more importantly, he has two other established superstars, which normally works against contenders in this race; (3) the last point especially becomes important given that when KG has been injured (which hasn’t been much), the Celtics didn’t exactly fall apart. In fact, they didn’t really lose a step. The other three teams (Lakers, Hornets, Cavs) would have crumbled without their stars.

Lebron: I have no problem with Lebron, but let me modify the typical “Kobe fan” argument. There’s no doubting that Lebron James has the most impressive stat line, or that he will win more MVPs than anybody in history, or that he’s a bigger, stronger version of Kobe and probably even Michael. BUT, if an impressive stat line on a mediocre team wins you the MVP, then to me there is no doubt that Kobe should’ve won it last year, and perhaps the last two years. But if those years teach us anything about this award, it is that your team needs to be at or near the top for you to be a viable contender. (I think this changes the award from something other than what the initials “MVP” represent, but it is what it is, I guess.)

Chris Paul and Kobe:
I would have no problem with CP winning the award (though, as a fan of Kobe, I obviously want him to get it this year, since I think that CP and LJ will be duking it out for the award for the next decade). However, there are two reasons I would still give the nod to Kobe. First and foremost, the race for the West. The race for the number one seed in arguably the toughest conference in NBA history (perhaps a bit overstated, but not much) came down to these two guys and their two teams. What’s more, this race featured a head-to-head matchup between them toward the very end of the season. And Kobe’s Lakers won (on both accounts). Because I think these two guys are both so deserving of the award, I think this factor gives Kobe the nod.

Second, and less important but still worthy of mention, Kobe has carried his team through more adversity, by which I mean injuries. Of course, on the other hand, CP has done what he’s done with less overall talent. I think these two factors basically cancel each other out, which is why I put so much weight on who won the top seed. (And I suppose the whole “lifetime achievement” should count for something, speaking from a history of the game perspective – it would be a shame for someone so good never to win the award, and Paul will certainly have many chances in the future. But I don’t like it as an argument, simply because I don’t think it’s necessary.)

Honestly, and this may come as little surprise, I think Kobe hasn’t gotten enough credit as a leader this year. I fully admit that he was a horrible leader in the past, but I really think he’s stepped it up this year. They lost their second-best player for over half the season, and then adjusted to a new second-best player midway through. (The Kidd-Dallas fiasco has taught us that adding a superstar can be as complicated as it is helpful, and the Lakers accomplished this seamlessly.) Kobe should get some (not all!) credit for this. Moreover, one of the primary factors in the MVP race has been who “makes the other players better.” I think this is very valid, but we need to allow for this to happen in different ways (or point guards will always have the upper hand in these debates). Kobe has always said, “I lead by example.” I always thought this was a copout, and it might still be (I’m certainly aware of my lack of objectivity here!), but the one thing that no one can deny is that Kobe is one of the hardest workers in the game. And if you look at some of the guys around him – especially Jordan Farmar and Andrew Bynum – it seems clear that this commitment to working hard and improving your game has rubbed off. In short, his whole “leading by example” sounds less and less like an excuse, and more like what might actually be taking place (finally).

All that said, I think my ballot would be:

1. Kobe
2. CP3
3. KG
4. Lebron

No matter who wins this year, I think next year we’ll be talking about the same four guys, as well as Dwight Howard. (The only reason we’ll be talking about Kobe is because the Lakers will run away with the West!) But we shall soon find out, and I’ll be happy whoever it is!

...

Sorry I haven't been posting much at all. Life comes at you fast. As I mentioned in the last post, I'm in the middle of a seminar on "world religions" at Real Life called We Are Not Alone. Since I don't have much time to read or think about other stuff (like the books I recently promised to blog through) right now, what I post will probably have to do with world faiths and stuff. At the beginning of the seminar, I wanted to be honest and forthright about my assumptions coming in. There is much that I do not understand about this whole conversation, but like everyone else I have certain assumptions that I bring to the table. Here are some of the most important ones.

What can be known of God is best known by looking at Jesus. This is my way of affirming the uniqueness of Jesus as God's fullest and finalest revelation. Everyone looks at God from somewhere, even the people espousing the whole "all roads lead up the same mountain" (see the poem below). The funny thing about the poem below is that someone is assuming the position of the speaker / observer. And that person makes an implicit claim to know something about God that all the other "religions" miss. I make a similar claim, but I think the answer is not by acting as if we can step outside the historical faiths (which actually involves stepping into yet one more historical faith, this once going by various names: scientific, rationalism, enlightenment, modern, postmodern, etc), but by trusting in Jesus as the way God came to us.

Salvation is about more than what happens to individual humans after they die. First of all, salvation is God's plan for the entire universe. Salvation, for instance, is something creation (or "nature," if you subscribe to the new historical faith mentioned above) looks forward to and will participate in (Romans 8.19-21). Salvation is about all of God's creation being rescued from the disastrous effects of sin. So it is about more than just humans. Humans do nevertheless stand at the center of salvation. This is where the second part comes in; speaking of salvation in terms of humanity, it isn't just about "where we go when we die" (or, more precisely, when Jesus returns). That is certainly important, and I'd never want to deny that at all - like, at all! - but salvation is about freedom from the power of evil and sin and death right here and now. Please understand, I'm not trying to deny the importance of the future, but I am trying to remind us that asking whether a person is "saved" has as much to do with how free they are from sinful ways of thinking and living as it does where they'll go when they die. If anyone cares to ask me to elaborate, feel free and I'll try. (By the way, ARod, I haven't ignored your question; I'm just waiting until I can do it justice.)

God’s saving plan is both “universal” and “particular.” That is to say, everything God does is designed to reach the whole world and all the people in it. He never acts just for this or that group. His plans are as big as the world he created. This is a scandal to some "religious" people who want God to care about only their group. That is also to say, however, that God (for reasons unknown to me) always goes about reaching all people by working in and through particular people (or groups of people). He chose one man out of all the tribes of the earth - Abraham - and promised to bring his blessing through that one family's seed. He remained committed to Israel as his people through whom he would bless the whole world. Etc. So it comes as no difficulty to me to believe that God would remain committed to one person or group as the means through which he will bring salvation to all (or as many as will have it). This is a scandal to many "secular" people, primarily because they fail to recognize that their commitment to universality is but yet another particularity among others.

That's enough for now. I have about five more, but I'll post them bit by bit. Any questions, reflections, or disagreements?

...

I'm starting a seminar on "world religions" this weekend at our church, and I want to begin by reading and reflecting on a well-known poem that best expresses current popular thought on the subject in our culture. It is printed below. What are your thoughts on it? What thoughts or questions does it raise for you? What does it settle or unsettle for you? What are some things I might do with it?

It was six men of Indostan

To learning much inclined,

Who went to see the Elephant

(Though all of them were blind),

That each by observation

Might satisfy his mind.



The First approach'd the Elephant,

And happening to fall

Against his broad and sturdy side,

At once began to bawl:

"God bless me! but the Elephant

Is very like a wall!"



The Second, feeling of the tusk,

Cried, -"Ho! what have we here

So very round and smooth and sharp?

To me 'tis mighty clear

This wonder of an Elephant

Is very like a spear!"



The Third approached the animal,

And happening to take

The squirming trunk within his hands,

Thus boldly up and spake:

"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant

Is very like a snake!"



The Fourth reached out his eager hand,

And felt about the knee.

"What most this wondrous beast is like

Is mighty plain," quoth he,
'Tis clear enough the Elephant 

Is very like a tree!"



The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,

Said: "E'en the blindest man

Can tell what this resembles most;

Deny the fact who can,

This marvel of an Elephant

Is very like a fan!"



The Sixth no sooner had begun

About the beast to grope,

Then, seizing on the swinging tail

That fell within his scope,

"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant

Is very like a rope!"



And so these men of Indostan

Disputed loud and long,

Each in his own opinion

Exceeding stiff and strong,

Though each was partly in the right,

And all were in the wrong!



MORAL:
So oft in theologic wars, 

The disputants, I ween, 

Rail on in utter ignorance 

Of what each other mean, 

And prate about an Elephant 

Not one of them has seen!

John Godfrey Saxe (1816-1887)

(For an ancient version of the story in a different form, visit http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~rywang/berkeley/258/parable.html.)

Third (see below), I have long thought that the accusation of “naive” simply doesn’t make sense when used by a non-pacifist of a pacifist. I get this all the time: “You're being naive. You want a world that doesn’t exist. In the real world, violence is necessary to deal with evil.” So often I want to say, “No, you want a world that doesn’t exist. In the real world, violence simply doesn’t deal effectively with evil - at least not as well as you imply.”

People often bring up Hitler as the prime example of when it was necessary to engage in violence. That may or may not be true, but it is a fact that even though Hitler is now dead, evil continues to wreak havoc on our world. Killing Hitler did not stop the birth and accession to power of men like Saddam Hussein or Osama bin Laden. (I only pick these two because in my culture they are the two most recent and baddest bad guys.) The fact is that we live in a world where evil is and will continue to be, and nothing we can do will change this fact.

Of course one can make the argument that evil must nevertheless be restrained or minimized, and that violence is necessary for this task. First, while the first part is true, it is no way proven, or even likely in my opinion, that continuing the cycle of violence is the most effective way to minimize the world’s violence. Second, even if it were, that says nothing about the responsibility of Jesus-followers to participate in this violent restraint. If it is true that our central task is not effectiveness in making the world a bit safer place, but rather faithfulness to the gospel and lordship of Jesus the Messiah, then the whole point is moot. (Again, I’m oversimplifying, but it really does seem this clear to me, at least some of the time.)

As for the main point I’m trying to make, I was glad to see Carter similarly picking apart this idea that pacifists are somehow more naive than non-pacifists when it comes to living in a violent evil world. We must all first acknowledge what can and cannot be expected to result from our attempts to mitigate evil, whether through the use or the rejection of violence. No program or system or commitment is going to rid the world of evil and/or war. And, second, we must allow this realism to bring to light how we are and should evaluate our actions in this regard. Which question is more important: What actions will most effectively minimize evil and suffering in this world? What actions will most faithfully witness to the gospel and lordship of Jesus Christ? Perhaps they are the same question; then again, perhaps not. (And now, by the way, we come full circle, for it makes no sense to opt for the second question apart from the reality and promise of resurrection.)

...

Second (see below), I've been thinking lots lately about the significance of confessing Jesus as "fully God, fully man." For a long time I haven't given much weight to such theological affirmations (scary, I know), because I could not see how they mattered or were essential to the Scriptural gospel. I wrote them off as fourth century Greekified aberrations from (or at least unnecessary formulations of) New Testament truth. But thanks to some suggestions from I don't remember where, I came to see that confessing this means that Jesus becomes determinative for our portrait of true divinity and our paradigm of true humanity.

That is, believing that Jesus was fully God means that any picture of "God" that isn't congruent with Jesus is not (faithfully) describing the One True God. (In my estimation, this would include the Calvinist God, as well as the God who can't allow sinful people into his presence, or who must punish people even though he doesn't want to.)

Moreover, believing that Jesus was fully human means that his whole life is a model of what it means to be truly and faithfully human. We should therefore pattern our entire lives after his life - including the so-called public or political parts - which I of course think means renouncing the use of violence even in defense of justice (among many other things).

In addition to confirming the convictions that were already developing in me, Carter highlighted a totally new thought for me in this regard. It is often said that Nicene Christology (i.e. Christ as fully God and fully man) is more Greek than Hebrew in that it separates thinking about Jesus from the actual Christ of history. That may in some ways have been the case, but Carter argues the opposite: by affirming that it was in the form of a fully human life that God embodied Godself, we can never separate our thinking of God from the specific life of this Jew from Nazareth. (This is important because otherwise Jesus becomes part of some "god" totally disconnected from us and our real lives.) Taken this way, Nicene Christology, at least in theory though often not in practice, totally affirms and protects the humanness and thus the Jewishness of our Messiah-Savior-Lord.

...

I recently read an incredibly important book (!) for understanding how the church has gotten to where we are today, as well as what choices faces us as we approach tomorrow: Craig Carter's Rethinking Christ and Culture. The whole book is a re-analysis of what H. Richard Niebuhr called "the enduring problem" - how Christ (and/or) the chrch relates to culture. Regardless of whether you've ever heard of him, Niebuhr has shaped the way all of us think - at least those of us who are Christian and American and have lived any time from 1950 to today. In 1951 he wrote a book called Christ and Culture, which was an instant classic and has been read as a textbook in colleges and seminaries ever since. In this book Niebuhr laid out five options for how Christ has been and can be related to culture by his followers: Christ of culture, Christ against culture, Christ above culture, Christ and culture in paradox, and Christ transforming culture. Among other things, this work popularized the idea that pacifist Christians can only remain pacifist at teh expense of responsible engagement with society.

Carter's book is a thorough critique of Niebuhr's work; Carter's main gripe is that Niebuhr fails to account for the underlying assumption between all five types: Carter calls "Christendom," which basically refers to a world where the church functions as the religious arm of the state as part of a unified system in which both are seen as partners in God's efforts to run the world. I'm oversimplifying horribly, and I'll try to offer a better analysis after the other books I promised to blog through, but for now I just want to mention a fe specific things. Oh, let me say one more general thing about the book first: Carter locates the dividing line between faithful and unfaithful Christian approaches to culture precisely at the church's willingness (or nonwillingness) to engage in state-sponsored violence of any kind. Very interesting.

In this and the next few posts I'll discuss a few specific points Carter made that line up exactly with thoughts I've been having lately. It was actually eerie at one point, when Carter made the very same claim I tried to articulate in the last post: "Like Jesus, we are called to live lives that make no sense if there is no such thing as the resurrection of the dead" (208). I know, crazy! :) Let me say again that I think this is absolutely crucial to following Jesus faithfully. How we talk about God (theology), how we aim to be good and do right (ethics), how we lead churches, how we pray, how we get and stay married (or don't get married at all), how we raise children (whether ours or someone else's) and everything else in our lives must be founded upon, line up with, and draw its resources from the central reality of resurrection. Stating it bluntly, to the extent that our lives and choices fail to require resurrection in order to make sense, they should not be described as "Christian."

...

Wow, what a delay! We have had a very busy few weeks at Real Life and in my own home - preparing for and having our Easter services, entertaining and guiding an Ozark team who spent Spring Break helping us out, catching up on meals with friends we haven't sat down with in a while, hosting my mother-in-law, etc. I fully intend to continue posting through The Change of Conversion and the Origin of Christendom, as well as N. T. Wright's Resurrection and the Son of God (maybe!). But I want to issue a very brief easter plea to all those out there who consider themselves followers of Jesus.

My plea is this: may we live in ways that don't make sense apart from the resurrection. It seems very clear to me that this is a central truth that must be emphasized time and again: our lives should not make sense without the resurrection. We should be living and loving and laughing and losing and dying in a way that forces people to ask questions about us, questions to which "Jesus rose from the dead" is the only adequate answer. Let me offer a few particulars and a few examples.

The way we grieve should not make sense apart from the resurrection. We believe that "resurrection" reveals to us the pattern of God's eventual renewal of all things. This means that our deceased loved ones will receive back their bodies - renewed, transformed, incorruptible bodies. And this means that we will live together with them on a renewed earth - planning, learning, building, singing, leading, playing, and doing whatever else you do on a new earth.

The way we pray should not make sense apart from the resurrection. We believe that God has made us part of his new creation here and now, so that our whole lives are (or can be) touch-points of heaven and earth, places where the curtain separating the two is drawn back a bit. When we pray, we are participating in the process of the world's renewal (which has something to do with what Paul said in Romans 8), and most of all, we are looking forward to a time in which God's presence will be our immediate atmosphere. We are anticipating God's future here and now.

The way we work should not make sense apart from the resurrection. I don't know exactly how this works, but Paul ends his longest exposition of resurrection with a call not to sit back and wait for God to finish the job, but to work tirelessly even now since we know our labor in the Lord is not in vain (see 1 Corinthians 15).

Perhaps most of all, the way we love should not make sense apart from the resurrection. Jesus' resurrection validated his person and message - he was and is God's anointed king sent to deliver the world from sin. He is thus one to be listened to above all else; this alone calls us to a unique kind of love - for the enemy and attacker. Moreover, we know that death cannot keep us (as it could not keep Jesus) and we therefore need not fear it; we are thus freed to love to the point of death, suffering at the hands of (and perhaps on behalf of) whoever might seek our lives to protect their own power. In some mysterious way, we believe in resurrection, which means we believe in God's power to reverse the normal sequence of things and use even our deaths to further his plan to redeem the world.

Those are a few (quickly put together) specifics; now for an example. I can't help but think of my friends in Japan right now, or of my siblings elsewhere in East Asia. They packed up their bags and headed to a country with very few Christians because they believe Jesus is the world's only true Savior and Lord. They are calling all people to faithfulness to this new Lord, and announcing the offer of a new way of life, a new salvation. Why are they doing this? Because Jesus rose from the dead. Their lives don't make sense apart from the resurrection. May this be true of us all.

...

Over the next bit, I’ll be blogging through a little book called The Change of Conversion and the Origin of Christendom by Alan Kreider. I have chosen this book for three main reasons. First, I’ve wanted to read and absorb it for a long time, and blogging through it provides this opportunity. Second, at Real Life we’re presently revisiting what it means to “cross the line” from non-Christian to Christian in our context, and I think this book will provide important insight. And third, those of you who responded to my survey of topics expressed interest in how the church should relate to culture, the church in relation to the use of power (and violence), etc, all topics this book deals with in (I think) an unique fashion.

Kreider aims to better understand the changes that took place in the church during the fourth century (when the Christian faith was legalized and standardized by Constantine and his heirs) by examining their practice of conversion. If we look at how the process of becoming a Christian changed throughout early church history, especially with the beginning of the period called ‘Christendom’, perhaps we will better understand the larger transformation of the church during this time.

In the Introduction Kreider lays out three goals: (1) Tell stories of early conversions in an attempt to distill the essence of conversion during this period. He will analyze these conversions in terms of belief, belonging, and behavior. (2) Attempt to chronicle the changing nature of conversion. He states that as the church gained the power to compel (even force) adherence, the meaning and process of conversion was altered. While some of the words and actions remained part of the package, the relationship of the parts within the package shifted. (3) Look closely at the phenomenon called ‘Christendom’. (Generally, by the way, this term is used to describe a world in which Christianity and the ‘secular’ powers of government are wed together and attempt to co-rule the world.)

I am excited to learn about these things, and I think studies like this can be very helpful to our current 21st century post-Christian situation. We are for the first time in seventeen hundred years in a world in which Christianity is no longer ‘dominant’ in the wider culture. I think this is to be celebrated, but it brings lots of scary realities with it too. As for possible critique, I’m a bit leery of forcing ‘conversion’ to fit within the boxes of belief, belonging, and behavior; I just hope he lets history bend his boxes rather than the other way around.

Let me end with a question: How is conversion practiced in your faith community? (Or in past faith communities of which you’ve been a part?) No complicated analysis needed – just a general description of what is constant and central in the process. How does one cross the line and become a follower of Jesus? If you’re not comfortable with (or capable of) speaking for your entire community, what would you say to a non-Christian who asked you how to ‘cross the line’?

...

Okay, well in the last post you have all given me much to think and write about, and I will TRY to do what I can in the future. For now let me offer one more tidbit from the National Pastors Convention. One of the seminars I attended was a conversation on Christianity and Politics between Chuck Colson, Greg Boyd, and Shane Claiborne (moderated by Krista Tippett).

I want to highlight a difference between Boyd and Colson. On the issue of abortion, Colson will not budge that Christians must be and vote pro-life no matter what; to do differently is to call into question their Christian faithfulness.

Boyd brings a different approach. His burden is to call all Christians to be 'kingdom people' who manifest the reign of God here and now. And he often says that means living and looking like Jesus. "Our job is to be a giant Jesus in the world," he says. For him this is an all-encompassing calling; there are no areas of life where other rules or principles supersede the call to look like Jesus. When it comes to politics (in the sense of passing laws and making policy, etc), he seems to affirm three main points:

1. What we do in the church is more substantial than what happens in 'political' realms.

2. When Christians enter the 'political' realm, they should participate as Christians, i.e. Kingdom-people. They should seek Kingdom ends by Kingdom means.

3. Even among sincere, devout Christians, this will not result in identical strategies. We should be okay with differences in the way kingdom people approach socio-political issues so long as they're still manifesting God's kingdom.

Take, for instance, the issue of abortion. Boyd affirms that all Christians should aim for less abortions. One Christian might think the best way to achieve this is to always vote in pro-life candidates. On the other hand, however, another Christian might look at the problem and say, “The ‘left’ and ‘right’ are so divided, and neither side will budge for fear that they’ll lose everything (give ‘em an inch and they’ll take it a mile). We can keep voting in pro-lifers all we want, but meanwhile abortions are still happening and policy changes are not likely to occur.” They might conclude that the best way to minimize abortions is to vote in a candidate who will seek a compromising solution between parties (even if they’re 'pro-choice'). (Boyd recognizes that there’s much more to these issues than voting in candidates; he's using this to illustrate the larger point.)

I think this is insightful. Not that I fully agree with either position, but I think he has a point about the possibility of strategy differences on the part of equally committed Christians. Colson responded by telling a story about Mother Teresa coming to a congressional breakfast and telling them all to not allow any more abortions. He then condescendingly patted Boyd on the arm and said, “I’m glad she had the courage to take a stand on such an important issue” (or something to that effect). Out of respect for Colson’s age, faith, and ministry efforts in the prisons, I’ll leave his comments commentary-less and let you all think what you want.

Anyhow, what do you think about Boyd’s approach? Does it make sense? Do you like it? Dislike it? Agree? Disagree? Where are his blind spots? What do you think is a Christian’s responsibility in these matters?

Let me make this more concrete: Would you ever support or vote for a pro-choice candidate? Why or why not?

...

So I have been thinking about some different things to blog about over the next lil' bit, and while I think I have made up my mind to some degree, I thought it would be fun to find out what questions and issues you are interested in. This should be really simple, taking no more than a minute. I'm not looking for serious reflection (though it is always welcome), but rather your initial thoughts. Here's what I want to do. I'm going to offer a short list of questions and topics that interest me right now, and I want you to pick a few and rank them in terms of how much (or little) they interest you. Try to pick the four or five that most interest you. If you want to rank more or even all of them, go for it! (Also feel free to add write-ins!)

Here are the topics in no particular order, and with some overlap:

- heaven and hell
- the emerging church
- Christianity and politics in America
- history of the church
- basic Christian beliefs / doctrine
- Christian pacifism / nonviolence
- how the church relates to culture
- atonement (different views, etc)
- homosexuality in Scripture and church
- divorce in Scripture and church
- women in leadership
- Christianity and world religions
- the current presidential campaign

Since my original February question of the month was too daunting (I guess) for all but a few of you (still eagerly awaiting Ty's response :) ), let's make this the one where everyone comments at least once. ;)

...

Wow. What a convention. Seriously, I had an absolutely wonderful time. I shook N. T. Wright's hand, met and talked briefly with Greg Boyd, heard an excellent (!) sermon from John Ortberg that hit me square between the eyes, was impressed with Shane Claiborne's gentle winsomeness, bought a bunch of books at half price (and got a few more free), and became very interested in this phenomena that goes by the name "emerging church." There is so much to say about this convention and I could not possibly do it all justice, so I'm just going to highlight a few things. First, I want to offer some one-liners from Shane Claiborne. Let me just say, first, that he is like Matt Proctor with dreadlocks. The guys quotes everyone. Numerous times (in an interview/conversation between him, Greg Boyd, and Chuck Colson on Christianity and Politics) he quoted someone, from Billy Graham to Jim Wallis to Jesus himself. And he's pretty quotable from himself. Here are some of the things he said in a presentation of his new book Jesus for President.

We didn’t choose politics; politics chose us. We chose to love a group of people whose survival was political.

You don’t choose issues, you choose people, and you deal with whatever issues arise out of that. (When once asked which issues are most important for the church)

Instead of complaining about the church we see, let’s be the church we dream of.

If you want to know what we believe, look at how we live.

We’re not going to settle for the American dream; we’re running after the dream of God.

We’ve grown up in a Christian subculture where you can have a Hummer as long as you put a Christian fish on it.

The church is God’s central instrument for embodying hope and the Kingdom of God in the world, and we can’t expect the government to do that.

We’re not waiting for Congress to figure out the immigration crisis. We have a Bible that teaches us how to treat outsiders and aliens.

Our litmus test for everything is, Does it look like Jesus? Does it radiate the kingdom of God?

The good news is that we’ve found the hope of the world, and it looks a lot better than all the other options out there.

I just fell in love with Jesus and I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.

If we lose this generation to the gospel, it won’t be because we made it too hard but because we made it too easy.

...

I really don't think I've ever seen anything like this. It needs no commentary. (Thanks to Andy Storms for sending me to it at ragamuffinsoul.com!)



...

Hello friends. This post is for everyone, so keep reading. (TAS, I'll try to keep it short :) .) I'm spending the week down in San Diego for the National Pastors Convention, and so far it has been enjoyable. I'm thinking that rather than posting on everything I'm doing as part of the conference, I'll throw up some central insights after the thing is over. So for now, I'd like to ask you all a question. A few weeks ago I asked a question about starting a Muslim school that generated a lot of responses. Thanks for that! I learned a few things from that. One, more people visit the blog than I realized. Two, people are willing to participate if you ask them. Three, most people will be done after one (or two) comments at the most. So here's what I'm thinking. I'm planning on asking a "question of the month" for a while. This is the one time I ask you to seriously consider throwing in your two cents. You don't have to, of course. But I'd love for you to.

This month's question came out of reading a book called Courageous Leadership. Rather than offering a long critique of what I did and didn't like, I thought I'd do something the book encouraged. Hybels (the author) encourages readers to figure out what their own core beliefs actually are. Not what are they supposed to be. Not can you quote this passage or that creed. Not what's your favorite traditional Christian doctrine. But really, on a daily basis, what governs and guides you more than anything else. For example, one of your core beliefs might be, "People should follow the rules." This might come out in your intolerance for truant students or illegal driving maneuvers or any number of ways. Perhaps one of your core beliefs might be, "Everyone matters to God" or "Knowledge is only helpful if it's practical." It could be anything. I know this is a tough question and that I have the unfair advantage of having thought about it for a while, but I really encourage you all to try and determine your core beliefs. (By the way, we might not like one of our core beliefs, so don't necessarily think in terms of "good things to believe" but what you actually do believe. Also by the way, you can put as few or as many as you want.)

I know this may take some of you a while, which is fine. I'll wait. But I encourage you to try and put something down on paper (or on a comment, as it were) as soon as you can. Okay, without any more delay, let's go for it.

Here are my core beliefs:
( Read more )

I don't think so.

This is the conclusion I've been coming to for a while, anyway, and I am ready to publicly throw in my lot with the rest of those who fall into the camp variously called "conditionalism" or "annihilationism" or "conditional immortality." If you don't know or care about these big words, what I am basically saying (and not saying) is this: while I do believe that hell is (or will be) a reality, and while I do believe that those who reject God's offer of forgiveness and new life will receive a "punishment" of some sort, and while I do believe that this experience will be quite unpleasant, I do not believe it will last forever. Others within "evangelicalism" have come to hold this view, not least John Stott (a very influential and remarkable teacher, writer, theologian, and pastor). I've been flirting with it for a while, based on some studies I did for a class during my last quarter at seminary. Anyhow, I have been convinced enough to declare this publicly. I am not beyond changing my mind, but this is where I currently stand, and I'm about to tell you some of the reasons why.

I have been participating in a discussion about hell here, and during that conversation I was asked to present some of my thoughts about hell. So I did. I am here reprinting what I said there. (Some of my early comments refer to previous comments made in that conversation; if you want to see them, click here.
...

Dave,

First let me say I love what you said about wanting a "lesser punishment" to be true. I get very nervous when people very clearly want the opposite, namely, for sinners to burn forever or something. What angers me more is when they blame these feelings on some idea of God's justice needing to be done. I can't help but think of all sorts of unhealthy and ungodly things behind this line of thinking, but I won't get into it now. (For the record, I'm not alluding to anyone in this discussion; I'm just talking about people I've known in the past.) I will say that they need to some serious homework on what the justice of God meant in Scripture (particularly Paul) and what we often mean by it now. This is one of many cases where our own world clouds our ability to read Scripture rightly. The most frustrating thing in the world is arguing with someone using biblical words to refer to something other than what they mean in the Bible.

This, as you point out, has been done with the language of "hell" and "judgment." I wish I had the time and ability to fulfill your request; I hope to in the future (on both accounts) but am currently just in the beginning stages of thinking through some of these things. I know he's a bad guy in many circles, but Brian McLaren's The Last Word and the Word After That helps raise some of these questions and offers a few clues, though it doesn't offer much by way of an answer. I'm also currently reading N.T. Wright's new book Surprised By Hope and eagerly anticipating the chapter on hell. I think much study needs to be done in (a) Jesus' use of hell language in his historical context; (b) the full concept of God bringing his justice to bear on the world, and (c) the way history has influenced not only our view of hell in general, but our reading of particular texts that bolster our view of hell.

But unfortunately, once again, I am only in the stage of wanting to study these things. I can offer something else though. I have done a bit of reading about the whole annihilation question, and here are what I regard as four key arguments for this position (in very compact form):

1. The fact that the traditional phrase "eternal destruction" can just as easily refer to the permanent result of destruction as the permanent ongoing experience of destruction. This is not a question of taking these words literally or figuratively. It is a question of how these words interpret each other. Eternal of course means forever (though it is perhaps more complex than that, but we'll keep it simple). So whatever we're talking about, it's permanent. This, however, raises the question of what "destruction" means. My dictionary defines the English word as "the action of process of causing so much damage to something that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired" (I realize of course that the word is Greek but the meaning is basically the same; BDAG defines apoleia as "the destruction that one causes or experiences, ruin, annihilation"). Implicit within the meaning of destruction is the concept of annihilation. The question of course is how "eternal" modifies "destruction." On the one hand, does it extend the process of destruction and thus refer to an ongoing experience that never ends? In this case annihilation would not enter into the equation. Or, on the other hand, does eternal refer to the result of the destruction? In this case "destroy" is allowed its more normal meaning of "to put an end to something by damaging or attacking it." Either meaning is possible, and my point is not to conclusively argue for the second, but rather to point out the insufficiency of the argument: "The Bible says the wicked's destruction will be eternal, does it not? How can you be faithful to the Bible and believe in annihilation?" This question, on its own, simply will not do (though it is a question I can see fitting very well on the lips of our interviewer!). As someone else once put it, "Scripture certainly teaches that the wicked are punished eternally, but it does not teach that the wicked endure eternal punishment. The wicked suffer 'eternal punishment' (Matt 25.46), 'eternal judgment' (Heb 6.2), and 'eternal destruction' (2 Thess 1.9) the same way that the elect experience 'eternal redemption' (Heb 5.9; 9.12). The elect do not undergo an eternal process of redemption. Their redemption is eternal in the sense that once the elect are redeemed, it is forever. So, too, the damned do not undergo an eternal process of punishment or destruction. But once they are punished and destroyed, it is forever. Hell is eternal in consequence, not duration." (Boyd and Eddy, Across the Spectrum, 259-260)

2. Most (if not all) of the NT teachings about hell are allusions to OT teachings or events where people actually died (as in, were no longer around). For instance, if it is true that both Noah's flood and Sodom and Gomorrah's fate prefigure the final experience of those who reject God - as Peter teaches in 2 Peter 2.4-10 - then it would make sense to affirm that these people, like those in the ancient stories, will actually die (not just continually experience death, but die). (For many more examples of this pattern, see E. W. Fudge's portions of the book Two Views of Hell).

I want to point out one more example, which was extremely important for my own theological pilgrimage concerning these matters. The most difficult verses for annihilationists to explain are Revelation 14.10-11 and 20.10: "[Those who worship the beast], too, will drink the wine of God's fury, which has been poured full strength into the cup of his wrath. They will be tormented with burning sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. And the smoke of their torment will rise for ever and ever. There will be no rest day or night for those who worship the beast and its image, or for anyone who receives the mark of its name." "And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. they will be tormented day and night for ever and ever." I want to say a few things about these passages. If taken strictly literally, the first one does not teach that rebellious human beings will be tormented for ever and ever. It teaches not that "their torment" but "the smoke of their torment will rise for ever and ever." There is a very real difference here. The second, however, specifically says their torment will rise forever and ever (and since I take the beast and false prophet to refer to collections of individuals I cannot simply say that the devil and demons will suffer forever while humans will not). There are, however, two other important exegetical factors that we need to keep in mind. First, the phrase translated "for ever and ever" can be literally translated "for ages upon ages," which would refer to an indefinite but not necessarily unending period of time. (For other instances where similar phrases do not literally mean forever, see the more literal translations of Gen 49.26; Exod 40.15; Num 25.13.) Second, and this is the most important factor, these texts allude to Isaiah 34.9-10, which describes the fate of Edom: "Edom's streams will be turned into pitch, her dust into burning sulfur; her land will become blazing pitch! It will not be quenched night or day; its smoke will rise forever. From generation to generation it will lie desolate; no one will ever pass through it again." I trust that the parallels are clear enough, but their significance may need to be made explicit. Strictly speaking, it is simply not true that the smoke of Edom's fate will rise forever, or that no one will ever pass through that land again. I know people who have been there. It seems that this type of language is used in reference to a temporally limited situation of actual destruction (in the sense of "annihilation"). The strong language communicates the import of the events in question. This leads me to affirm the same interpretive possibilities (if not probabilities) for the text in Revelation. It was actually this observation (which I did not make on my own, by the way), that has pushed me to come out of the theological closet and affirm that if pushed into a corner, I am an "annihilationist." (I've actually never stated that before, so you are the first to hear it. Be gentle! :) ).

3. Immortality is not an inherent quality of humanity. The idea of "immortality of the soul" is Platonic, not Scriptural. The Bible clearly teaches that only God is immortal (1 Tim 6.16) and that he shares his immortality ("gift of life") with those he chooses. And Scripture consistently teaches that God gives this gift of life to those who line up with his will (see Jn 3.15-16; 10.28; 17.2; Rom 2.7; 6.23; 1 Cor 15.53-54; Ga; 6/8; 1 Jn 5.11). Much thinking and speaking about hell assumes that the human "soul" will live forever without questioning the philosophical basis of this claim. As a result, we usually don't even think to entertain the possibility of extinction for those who have been cut off from God's presence. Almost everyone in the discussion agrees that hell is, more than anything else, a place where God is not. But, according to biblical logic, if God is not there, life is not there either. I put this argument third because it isn't as watertight or as central as the others. For example, one could argue that God can keep people alive to punish them if God wants to. But it still needs to be mentioned.

4. Another argument that I think needs to be kept in mind has to do with the character of God. Is it consistent with God's character as revealed in Scripture to torture people in hell forever? Please know that I am not simply saying that we should affirm his "love" over against his "justice." Both of these words need to be carefully defined if they are to speak faithfully of the God revealed in Scripture. Let me just briefly mention a few points in this regard. First, in Scripture God's justice refers not simply (or even primarily, or perhaps at all) to his inability not to punish sin in a way that matches sin's severity. (This whole line of thinking doesn't seemScriptural to me, though I know it does to many.) God's justice is more about his faithfulness to what he has promised. For Paul this has much to do with the role of Israel and God's faithfulness to her. For all of them this has to do with God's promises to make the world come out right. This does mean that evil will be "judged" (in the popular sense) and eliminated from God's new creation. It means more than that, but it definitely doesn't mean less. Second, while God certainly punishes people for their sin, his punishment always eventually gives way to mercy. See Psalm 103.8-14 for a poeticized affirmation of this consistent biblical teaching. I think God will ultimately display his mercy (as well as his wrath) by allowing those who refuse to accept his love to no longer exist. (Keep in mind the severity of no longer existing, by the way; it is the ultimate stamp of "failure" upon our lives.)

There are other arguments for this position, and of course many against it, but I'll rest the case for now and let you guys mull over all of this. I am by no means eternally convinced of this position, but for now I can honestly say I think it best represents what we can know about these things given what has been revealed to us.

...

So . . . tell me honestly, what do you think? Am I crazy, heretical, right, wrong, stupid, confusing? Are there passages or points I'm not taking into account? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I want to end our week by drawing your attention to a powerful passage in one of Paul’s letters. Take a look at 2 Corinthians 1.3-7:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

I have a tough question: What’s the main idea in this paragraph? Okay, so it’s not that tough. Paul is pretty clearly concerned with comfort. More specifically, Paul wants to encourage those who are suffering by reminding them that God can use even their pain to further his mission in the world.

The words “encourage” or “strengthen” are actually better translations of the Greek word used here than “comfort.” Comfort sounds soft and cuddly, protected and serene. The word Paul uses is parakaleo. It has to parts: kaleo, which means “to call,” and para, which means “beside.” When you put the two together, the word means something like “to call to my side.”

Picture a man or woman who is exhausted. Not just tired, but weary. It hasn’t just been one of those days, but one of those months or years or lifetimes, or at least that’s how it feels. Nothing is going right, and they don’t know if one more step is even possible. Now picture an old grandfather coming up to our friend, placing his arm around her shoulder, drawing her to his side, and saying, “You may be done for on your own. But you’re not on your own. We are together, and together we can do this. Together we can move forward. Together we can endure.”

That’s what I think of when I hear this word parakaleo. And when I think of that grandfather, I see you. Every one of you.

I see you being the comforter, the encourager, the strengthener, the one who puts your arm around the hurting, the lonely, the depressed, the poor, the oppressed, the anxious, the lost, the scared, the confused, and the weary.

“But wait!” you might be saying. “I can’t be the comforter. I am the one hurting or lonely or depressed or poor or oppressed; I am the anxious, the lost, the scared, the confused, and the weary.”

That’s the point. You are wounded. You have suffered, and perhaps are suffering right now. We are all wounded. We have all suffered. If we did not share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, neither would our comfort abound through Christ. If we were not wounded, we would not be able to heal.

As it is – as we are – we are healers. We are wounded healers.

The good news is not just that we can be free, but that we can participate in the liberation of others. The good news is not just what God has done for us and in us, but what God wants to do through us.

We’ve spent most of our time during this series focusing on ourselves. That’s not always bad, if we do it in the right way. In fact, we’re going to continue talking about how to get our own lives in order (albeit in community with others). But there comes a time to ask how each of us can focus on one another; there comes a time to attend to those who are not receiving attention.

So let me ask you a few simple questions: Who in your life is hurting? Who in your life is lonely or depressed? Who in your world is poor or oppressed? Who in your life is scared? Who in your life is weary? These questions are not hypothetical. Picture someone in your life who is not doing well. Think of someone in our world who needs our help.

Now imagine ways we can comfort and strengthen these people. Imagine something you can do to bring healing and peace to a wounded and broken world. And as you imagine, and as you go and do these things, remember your woundedness. Remember that you are not the world’s Savior, but merely a fellow journeyer; remember that you’ll always be a wounded healer.

People don’t want to know you’re perfect. People want to see that you’re beaten and bruised and yet you’re still standing and moving forward. People want to believe there is a way through captivity and bondage to freedom and liberation. People want to know that even though they are wounded, they too can not only be healed but heal.

As we continue to talk about freedom from our past, from our pain, from our addictions, remember how it’s all supposed to end: with each of us, wounded but nevertheless walking on, participating in God’s great mission to heal the world.

Now go! Go and perform some act of kindness, of compassion, of healing. Offer your time and your energy and your story. Find someone in need and help them – talk to them, listen to them, serve them. Find someone hurting and become a healing presence in their life. Go, experience and share the liberating joy of bringing life and salvation into the world in the name of Jesus, the one who brings life and salvation to us all.

...

Let me ask you a question: Why should we be good? Why should we live one way rather than another? Why should we live the way God wants us to live? Why should we pursue the path of cross-shaped and resurrection-empowered faith, hope and love? You can tell a lot about a person or family or church by how they answer these questions.

So go ahead and give it a shot. If/when someone asks you why you try to live in a way that pleases God, what do you say?

I’d be interested to hear what some of you said. Perhaps you said, because he’s God and he said to do it. Maybe you said you simply think it’s the best way to live. Others may have said it’s just how you’ve always tried to do things. Still others may be afraid of the consequences of doing otherwise. I’m sure at least a few of us came to the realization that we really don’t know.

But for the most part I’d say that we believe we’re supposed to be good because, well, were just supposed to. We try to be good because we believe (or at least we think we believe) that being good is good. And that’s good (that we believe this). Or I think it is anyway. But I don’t know that it’s best.

Seeking to be good for goodness’ sake may be a good idea, but it’s not really very compelling, at least now when we’re faced with other options. When something more appealing or comforting or safe comes along, I don’t know that we’ll stick to the path of faith, hope and love simply because for some reason we think we’re supposed to.

Thankfully, there are other, deeper, more compelling reasons for living faithfully to Jesus. We can get at these deeper reasons by reflecting on the concept of being created in the image of God. You may recognize this phrase from one of our creation narratives.

Then God said, “Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.
So God created human beings in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
(Genesis 1.26-27)

In the ancient world, this word “image” referred to statues the king would place throughout the land in all the far corners of his empire. The king did this to remind all the people that he was in charge, that he was sovereign, that he was the one to whom they owed obedience and awe. These statues were, of course, made of stone and they were usually statues of the king himself. These stone statues were powerful symbols of his reign; they represented his majesty and power in places where he was not personally present.

So to be created in God’s image means that we are created to be representations of his majesty and might, powerful signs that he is the Creator and Sustainer of the universe. Moreover, he has given us a task, a calling: to express his rule over the entire earth, over the land and sea. Everything else we say about true humanness must flow from this reality and this calling.

Now the fact is that we as a human race have exerted power over the created world. But we have certainly not done so in a loving way. Similarly, because of our lack of hope and faith in God, we have turned on one another, and instead of cooperating together in our shared project we have tried to dominate and rule over one another.

Let me put this simply: When people look at our lives, they should see what God is like. When someone or something sees the way we treat other and the world around us, they should see the loving character of the one who made us and put us here. But we have failed miserably in this task.

I’m reminded of something in the book of Hebrews: In putting everything under human beings, God left nothing that is not subject to them. Yet at present we do not see everything subject to them (Hebrews 2.8). In other words, things are not as they should be. The world has gotten out of hand. We have lost control. Notice, however, what the author says next: But we do see Jesus. In a few other places Paul refers to Jesus as “the image of God” (2 Corinthians 4.4; Colossians 1.15). Part of what Paul is saying is that Jesus is what we were always meant to be. Where we failed, Jesus succeeded. Jesus is living proof that God is King. When you look at Jesus, you see what God is like.

When we are invited to follow the way of Jesus, we are stepping back into the stream in which we were meant to swim, the song we were meant to sing. To live a life of Jesus-style faith, hope and love is to live, as one follower put it, with the grain of the universe. It’s so much more than merely morality. It’s not about being good because being good is good (or because God will smash us if we’re not); it’s about being holy – being like Jesus – so we can show the world what God is like and what God originally intended humankind to be.

When we are tempted to step outside of God’s design, may we not just tell ourselves to do the right thing because it’s the right thing, but may we also tell ourselves to follow Jesus because by doing the right thing we step in line with who were originally intended to be. And may we remind ourselves that Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. . . . And if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” (John 8.31-32, 36)

...

My favorite author in the world came out with a new book this week, which means I am very excited and very busy. It is called Surprised by Hope, and in the book Wright helps us rethink virtually all of our assumptions about the afterlife, heaven, hell, the resurrection, and how it all impacts us today. I have just started and I already love it.

I also came across this interview on his webpage, and since I shared a much less important interview a while back, I thought I'd share this one today. Here it is.

...

Christians Wrong About Heaven, Says Bishop
By David Van Biema

N.T. "Tom" Wright is one of the most formidable figures in the world of Christian thought. As Bishop of Durham, he is the fourth most senior cleric in the Church of England and a major player in the strife-riven global Anglican Communion; as a much-read theologian and Biblical scholar he has taught at Cambridge and is a hero to conservative Christians worldwide for his 2003 book The Resurrection of the Son of God, which argued forcefully for a literal interpretation of that event.

It therefore comes as a something of a shock that Wright doesn't believe in heaven — at least, not in the way that millions of Christians understand the term. In his new book, Surprised by Hope (HarperOne), Wright quotes a children's book by California first lady Maria Shriver called What's Heaven, which describes it as "a beautiful place where you can sit on soft clouds and talk... If you're good throughout your life, then you get to go [there]... When your life is finished here on earth, God sends angels down to take you heaven to be with him." That, says Wright is a good example of "what not to say." The Biblical truth, he continues, "is very, very different."

Wright, 58, talked by phone with TIME's David Van Biema.

TIME: At one point you call the common view of heaven a "distortion and serious diminution of Christian hope."

Wright: It really is. I've often heard people say, "I'm going to heaven soon, and I won't need this stupid body there, thank goodness.' That's a very damaging distortion, all the more so for being unintentional.

TIME: How so? It seems like a typical sentiment.

Wright: There are several important respects in which it's unsupported by the New Testament. First, the timing. In the Bible we are told that you die, and enter an intermediate state. St. Paul is very clear that Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead already, but that nobody else has yet. Secondly, our physical state. The New Testament says that when Christ does return, the dead will experience a whole new life: not just our soul, but our bodies. And finally, the location. At no point do the resurrection narratives in the four Gospels say, "Jesus has been raised, therefore we are all going to heaven." It says that Christ is coming here, to join together the heavens and the Earth in an act of new creation.
( Read the rest of the interview )

If true freedom is not about liberty to do what we want but rather service to the right Lord, what does this authentic freedom actually look like? How would we describe a life – a person – that is free?

Today, I’m going to give it my best shot. And I’m once again going to follow the lead of the Apostle Paul (though I’m afraid Bob Dylan will have to sit this one out). Very early in Paul’s ministry, when he began writing letters to young churches instructing them on how to live a life of freedom, he developed a simple formula for describing the lives of Jesus-followers. Let’s see if you notice the pattern:

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13.13)

But by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor circumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. (Galatians 5.5-6)

We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and the love you have for all his people – the faith and love that spring from the hope stored up for you in heaven. (Colossians 1.4-5)

We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Thessalonians 1.3)

But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. (1 Thessalonians 5.8).

Do you see it? According to Paul, a life that pleases God consists of faith, hope, and love. Elsewhere (in this week’s memory verse), Paul specifically especially ties the third one to freedom: You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge your sinful nature; rather, serve one another humbly in love.

Today I want to briefly examine faith, hope and love. But I want to explore them in reverse because I think that’s the way they best make sense.

So let’s start with love. We actually talked about love last week when we discussed Jesus’ death on the cross as a pattern for our lives. Here is what we concluded: “If we want to know how to live to please God, if we wonder what God’s will is for our lives, we need look no further than Jesus laying down his life for others. Apparently, love means sacrificing yourself for someone else, placing their needs above your own, dying so they might live.” We then looked at specific ways the Scriptures call us to love everyone – our neighbors, people in need, people who are poor and oppressed, people we lead, people who betray our trust, even our enemies and people who attack us.

To live a life of love, and therefore freedom, is to be the type of persons who can and will sacrifice our lives for all of these people. As Paul once put it, we “look not to our own interests but each of us to the interests of others” (Philippians 2.4).

Um, can I just state the obvious? That’s really hard!!! It is easy to love those who love us and do good to us. It’s not too much harder to love people who are in need, as long as they don’t pester us. It’s a little more demanding to love people who are indifferent to us. And it’s downright difficult (and dangerous!) to love those who attack us. If we’re going to love like this, we’re going to need some help.

And that’s where hope comes in. It’s helpful to begin by thinking about it in the extreme. The ultimate expression of love is to give our lives so that someone else might live. The only way this is possible – as an expression of love, not self-centered heroism or psychologically unhealthy “giving in” – is if we know that something else makes this sacrifice worth it. More specifically, we can give our lives away if we believe that we will get them back again.

This is where the resurrection comes in. Our hope is based in the resurrection, the belief that God will one day raise us from the dead and give us new bodies for new life on a new earth (not disembodied souls floating on the clouds! See 1 Corinthians 15 & Revelation 21). Because we believe that God is faithful and will do this for us as he did for Jesus, living Jesus’ way now makes sense. By raising Jesus from the dead, God was saying, among other things, that Jesus’ life of sacrificial love really is the truly human way to live. Our love, which looks ridiculous to the world, is anchored firmly in our hope.

But how do we know that our hope is real? Well, for starters there are good historical reasons for believing that the early Christians’ reports that God raised Jesus from the dead are credible. First, they weren’t expecting this to happen (which is why it surprised them). Second, the details of the resurrection reports are notoriously jumbled. While some people claim this is proof that the documents are corrupt, it actually points to the opposite! If they made up the story, you can bet they’d get together and nail down the details. When children get into trouble and lie about it, your first clue is that they each tell the story in exactly the same way. The less confusion, the more collusion, as they say. And the opposite is true as well: the more confusion, the less collusion. Like painters whose portraits of the same person are all different but nevertheless recognizably similar, the Gospel writers’ resurrection reports have the realistic ring of historical truth about them. Third, if they were making up the stories, they’d be better stories! In their world, you certainly wouldn’t have had women be the first to see Jesus. (Women weren’t even considered credible witnesses in a court of law!) And you’d make the actual resurrection a bit more glamorous – we hear nothing of Jesus’ new body glowing like the sun, or anything like that.

But even with all this “evidence,” it’s a hard pill to swallow. You want me to live a life of unconditionally sacrificial love just because God raised a guy from the dead (even if it did happen)?!?! I just don’t know if I can do it.

And that’s where faith comes in. Faith is not believing the absolutely in-credible; it’s committing ourselves to what may be credible but still seems ridiculous. Faith is trusting – not just once but every moment of every day – that our hope is real, that it is anchored in a trustworthy God who always keeps his promises. There is no certainty in this life, whether you follow Uncle Sam, Muhammad, Nietzsche, the Almighty Dollar, Jesus, or whomever else. There’s no way around it; each of us will make a decision to trust that some way of life is best. Either we keep our money for ourselves or we use it to help those in need. Either we maintain powerful control of the people around us or we serve their needs before our own. Either we attack back those who attack us or we bless and pray for they who hate us.

What I am asking you to consider is that Jesus’ way is worth the risk. I am suggesting that a life of true freedom is found when we commit ourselves to Jesus’ pattern of love, hope and faith.

...

Today we begin week three of The Source - Finding Freedom. (Click here to see weeks one and two.) In these meditations we explore this life of freedom available to us - what is it, what does it look like, why is it good, etc.
...

It’s not every day that I begin The Source by quoting Bob Dylan, but today it seems appropriate, so let me quote a few lines from his song Gotta Serve Somebody. It’s a simple song in which the chorus is broken up by poetically parallel verses. Here are some of the verses:

You might be a rock 'n' roll addict prancing on the stage,
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage,
You may be a business man or some high degree thief,
They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief

You may be a construction worker working on a home,
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome,
You might own guns and you might even own tanks,
You might be somebody's landlord, you might even own banks

Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-sized bed

And here is the chorus, which he sings in between each verse:

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody.

Dylan’s point is simple: No matter what you do, what you drink, what you wear, how much money you make, what others think of you – no matter who you are – you gotta serve somebody.

Regardless of what you think of Dylan (or the song), what he says is important and true. All of us serve somebody or something. All of us have given ourselves to some code or ideal or principle, and in turn that rule or idea quietly and often imperceptibly governs what we think, say, and do. This someone or something guides how we spend our time and money, what we think is important and worth working for, how we respond to those who love or hate us, and so forth.

This actually flies in the face of what our dominant culture tells us. We are told, in effect, that if we “follow our heart” and trust our intuitions, we will indeed be free. We are led to believe that if we allow no one else to tell us what to do and be, we will be liberated from external control and we’ll experience true freedom.

We don’t have time to unpack the root of these assumptions, but it isn’t hard to recognize their problematic character. If true freedom is getting to do whatever you want to do, why do we know so many selfish people who’s lives are a complete mess? If all it takes to create a just and peaceful society is to provide everyone this kind of liberty from external compulsion, why do we still see so much violence, hatred, racism, sexism, corporate greed, and injustice in our society?

If we are honest and paying close enough attention, we must admit that something is wrong with our concept of freedom. Something is wrong with the ideal of getting to do whatever we think is right and good. The value of Dylan’s song is that it suggests there might be something more to this idea of freedom.

In fact, what Dylan says reminds me of something the Apostle Paul wrote in his letter to the church at Rome:

Don't you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness? (Romans 6.16)

Here Paul fleshes out his earlier claim that “all alike are under sin” (Romans 3.9). It’s another way of putting what Jesus said elsewhere: Anyone who sins is a slave to sin. (John 8.34)

For Paul, obedience is not a choice we make – we may choose who to obey, but we don’t choose to obey or not. Obeying something is simply part of being human, something we can’t avoid. Authentic freedom, therefore, is not a matter of doing what we want, but of listening the right counsel. Real freedom means serving and obeying the right master, the right Lord.

I know all this sounds authoritarian and goes against the grain in our world, but think about it like this: Picture someone telling you that you should listen to no one and do what you want, what you think in your heart is right. And you do it. Are you not listening to them and doing what they’re telling you to do? Consider also the fact that many of those telling us this are trying to sell us something, whether a product or experience or whatever. They know they can influence what we want, so if they can convince us to seek whatever we think we want, we’ll seek what they’re offering. We’ll buy what they’re selling. No one is as free from others’ influence as they think – especially those who aren’t aware of who they’re listening to.

In other words, no matter who you are you gotta serve somebody.

Both Dylan and Paul simplify the decision we must make into two competing options. Using Paul’s words, we can either serve sin and self which results in death, or we can serve righteousness and holiness which results in life (see Romans 6.20-23). We can do things our way, which means we will unknowingly be tossed back and forth by whatever our culture or sub-culture shapes us to want and be. Or we can do things God’s way.

There are all sorts of things we want that we think we need or deserve. There are all sorts of lifestyles we think make sense. “There is a path” that seems right to all of us (see Proverbs 14.12). To complicate matters, we’re very good at telling ourselves that God wants for us what we want for ourselves. So I’m certainly not saying it’s an easy choice. But I am saying – with the Apostle Paul and Bob Dylan – that each of must choose.

...