Making What Peace is Left For Us

In his  short story, Pray Without Ceasing, Wendell Berry (Fidelity, Five Stories, New York: Pantheon Books, 1992) tells about Thad Coulter, who loses his hard-earned farm after mortgaging the property and giving the money to his son, who promptly spends it all. Thad becomes enraged - at his son, at the bank, and at himself for being so gullible and so stupid. He has lost what he worked a lifetime for. The more he thinks about it the angrier he gets, until finally, in a drunken frenzy, he goes to the home of his best friend, Ben Feltner, and begins a tirade that seems to never end. Finally Ben escorts him out of the house, promising to talk with him when he sobers up.

But this dismissal just infuriates Thad further. He feels that his only friend has become his enemy, siding with all those others. He goes home, gets his pistol, returns to town, and seeing Ben on the street, murders him. A short time later he turns himself in to the sheriff, confesses his crime, and is locked up. When news reaches Ben's family of the killing, they're distraught. But they aren't without friends.

A crowd gathers in front of their porch. Several among it express their anger at what has  happened. Ben's wife Nancy and their son Mat listen.

"We know it was a thing done out of meanness. We don't think we can stand for it. ... It's only up to you to say the word, and we'll ride down there tonight and put justice beyond question. We have a rope."

"Mat's voice, when it came, was steady:

"'No, gentlemen. I appreciate it. We all do.. But I ask you not to do it.'  Nancy, under whose feet the earth was not shaking, if it ever had, stepped up beside her son and took his arm. She said to the crowd, "I know you are my husband's friends. I thank you. I, too, must ask you not to do as you propose. I have asked you. Mat has asked you. If Ben could, he would ask you. Let us make what peace is left for us to make.'

"' If  you want to, ' Mat said, "come and be with us. We have food, and you are all welcome.'" (pp. 56-57)

Some stay. A corner is turned. But where does one find the grace and wisdom to "make what peace is left for us to make"?

Maybe its a learning. From observation, from past experience, we have the knowledge that, as Miroslav Volf says, "retaliation born of fury clearly is morally wrong. ... revenge abandons the principle of 'measure for measure' and, acting out of injured pride and untamed fear, gives itself to punitive excess. That's why revenge is morally wrong. In its zeal to punish, it overindulgently takes from the offender more than is due." (Free of Charge. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005, p. 159)

Or maybe it's a teaching taken seriously. "Beloved, never avenge yourselves." Instead, "Bless those who persecute you. If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink." (Romans 12)

Or maybe it is simply grace. A recalling of how God is said to act, is said to reach out and embrace those who don't expect it, but who sense the peace that accompanies it. And acting in a way that Volf says in another place:  "We do here as Jesus did before."

Pastor Mike

Sacred Space

   Alistair Eberst writes, "St. Cuthbert's Island adjoining the shore of Lindisfarne is a wonderful parable of quiet, for it is always in sight of the main  island, and yet for hours and hours at a time it is completely cut off. It seems designed especially to experience a day of solitude, long enough to limit your freedom, but not as inaccessible as the life of the true hermit. Here Cuthbert, and most certainly Aidan before him, escaped from the pressures of community and of missions and turned their face towards God."1
   Traveling to a sacred place might be easy for some, but I'm on a budget. I haven't found any local prayer huts or protected islands to escape to regularly. When we were newly married and had an infant daughter I determined to get away for a night and spend the time in prayer and quiet, so I went to the church camp an hour away with my tent and sleeping bag. I built a fire, and something in the smoke triggered my allergies. I got so sick I decided to go back home where I could spend the night in prayer and quiet without choking to death. My wife, whom I'd abandoned for the evening, found that quite humorous.
   My suspicion is that there are sacred spaces that are much closer to home than a church camp or St. Cuthbert's Island, and much more accessible. Any story scripture tells about  the ministry of Jesus will do. I find that I can go to one as a place apart, enter the story, and speak and be heard.
When I read about a dinner being given in Jesus' honor (John 12:1ff) I simply take my place at the table. Martha is serving, Lazarus is there recovering from death, and Mary is anointing Jesus' feet with expensive perfume, wiping them with her hair.
   Judas is there too, carping about wasting the perfume instead of selling it as a fundraiser for the poor, and it's obvious he's taking a swipe at Mary for being so wasteful. Jesus reprimands him: "Leave her alone. It was intended," he says, "that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial." John says that meanwhile a large crowd of Jews began to gather and plot Jesus' death.
   It seems like a lot of things are going on during this "simple dinner of honor." My first inclination is to take sides with one of the groups present. Which is most appealing? Martha serving food, Mary pouring perfume, Judas complaining, Jesus defending, Pharisees plotting? I know the story, so I know how it plays out. But what if I didn't?
   When my imagination comes into play I see Judas' response to Jesus' "Leave her alone ... It was intended." There is a quick look of defiance on Judas' face. It's not the reaction of a disciple/learner. One would expect appreciation for the instruction. But maybe Jesus does sound a bit harsh, more so than if it were simple instruction. The fact that Jesus knows what is "intended" - surely by God - infers that Judas doesn't have the insight Jesus does. Or perhaps Jesus can read him all too well.
   So now, imagining again, I feel a tension in the air. Martha's service is interrupted, as is Mary's attention to Jesus. The disciples look first at Judas, then back at Jesus, and it becomes quiet. And I enter into the sacred space of choosing.

Pastor Mike


1 Eberst, Alistair. "St Cuthbert's Island." Celtic Daily Prayer. 2002: HarperOne, p. 453.

Kids

I'm intrigued.  News reports say that Walmart is planning to spend 3 billion dollars over the next 10 years to strengthen the US economy. The agenda includes supporting new technologies, underwriting new businesses - a long list of investments. It's a sizeable goal, and obviously Walmart is doing quite well financially. As business people the company leaders expect the investment to pay off in the long run. New jobs mean more money back into the economy, which means more jobs.

With an estimated 50,000 children coming into the country from places like Guatemala,  the government is balking at spending 3 billion dollars to assist them. Actually the proposal is to spend 1.5 billion to assist them, with the remainder going to beef up the border patrol to keep additional kids and adults out. That remainder seems to be a bone thrown to the anti-immigration crowd which wants to block the border completely.

I can't do the math very well. But it would seem that $1.5 billion is enough to provide and underwrite food, clothing, and medical care for 50,000 kids over 10 years. That would be 150,000,000 a year, or 3,000 a year per child for 10 years. Put the first year of expenses to work, invest the rest, and the principle grows exponentially. Give  a financial incentive to cities around the country willing to set up staffed residence homes.

Maybe the idea isn't at all feasible. But don't try to convince me Walmart can come up with the money and the government can't. If these kids aren't on our conscience now, they will be in the future.

You Are Always With Me

I'm confused, once again, by my morning devotional scripture. This isn't unusual. In fact if I'm not confused by the scripture passage for the day I'm confused by lots of other things. But this one verse raises a question for me. It comes in Luke's account (15:11-31) of Jesus' teaching about the lost son. In this parable the younger of two brothers pesters his father for his share of the estate while the father is still alive, and the father "divided his property between them." The boy fritters it all away and then comes crawling home, broke and hungry, whereupon the father throws a big party.

The older son has his nose out of joint: "Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!"

Certainly the point of the parable is that God's love is forgiving and inclusive, regardless of the offense. The teaching comes on the heals of the parables of the lost sheep and  the lost coin; in both cases there is heavenly rejoicing because a repentant sinner has been saved. It's a concern to some that the confession of the younger son doesn't flow so much from a sense of sorrow for what he's done wrong as from the fact he's starving to death and there is food to spare back at home. And it's also a matter of how we interpret parables that determines how much meaning is packed into them.

So as Vernon Doerksen states, "It is well, at this point, to distinguish  between parable, allegory, simile, and metaphor.  A metaphor equates one object or person with the other. For  instance, John's Gospel contains no parables, in the usual sense, but it  gives many metaphors of our Lord, such as, "I am the good shepherd”  (10:11) and "I am the true vine" (15:1). 

"A simile does not equate the two, but it does draw out a comparison. ... The simile and parable are very close together in a parable such as, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman  took…” (Matt. 13:33).

"One further form is the allegory. An allegory is a story where  every point is important. The classical illustration is Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. A Biblical example is allegory in Galatians (4:22-31).... Thus in an allegory every detail of  the story has its counter-part; whereas, in a parable there is usually but  one central truth." (1)

So back to the malcontented brothers in Luke 15. The one central truth is, again, God forgives and embraces, regardless. Even whole-hearted repentance isn't required. But there is a strange (to me) follow-on to the story. The father says to the older brother, "My son, you are with me always, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

And my question is, did Jesus see himself in the parable he told? I  know I tend to teach and preach in the context of my own learnings and challenges; the questions I struggle with wiggle their way into my lessons and sermons., Was the awareness of God's insistence on forgiveness part of Jesus' own growth in wisdom and stature and in favor with God? Was it a revelation of maturity, not unlike the times of temptation in the wilderness or the retreats in prayer from the crowds? How human was our Lord?

(1)  Doerksen, Vernon D. The Interpretation of the Parables. Grace Theological Journal 11.2 (1970) 3-20   Copyright © 1970 by Grace Theological Seminary. 

The Presence of God

   Since I’m neither disciplined enough nor creative enough to come up with daily devotions on my own, I depend on a prayer book or two that include readings and suggested scriptures. That way I only have to deal with setting aside the time to read them and pray, which is enough of a challenge. Sometimes the books themselves can be confusing, like when they say the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost was between June 12 and 18, but that isn’t true this year. I think that was the Second Sunday.

   Anyway, the Psalm of Petition for the week included this:

      Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,
      Be gracious to me and answer me!
  “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!”
      Your face, Lord, do I seek.
      Do not hide your face from me.  –Ps 27
   It takes a conviction I don’t always have to be sure that God is ever-present. I’m in good company, I guess; the Psalmist often felt abandoned by God (“How long must your servant wait?”), but would then do an about-face: (“I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears”).
   Brother Lawrence, in Practicing the Presence of God, makes the conviction sound doable. Writing about himself in the third person he says, “You must know, his continual care has been, for above forty years past that he has spent in religion, to be always with GOD; and to do nothing, say nothing, and think nothing which may displease Him; and this without any other view than purely for the love of Him, and because He deserves infinitely more.
   “He is now so accustomed to that Divine presence, that he receives from it continual succors upon all occasions. For about thirty years, his soul has been filled with joys so continual, and sometimes so great, that he is forced to use means to moderate them, and to hinder their appearing outwardly.”
   Brother Lawrence’s approach is fairly conditional: as long as one’s attention is focused on God and one lives righteously, God will be present. Deuteronomy gives us a little more latitude: Be strong and of good courage …  for it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you.”
   It takes a bit of Biblical chutzpah to claim the verse for our own. Moses was speaking to Israel just before he died, and the tribes were about to cross the Jordan into the promised land. Can we claim the instructions as our own? Why not - we claim Jesus' words to the disciples as ours all the time.
   So does one need to be constantly pleasing to God for him to show up (Brother Lawrence), or is God already present, and we need to find strength and courage (Deut 31:6) in the Lord?
   I prefer the latter; I’m no more disciplined in my focus on God than I am on setting aside time for devotions and prayer. Besides, it’s uplifting to know I’m never alone, never abandoned or forsaken by God.
   And if someone asks me who’s there, I can always say, “Us.”

 

 

 

 

 

Condemnation

I know. John 8:1-11 wasn't in the "earliest manuscripts," but it was part of my devotional readings for today, so read it I did. The passage about the woman caught in adultery still brought to mind the same questions a lot of people express : "Where was the guy, if she was caught in the act?" "What was Jesus writing in the dirt, anyway?" And finally the conclusion most come to after reading it: Jesus forgave this woman; and they add her to the list of all the other people Jesus forgave. But a closer reading says the forgiveness was implicit. "Go and sin no more" suggests  she wasn't exactly clothed in righteousness when she was caught out, but Jesus didn't explicitly forgive her. The real emphasis is on the word "condemnation." Jesus says, "Who is left to condemn you? ... Neither do I."

Paul says, "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." We usually think of condemnation, in its religious context, as the accusation of sin, backed up by some kind of witness. In this case it had more immediate consequences. The condemnation and the testimony of witnesses against her would result in her being stoned to death. It wasn't the forgiveness per se that was at the heart of this conversation, it was the fact that Jesus saved her from death. And not an easy one, if her accusers postponed aiming for her head. In reality she owed Jesus, who shamed the teachers of the law and the Pharisees into backing  off, her life.

It isn't much of a leap to conclude that this became one more mark against Jesus when it came time to have him tried. Pharisees and teachers of the law who could recall the words of Moses in great detail would have no trouble remembering the times Jesus had pestered them until they had let other sinners off the hook. Let them off, but not forgotten the humiliation. Those memories helped seal Jesus' eventual crucifixion and death.

The New Testament writers brought it full circle. Jesus' lack of condemnation and his defense of them frees them from the sentence of death. It's not a bad way to begin the day.
Pastor Mike

Truckin' to Oregon

It's been a busy week. Driving to Oregon with my son David was a highlight. I rented a truck in Colorado Springs and friends helped load it with furnishings from our home to take to the townhouse in McMinnville. David flew to Colorado to help me make the 1500 mile drive. I attended a seminar on worship some years ago, and the presenter asked each of us to complete the sentence, "Writing a sermon is like ..." I wrote, "Driving across Wyoming." I should have added, "In a 28' truck." Both can feel endless. But David made the trip much more enjoyable. We regularly took turns driving and did a lot of catching up, not only through Wyoming but Utah, Nevada, and finally Oregon.

Now it's time to unpack, pray for Margie and Steve to arrive safely from Colorado Springs, and begin the work of Interim Pastor at First Baptist Church of McMinnville. The staff and leadership team have been most helpful as we prepare together for this congregation to make the transition from one pastor to the next. I attribute this willingness to the work of God's Spirit - equipping us to move forward, and shaping hearts, minds, skills, and the cohesiveness of community - as we celebrate Pentecost together at the start of a new ministry.  

Christian Practices - Forgiveness

What do you need to do to receive God's forgiveness? What do others need to do to receive yours?

In the years after 586 BC, the populace of Jerusalem finds itself in trouble. The Temple has been destroyed and much of the population has been carried into captivity in Babylon. The dilemma it faces is this. The Temple, the dwelling of God, is no more. With no Temple there is no opportunity for sacrifice, and thus no way to find reconciliation with God. In the face of their hopelessness and despair  Ezekiel, priest turned prophet, challenges the former approach to reassurance. By steering away from retelling the old stories of God's mighty works, he turns instead to relating the true nature of the Judeans. They have taken God for granted, worshiping idols and playing fast and loose with God's mercy. This offense to God has resulted in their exile.

The path to restoration, according to Ezekiel, lies in awareness of sin, repentance, and the formation of communities (which will become the synagogues that replace the Temple) that hold dear the word of the Lord. The Lord gives Ezekiel  a scroll and instructs him to eat the words so they become part of him, and then to proclaim the words to the House of Israel in captivity. And as a counterpoint to the words of judgment and condemnation there is hope:    

"This is what the Sovereign Lord  says: 'I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have been scattered, and I will give you back the land of Israel again.'

 "They will return to it and remove all its vile images and detestable idols.  I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh." (Ezek 11:17-19)

It really is another hint we have that God's interest lies in spiritual rather than legalistic renewal. What Israel needed – what we need – is the heart of God within us. What Israel needed – what we need – is God's forgiveness. And that’s the promise: “I will bring Judah and Israel back from captivity and will rebuild them as they were before.  I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed against me and will forgive all their sins of rebellion against me.  Then this city will bring me renown, joy, praise and honor before all nations on earth that hear of all the good things I do for it; and they will be in awe and will tremble at the abundant prosperity and peace I provide for it.“ (Jer 33:7-9)

And so Jesus comes granting forgiveness to the paralytic (Mark 2:1 ff) and instructs the disciples to forgive repeatedly (Matt 18:21ff). Why is that so challenging? Peter asks, “How often must I forgive my brother?” (Not “how often am I allowed to forgive him”!) Jesus basically responds by saying, "There is no limit," and later prays that God will forgive the crowd that crucifies him (Luke 23:34). And as with the paralytic and others, he does so before they ask, and before they repent.

God  insists that we forgive and love unconditionally. At times it sounds conditional. 

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.  And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins." (Mark 11:24-25)

But in what sense? That God is some sort of accountant, keeping records of our actions and dealing out reward or punishment in turn?

More correctly, we simply cannot understand the forgiveness of God until we have pursued it ourselves. We are encouraged to experience how hard it is to forgive the ones who insult us, steal our material goods, threaten or take the lives of our loved ones, by forgiving them and loving them before they love us. We may not be successful, but we're to try, with God's help, repeatedly. From the counter-intuitive perspective of the Gospel it is forgiveness that leads to repentance, and not the other way around. In other words, we are called to respond to those around us with the heart of God. Then we begin to grasp the depth of God's sacrificial love for us so we can make it our own.

Christian Practices - Hospitality

Martin Copenhaver argues that no Christian practice is more necessary today than hospitality.[1] He points out that in Biblical times it was common practice to offer hospitality, because travel in the ancient east was so dangerous. You were morally obligated to supply food and safe travel to a stranger – or an enemy – who came to your door asking for help or shelter. Marjorie Thompson says, “All sorts of people had to travel at times through ‘enemy territory,’ which meant that hospitality to strangers was a matter of mutual survival.”[2] Or as Copenhaver puts it, “Remember that the next time you may be the stranger in need of hospitality. This time you may be the host, but next time you may be the guest.  … It is a reminder that you never know which role you may be required to play next.”

“To understand why I would say that,” says Copenhaver, “I think we need only consider some of the elements of hospitality. For one, we are hospitable when we welcome someone to a safe place. To be sure, we do not live under the same threats as ancient near east travelers. Nevertheless, there are still so few safe places in our own time.

Safety means freedom – as President Roosevelt put it, freedom from want, from fear, freedom of worship, of speech. Churches can offer that kind of freedom. My youth group in high school was a safe place, away from competition, being belittled, freeing all in our group to explore who we were for one another and for God. A critical moment for us came when we asked our youth minister if we could have communion when the group next met – in a private home. As far as he knew the group had never been permitted to do that before, but he knew of no reason why we couldn’t. So we did. It was a most intimate, sacred moment.

Copenhaver points out that some individuals are themselves a kind of place where you can feel safe enough to let down your guard and be yourself. Their hearts are like sanctuaries. He says Henri Nouwen put it this way: “Hospitality means primarily the creation of a free space... The paradox of hospitality is that it wants to create emptiness, not a fearful emptiness, but a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free, free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances.”

For Copenhaver, hospitality, welcoming the stranger, also means accepting differences. He recalls Will Rogers being remembered for saying, “There are no strangers, just friends I haven’t met yet.” But there are some strangers we would not choose as friends. Perhaps they are strange. But hospitality insists that they be welcomed in and they are not asked to change.

This can be a most difficult task for church people. We operate conditionally in the world, and it carries over into the community of faith. Our inclination is to welcome the stranger, but to do so with our hidden agendas. We invite them in on the condition that within a reasonable amount of time they (take  a shower) (accept Christ) (learn English) (be baptized). We are willing to accept them as they are for a while, but eventually they need to come around. True hospitality makes no such demands.

Copenhaver finally defines generosity as a mark of hospitality. “ I don’t mean the kind of generosity that leads us to share a little bit of what we have with others. Rather, true hospitality requires that we begin to loosen the grip of those distinctions between what is mine and what is yours.” He relates the story in Genesis:

In Copenhaver’s words, Abraham sees three men, three strangers approaching his tent. He doesn’t even wait for them to arrive. Instead, he runs out to meet them and says, “My lords, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and a morsel of bread—just a morsel—that you may refresh yourselves, for I am your servant.” And then, once Abraham is on the other side of the tent door, he says to Sarah, “Quick, get three big sacks of flour and make cakes.” He takes a calf—the one he was saving for a grand occasion—and gives it to his servant to be prepared. Then Abraham takes milk and makes cheese. All of that without a pantry chef. When he is done, he lays the meal before his guests. (Mind you, this is before he knows who these guests are.) And Abraham stands by while the guests eat their fill of that “little morsel” he had promised them.

Copenhaver: “For the most part, we are not prepared to recognize the extent to which hospitality requires generosity. We are people who say in a thousand ways that good fences make good neighbors. What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours. But the hospitable spirit says, What is mine is yours. The hospitable spirit holds possessions with open hands. Understood in this way, hospitality is not a trivial thing, but the quality on which the whole of Christian ethics rests.” In Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, the thief Jean Valjean is granted refuge in a mountain church, but awakens in the night to steal the church’s silver communion settings and run away. Dragged back by the police, he is taken to the priest, who says that the silver wasn’t stolen, but was a gift. And to Valjean: “Here. You forgot the candlesticks.”  

“The Hasidic masters tell the story of a rabbi who disappeared every Sabbath Eve to commune with God in the forest -- or so his congregation thought. Then one Sabbath night they sent one of their cantors to follow the rabbi and observe the holy encounter. Deeper and deeper into the woods the rabbi went until he came to the small cottage of an old Gentile woman, sick to death and crippled into a painful posture. Once there, the rabbi cooked for her and carried her firewood and swept her floor. When the chores were finished, he returned immediately to his little house next to the synagogue. Back in the village, the people demanded of the one they'd sent to follow him, "Did our rabbi go up to heaven as we thought?" "Oh, no," the cantor answered after a thoughtful pause, "our rabbi went much, much higher than that."”[3]  Hospitality is generous unconditional welcome – and generous service.

---

[1] Copenhaver, Marvin B. “Practicing Our Faith – Entertain Angels.” Wellesley Congregational Church, March, 1999. Many thanks to Marvin for his attention to the Christian Practices, especially this sermon on hospitality. It and many other resources can be found on the website, http://www.practicingourfaith.org .

[2] Ibid

[3] Joan Chittister, from "There Is a Season," excerpted from Spiritual Literacy, Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life, p. 343, in Norfleet, Agnes W. “Practicing Hospitality” North Decatur Presbyterian Church Decatur, Georgia.

Christian Practices - Consumerism

 
Christian Practices are built on the notion that God encourages us to live out our lives in certain ways. Consumerism focuses on how we deal with stuff (material possessions) in ways that deepen our relationship with God, other people, and the whole created world. Christian practices can help us figure out the difference between good stuff and bad stuff and let go of stuff we don’t need. We're told to get jobs that will be fulfilling - monetarily fulfilling, socially fulfilling, stuff fulfilling.  You can't be whole without a lot of money, cars, getting all the new gadgets you can, at least one recreational vehicle, a TV in every room, and this list goes on.   A lot of us grew up thinking we needed to own certain things to be whole people. 

George Carlin says that for many the meaning of life is stuff. Carlin says, “A house is just a place with a lid on it to put your stuff,  while you go out and get more stuff. Sometimes you have to go get a bigger house so you can get even more stuff.”  He talks about going on vacation to visit other people and there is no place for your stuff  because their stuff is piled everywhere. If you get too much stuff you have to put some of it in storage. There’s a whole industry dedicated to piling up our stuff. When you go on vacation you have to bring some of your stuff with you. Not all of it. Just the stuff you need. Two bags, a carry-on and the stuff in your pockets. So even though you’re a long way from home you’re ok, because you still have some of your stuff.

So what is the deal?  What is this obsession over materials?  And how does being Christian fit in with it all?  How can we be a Christian in a society that insists that money is everything, social status is everything, and having everything we want is a normal feeling?  How do we balance career, family, goals, and being a Christian? What does the church say about stuff and money?

Think about how we use our money and stuff.  Do we hoard it?  Are we frivolously spending what we earn?  Are we willing to help those in need- whoever they are? And what about the Bible?  What does it have to say about money?  Jesus talks about money a lot, and in many different ways.  For example, we are told that a widow gives all that she has while others only give of some (Mark 12:41-44); a rich man is to give all that he has (Matthew 19:16-30, Mark 10:17-31, Luke 18:18-30); it is hard for a rich person to get into heaven (Mark 10:24-25, Luke 21:1-4); and that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil (1 Timothy 6:10). 

Jesus tells this parable in Matthew 25:14-27:

14 "Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his property to them. 15 To one he gave five talents of money, to another two talents, and to another one talent, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey. 16 The man who had received the five talents went at once and put his money to work and gained five more. 17 So also, the one with the two talents gained two more. 18 But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money.

19 "After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. 20 The man who had received the five talents brought the other five. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with five talents. See, I have gained five more.' 21 "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' 22 "The man with the two talents also came. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.' 23 "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'

24 "Then the man who had received the one talent came. 'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. 25 So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.' 26 "His master replied, 'You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? 27 Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.

How would you summarize this teaching? In our culture, how do our possessions define us? How does Jesus define his servants?  We might be defined by the kind of car we drive, the clothes we wear, the house we live in. Jesus defines his servants on the basis of their willingness to risk for the benefit of their master.

Paul says to Timothy (1 Tim 6:17-19)

17 Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. 18 Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. 19 In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.

Paul is affirming than an attitude of faith leads to a lifestyle of kindness, generosity, and sharing. What stands in the way of that lifestyle? What are the “realities” that cause us to hold back our resources for our own benefit?

Consumerism is about choices. We look for ways to be Christians in the world we live in, at home, in the work place, as we walk down the street, while we grocery shop.  In fact, the very stuff we have and the money we earn can be and is a part of how we can be and are Christians in the world.  And just because we do not have money or stuff to give to others, we always have ourselves to give. 

We use our gifts to help those in need, be it through our money, our stuff, or even our bare hands.  As we live and work in the world, we can be mindful of what we have been given and who has given these gifts to us.  And the best way to use these gifts is to share with those around us. We can share the stuff that we have, and the money we have earned, in a way that will serve God and serve other people in this world.  That is what God has given us:  the talents we bring to this world to use in our relationships, not only with God, but also with everyone we meet.  Ask yourself, how do I use my stuff, my money, my talents?  How can I use them to help out my fellow human being-no matter their background? Who is my neighbor?  How can I help those in need? 

Christian Practices - Sabbath

Lent is a time to take a broad view of our faith and the ways we practice it. Focusing on Christian Practices allows us to consider not just our heritage as believers, but also the manner in which we live out our lives in Christ. Craig Dykstra writes, "Christian practices are not activities we do to make something spiritual happen in our lives. Nor are they duties we undertake to be obedient to God. Rather, they are patterns of communal action that create openings in our lives where the grace, mercy, and presence of God may be made known to us. They are places where the power of God is experienced. In the end, these are not ultimately our practices but forms of participation in the practice of God."[i]

Giving attention to the Sabbath is a place to begin. Dorothy Bass explains, “Sabbath keeping is not about taking a day off but about being recalled to our knowledge of and gratitude for God's activity in creating the world, giving liberty to captives, and overcoming the powers of death.”[ii] In Judaism, Sabbath comes from the Hebrew shabbat, which means primarily to cease or desist. The Hebrews were instructed to cease work on the Sabbath – see Lev. 23:3 – in order to honor the covenant God. The key to experiencing the Sabbath is in recognizing the rhythm of once every seven days. There is relief in knowing that there is one day in every seven on which we can cease our working.

The message of Scripture is that our value lies not in what we produce or how much we have, but in the fact we are loved by God. Isaiah reminds us,” I have summoned you by name; you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.”  (Isa 43:1-4)

A second meaning  of the Hebrew verb shabbat is “to rest.” A day of complete physical rest gives us extra strength for the tasks of the other six days. Many times Jesus insisted on time apart from his disciples and the crowds. It gave him opportunity for prayer and time with God. To give ourselves a day’s break from emotional and intellectual problems enables us to come back to them with fresh perspectives, creative insights, and renewed spirits.

Practicing Sabbath allows us to stop worrying about accumulating more and to embrace the values of the Kingdom of God. The grace of God offers stability for our lives; the word of God provides authority; the fellowship of the church offers intimacy. These supports help us find a sense of order, direction and hope in a chaotic world. What would it take for you to practice Sabbath for a day, a half-day, or even two hours a week?

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[i] Dykstra, Craig  Practicingourfaith.org

[ii] Bass, Dorothy C  Ibid

Strangers

Like many of you, I’ve kept tabs on the budget discussions taking place in Washington, and I experienced a mixture of frustration and disbelief as the process dragged on. How is it that NFL football players and team owners who have only their own best interests at heart can get a unanimous agreement on contracts, but our representatives, who in theory have the best interests of all citizens at heart, can’t agree on the time of day?

Part of the difficulty for me is I have very little knowledge of economics, especially at the national and global levels. So when seemingly pivotal statements are made about potential consequences of raising the debt limit or cutting the national deficit, I don’t know who to believe. “Raising the debt limit is crucial.” Yes,  it is. If we don’t, the world economy will collapse. No, it isn’t. We need to quit borrowing money. “The national budget is just like your household budget.” You’re right. We can’t spend more than we make. You’re wrong. National and family economics differ greatly. They can’t be treated the same. “We have to cut the size of government. We’re spending money we don’t have.” True. All these entitlement and education programs are unnecessary, and we can’t afford them. False. Government services are essential, and we need to prioritize, not lay waste to all of them. The money is there if everyone pays a fair share.  Like the kid says in the commercial when he’s asked, “Where do babies come from?” he replies, “It’s complicated.”

Recently we studied 1 Peter in the Fellowship Class at church. The lesson had to do with how believers are to conduct themselves in the middle of a culture that is non-Christian. From Peter’s perspective the followers of Jesus are “strangers in the world” who are “scattered” (1 Peter 1:1). They are different from the people around them because God, by grace, has given them “a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1:3). How are we supposed to conduct ourselves in the world? Peter says we are to model ourselves after the Risen Lord, living “good lives among the pagans” (2:12).

In light of Peter’s teaching, two things come to mind with regard to the current political crisis (and others that will undoubtedly follow). Because we’re still “in the world,” we participate to a greater or lesser degree in governmental processes and the discussions around them.  And those discussions today, for the most part, lack civility. Listening  to political diatribe and news/talk show rhetoric, one can hear people on each side twisting the facts and then referring to those on the opposite side as radicals, crazy, communists, Nazis, idiots, and every other term that paints them as “other” instead of as “one of us.” Liberal and Conservative have become curse words. The language is meant to exclude, not embrace. The underlying premise seems to be that if all these people who disagree with me would just go away, the country would be a better place. The idea that we are “one nation under God” has gotten swept aside. Peter’s advice? Believers, in their words and actions, must model something different, something better. “Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called, so that you may inherit a blessing” (3:8-9).

The second issue is concerned with priorities. We recognize that priorities are difficult to sort out, even in the church family. Should we use our resources to put a new roof on the building, support another missionary, hire a staff person, begin an outreach program – some, or all, or none of the above? So when it comes to national priorities, it isn’t surprising that things become even more complicated. The boy in the commercial who wonders where babies come from doesn’t know what complicated is. But as Peter continues in chapter 3,

“Whoever would love life and see good days

must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech.

He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it.

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer,

but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil” (3:10-12)

When it comes to setting priorities, shouldn’t we be asking ourselves as Christians what it means to turn from evil and do good?  As a nation we aren’t without resources; it is a matter of how we use them and who contributes to the common good. Where do we wage war, and why? Do we cut off public education to those who can’t afford private schools? Do we continue to use our “defense” budget to support 3^rd world dictators who have no allegiance to us? Should our military power be employed to insure the flow of oil from the Middle East? Do we refuse food and medical care to the poor? I’m not suggesting that the answers to these questions are all easy , but it is contingent on us, as “aliens and strangers,” to struggle with what it means to “turn from evil and do good,” to “seek peace and pursue it” in the midst of an unsympathetic culture; indeed, to let ourselves be defined not by our enemies, but by scripture— as persons who are born anew into a living hope, focused not on fear, as so many politicians want us to be, but focused on the new and eternal life God has promised us through our Resurrected Savior.

In His name,

Pastor Mike

Who We Become

    In The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis’ final book in The Chronicles of Narnia, the Narnians loyal to Aslan the Lion meet the Calormene enemy on Stable Hill. Outwardly the stable is a dingy, smelly, ramshackle building that is believed to house the evil god Tash. And even though they worship him, the Calmorenes are terrified of Tash. They’re determined to throw the Narnians into the stable without entering themselves. But when the Narnian king Tirian finds himself at sword-point outside the stable door he grabs his opponent, the Calmorene king, by the belt and hauls him into the stable. Tash appears and drags Tirian’s enemy away, but Tirian is unharmed, protected by Aslan himself.
“For a moment or two Tirian did not know where he was or even who he was. Then he steadied himself, blinked, and looked around. It was not dark inside the stable, as he had expected. He was in strong light…” He found himself surrounded by seven kings and seven queens, dressed in royal clothing.  He expected to be in a twelve-by-six foot thatched stable. “In reality they stood on grass, the deep blue sky was overhead, and the air which blew gently on their faces was that of a day in early summer.”1
    The stable, appearing to be a tomb, is in fact the entryway to the eternal Narnia. And the tomb of Jesus, appearing to be a sanctuary of death, is in fact the empty place that helps prepare us for eternal life. In the tomb Jesus overcomes the grip of death, and everything changes.
When Mary sees Jesus, she mistakes him for the gardener. He is the same, but different. His appearance has changed, and he walks through locked doors. His friends don’t recognize him right away. And as Sarah Dylan Breuer points out, when we receive resurrection life, for the first time or on a deeper level, things change.
    Our relationships, our understanding of power, our vision, our heart, and our sense of what is possible change.
    Jesus, raised from death, now calls his followers sisters and brothers. We are bonded to unlikely strangers in Christian fellowship, receiving even our enemies, and use the same terms—brother and sister—to describe them.  Our understanding of power is transformed when the risen Lord continues to serve his disciples and us. He doesn’t address us with judgment, but with love and forgiveness. With our new vision we begin to see Christ in the most unlikely places – in a child’s eyes, an enemy’s heart, a suffering friend, and in opportunities to be peacemakers in a broken, unjust world.
With Christ’s resurrection comes a change of heart. Forgiveness becomes possible in the most trying settings. Compassion and sensitivity are lived out unexpectedly. We experience grace. And what is possible changes. In God’s economy Egypt’s slaves became a new nation, and Christ’s disciples became a church. “What seemed to be certain death became a call to new life, as the scattered Hebrew slaves became a people, God's people. In Judea, some looked at Jesus' cross and saw death; some looked at the empty tomb and anticipated death for themselves, as Roman law decreed death to grave robbers. But what looks like death is an opening for new life.”2
Easter proclaims not just the resurrection of Jesus, but of all who believe. We are transformed  to new life, and as Breuer says, we “find ourselves sent forth to be known and make Jesus known in the breaking of the bread, the healing of the sick, the loving of the unlovable, the reconciliation of each of us to one another and to God in Christ.”3
    Our Easter prayer is that we be changed. Or in the words of Walter Brueggemann,

God of Exodus and Easter, God of homecoming and forgiveness,
       God of fierceness and peaceableness,
         we are finally driven to your miracles.
This day hear our urgency and do among us what none of us can do.
Do your Friday-Sunday act yet again and make us new.
We pray out of the shattering death and the shimmering new life of Jesus,
whose name we bear. Amen.

Pastor Mike

 

1  Lewis, C.S. The Last Battle. MacMillan, 1956, pp. 137ff.
2    Breuer, Sarah Dylan. Dylan’s Lectionary Blog.  http://www.sarahlaughed.net/lectionary/2005/03/easter_day_prin.html
3    Ibid
4    Brueggemann, Walter. “While the World says, Not Possible. Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth. Fortress Press, 2003, p. 121-122

How We Talk

I’ve been caught up in the news lately. It would be hard not to. National budget debates, tornadoes in the South, bin Laden’s death – I was just too overwhelmed to tune in to the big British wedding. But I confess that as a pastor I’m constantly trying to make Christian sense out of what goes on in the world, and trying to understand how I as a believer in Christ should put events in perspective, both for myself and for the congregation. As a faithful Baptist I don’t presume to think members of the congregation require my input, but if it’s helpful, that’s fine too.

Much of the news recently has revolved around national issues. I suppose it does in every country; were we living in Pretoria I don’t imagine Wisconsin politics or the destruction of Tuscaloosa would get much air play. But they do here, along with budget cuts, tax policies, and expense priorities. The latter issues have taken center stage since the last national election, and the size of the deficit caused one member of the congregation to express doubts about the financial viability of the country in two years, regardless of what Washington does. That may be correct; not being a financial whiz I have no idea what the implications are of going broke as a nation. Do we get repossessed, or what?

My concern for the country is partly financial, but it goes deeper than that. Because of an inability to communicate constructively with each other, we run the greater risk of civil dissolution. Many families are broke, but they remain families. Divorce is harder to recover from, and in many ways we seem headed in that direction. Even members of the Christian family, who of all people should be most suspicious of divisive communication, seem content to sever relationships by the way they converse. That isn’t the ideal. As Paul reminds us in Romans, “For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others” (Romans 12:4-5). We’re to sever ties over – nothing.

Maintaining unity demands a certain approach to the way we talk with each other. And frequently our talk doesn’t get derailed over things like the exact date of the Second Coming. It flounders on which news station we watch or who we voted for in the last election. We tend to take two approaches to those matters. One is to avoid them all together. The other is to become adamant about our political persuasion. When we do the first, we’re left with a relationship that seems nice on the surface, but we know it can never intimate and fully trusting. When we do the second we push our Christian brothers and sisters aside. Animosity trumps fellowship.

Miroslav Volf points out that exclusion comes in two basic forms. It can entail moving oneself from interdependence to sovereign independence. “The other then emerges either as an enemy that must be pushed away from the self and driven out of its space or as a nonentity – a superfluous being – that can be disregarded and abandoned.” Or it can mean treating the other as someone who is not entitled to interdependence: “The other then emerges as an inferior being who must either be assimilated by being made like the self or be subjugated to the self”[1] Our treatment of others, including or excluding, is largely accomplished by how we speak.

One way out of the dilemma is to take our conversations seriously, knowing we can talk about anything if we do so in appropriate ways. Inappropriate ways invite exclusion. Appropriate ways invite the conversation to continue in a civil and loving manner. We might ask, “Does the way I respond in a difficult conversation invite a stronger relationship or a weaker one? Does it express a desire to learn more, or to be right?” James offers this: “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires” (James 1:19-20).

Too often our models for discussion come from those who have questionable gifts: intractable opinions, the capacity to speak loudly and at length, and access to the broadcast media. And too often they hold our attention by fear-mongering, taking advantage of our anxieties and concerns about the future. Jesus invites us along a different path. It is to recognize that anxiety about the world isn’t going to go away. In the face of it we’re simply asked to respond with love and forgiveness, putting our trust and faith in God. Maybe “simply” is a misleading word. I often find it difficult not to panic in the face of health concerns, financial problems, the need for TSA to check and recheck me and my baggage before every flight … all the “what-if’s” that my fellow citizens can conjure up. Fear-mongers constantly solicit our support, and when we fail to give it, we are the ones who they subject to exclusion.

But in reality the way we respond to fear, or hatred, or the demonizing of others reflects our allegiance to the Gospel. Paul told his followers, “(My commitment to the Gospel) is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day” (2 Timothy 1:12). We come to our conversations about every subject – benign or disruptive – with a choice to make: taking stands on issues that are short-lived, or being “convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” What we say and the way we say it reveals which way we have chosen.

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[1] Volf, Miroslav. Exclusion and Embrace. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996, p. 67.

Difficult Issues in Community

We live in an age when the idea of mutual responsibility is at times freely accepted; the generous outpouring of aid to Haiti is an example. At other times it is suspect, or rejected outright. The national mood is schizoid. We are guided one moment by overwhelming sympathy and the next by fear or overpowering self-interest. Vivid pictures of collapsed homes and orphaned children maximize compassion. We are much less empathetic when we think the “undeserving poor” are taking advantage of us financially.

And so. And so we find ourselves on highly emotional ground when it comes to issues like the war in Afghanistan, taxes, gay and lesbian relationships, health care, and immigration. Discussion becomes difficult and solutions seem hard to come by. And when difficult issues arise, we have all the more reason to talk about them from a faith perspective.

A recent letter from Dr. Roy Medley, General Secretary, ABC-USA, notes that numerous Protestant church leaders, both mainline and evangelical, are deeply concerned about immigration and immigration reform and have talked together at length. He extends an invitation to American Baptists to continue the dialogue.1

Dr. Medley reminds us that in American Baptist congregations, let alone the broader Christian community, there are different perspectives on this subject. None of us can claim superior understanding of the issue or what the Gospel demands of us.

“We aren’t all of one mind on every aspect of immigration reform. We know it must consider such widespread concerns as national security, appropriate means of border control, and the impact on our economic and social welfare systems. At the same time there is broad agreement among Protestant leaders (including those represented in the National Association of Evangelicals, the National Council of Churches, Sojourners and Church World Service) that immigration reform in our country must reflect mercy and justice rooted in God’s love.” To engage in this conversation, we’re encouraged to frame the discussion intentionally and structure it carefully.

A faith framework is critical. It should be based on the scriptures in light of God’s revelation in Christ Jesus. As Dr. Medley’s letter points out, the Old Testament is replete with concern for the alien and the stranger: “The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God” (Leviticus 19:34).

Then there is the prophetic voice. Micah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

Medley writes, “In the New Testament, the greeting of Christ, “Fear not,” (Matt 10:31, Luke 12:32, John 14:27b) is a powerful antidote to the fear that so often marks conversations such as this. Likewise the story of the Good Samaritan and Jesus’ description of the final judgment are critical to our perspective:

“And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?' And the King will answer them, `Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.' (Matt 25:38-40)

Structure is also important. A discussion guide from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America points out,

“In a conversation of this kind, listening is as important as talking. Genuine listening is not a passive activity, but an active, demanding one. Listen not only for the content of what is said, but for the way it is said – such as the language used, the tone of voice, the kind and level of feeling expressed, the body language and facial expression of the person speaking … and so on. Also be attentive for what is not said. Being more conscious about this kind of deep listening will help us to hear and understand better what other people are saying.” 2

It would surprise me if each of us weren’t encouraged, in one way or another, to talk about a difficult issue – perhaps even immigration reform – during the coming weeks. I invite you to take part in such a discussion as a believer in Christ, knowing that you bring a unique, caring, Biblical perspective to the conversation, whether it be in the church or in the world.

Pastor Mike
1 Medley, Roy A. Letter Addressing Immigration and Immigration Reform. American Baptist Churches USA, May 14, 2010
2 Bloomquist, Karen L. Talking Together as Christians. Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, 1999.

What About the Girl?

Luke tells a fast-paced story in Acts 16. It involves Paul, Silas, and the narrator, Luke himself. It takes place in Philippi, inland from the northwest shore of the Aegean Sea, where the Apostle and his companions were followed “for many days” by a slave girl who kept crying out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation."

Paul finally became exasperated, cast out the “spirit of divination,” got mobbed by the city merchants, and along with Silas was tossed in jail for disrupting the peace and the local economy. The story goes on to tell about the earthquake that broke their chains, the conversion of the Philippian jailer, and the resumption of Paul’s missionary journey.

A question that lingers is, “What about the girl?” She was cured of her enslavement to a spirit of some kind, and since she no longer had the gift of divination she was probably dumped by her owners. No more profit possible. Paul seemed consumed with his larger mission. Did the girl get left in the dust?

One of the drawbacks of ministry is that some of the most marginalized people can be bypassed as we seek to do God’s greater work. Put together an impressive worship service. Accomplish a mission project.

Karen Huey, in a meditation on this passage, says that although Paul might have acted out of compassion for the girl, the text plainly says that he was "very much annoyed"; this exorcism is almost impulsive. Paul was tired of being heckled by the girl and the spirit that possessed her. He was focused on doing what he came to do, and healing slave-girls doesn't appear to have been on his agenda. [1] Did he choose the greater good at the expense of a few?

Philippi isn’t the only place this has happened. Public programs instituted for the “greater good” have often intruded on the lives of individuals. The military is infamous for its euphemisms; “collateral damage” is one that describes the supposedly unavoidable killing of civilians in the course of winning a battle. And it happens in church. We can get pretty task oriented about our mission and risk leaving some in our church family behind.

If we ask, “What about the girl?” it leads us to more questions. One is, “What about me? What am I still enslaved to in my daily life?” Ronald Cole-Turner reflects on this and asks, in the words of the repentant jailer: "What must I do to be saved from what destroys me? What must I do to be saved from my particular bondage, my oppressive addiction, emptiness, or boredom? There are countless ways to lose our way in this world or to be in bondage, just as there are many different threats from which we need to be saved." [2]

The answer begins with our willingness to pose the question in the first place. Are you willing to keep asking what it takes to be saved? Unless we ask, it’s unlikely that the freeing work of God will become available to us.

Another question is, “What do we do with our slave girls?” Or more to the point, what do we in the church do with the people who feel they are good, faithful Christians, who attend worship, serve in some capacity, but feel like something is missing.? Or with those outside the church who feel enslaved, but won’t come in?

Reggie McNeal, author of the book The Present Future, describes the first group: “The faithful, maybe silently or not so silently, wonder when their ticket is going to be punched, when they are going to experience the changed life they’ve been promised and expected to experience at church. In North America, people have been led to believe that (the) Christian life is all about church.” He says that when the church fails them, this “not only creates doubt about the church, it also leads them to all kinds of doubt about God.”

There are people like this in every congregation, ours included—who aren’t experiencing the spiritual transformation for which they hoped. As one Christian writer said, “They came to us seeking God, and we gave them church instead.” [3]

So what do we do with those who don’t see church as the answer? We reach out. Waiting for people to come in the door doesn’t work. As a friend recently reminded me, “What makes you think anybody on the outside wants to come in your church? They don’t. Get over it.”
Besides, the end goal isn’t the survival of the church building. It takes an extra step to look at our community and identify the needs that exist – for redemption, forgiveness, physical needs and spiritual wholeness. In the face of those needs we don’t offer church. We offer the good news of salvation in Christ Jesus. We don’t offer church. We offer God. One on one.

Pastor Mike

1 Huey, Karen, Weekly Seeds, May 7, 2010
2 Ibid
3 Watson, Suzanne, Sixth Sunday of Easter