I’ve switched to yet another new theme. It’s called Daleri Dark and it is another rip-off port to Bloo of a WordPress theme. This one is by the talented Andreas Viklund.
This theme similar to a few others done recently in that it will only work under the full production 1.00 release of Bloo, which is in pre-release here and on a few other blogs.
This one will hit the Themes blog soon.
This is the third installment of the My Friend Jenny series, in which I highlight some of the music of my talented friend, Jenny.
The mp3 this time around is called Cleansing the Temple Complex. It is short, prophetic, stark, and appropriate for our time, don’t you think?
You can download it here: Cleansing the Temple Complex.mp3
The lyrics are pretty straightforward, and I really like the use of the “turntables” concept in this context.
Cleansing The Temple Complex
Gone clubbing at the church of God
’til Jesus came in and threw over your turntables
Selling out at the church of God
’til Jesus came in and broke all your record players
Past Jenny postings: Worry Minds and Invisible Type.
From David Hayes’ absolutely spot-on article, Word vs. Deed:
If we consider it our calling only to preach the gospel, we may address people’s spiritual needs very well, but we miss an opportunity to substantiate the truth of our words through our actions. We miss an opportunity to glorify God by displaying another beautiful aspect of his mercy. I believe Christians need to become more comfortable with the fact that God is glorified through our merciful actions, even if they never lead to the salvation of the person we’re ministering to. If you faithfully care for a suffering friend or family member over a period of years, yet that person dies without Christ, you have not wasted your time. You have greatly glorified God through perseverant, merciful action! This may seem like a startling statement at first, but Scripture does not command us to serve the poor merely as a pretense for evangelism. We care for the poor as a means of reflecting the merciful character of God. As we faithfully do that, his name is glorified. The eternal results are his domain.
We must never confuse these two great mandates the Lord has placed upon us as his people. We can’t accomplish one by doing the other, and the absence or minimization of either represents a failure to carry out the mission God has called us to. Yet even as we distinguish between evangelism and mercy ministry, we recognize that the gospel is the common thread that binds the two together. We desire to take advantage of every opportunity to proclaim the gospel with our lips even as we are demonstrating its authenticity with our deeds. The gospel is central to everything we do. It is the hub from which and to which all ministry flows. Our hope is always to proclaim the gospel, even when our primary ministry activity is oriented toward physical mercy rather than evangelism.
The church is not in an “either/or” situation when it comes to preaching salvation and extending physical mercy. It is in a “both/and” situation.
I’m not very faithful at either one, unfortunately.
[Hat tip: Provocations & Pantings]
Paul, called by the will of God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus, and our brother Sosthenes,
To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
– 1 Corinthians 1:1-3
I love the beginning of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, for several reasons. But I think this is the main reason:
. . . called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours . . .
If you’ve read this letter you know that the church at Corinth was messed up (the Internet Monk wrote something about this recently that’s worth reading). Corinth was a church that exasperated Paul, and that exasperation is reflected in 1 Corinthians. Paul was frustrated and angry with the Corinthian Christians. And he told them so.
But notice what Paul didn’t do. Paul didn’t disown them. He didn’t pretend that they weren’t family. Paul did not split the Bride into “us” versus “them”.
. . . together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours . . .
It doesn’t mean that Paul didn’t correct them. He did. Paul struck the right balance, spoke hard truth in love, and yet affirmed the Corinthians right at the beginning of his letter and confirmed to them that, no matter what, they were family.
If you are my Christian brother or sister, you are family. We might disagree on important but non-essential matters of theology. We might have wildly different ideas about what church is all about. We might disagree on music. To you maybe I’m a dork. To me maybe you’re uncool. Maybe I embarrass you. Maybe you embarrass me.
But if Jesus has redeemed you, you’re my brother or my sister. And there’s nothing that’s going to change that.
And because of that, as God is my helper, I will not poke fun at you, or act like I don’t know you, or try to wish you away. You are not a “them” to me. We are an “us”.
Like Paul, I may have need to talk to you about important matters of the faith. You might need correction. But, as God is my helper, may I always approach that task with courage and humility, being ready for needed correction in my own life, for the Word is a two edged sword.
My Christian brother or sister, I love you. We’re family.
. . . called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours . . .
There is a famous quotation of Martin Luther in which he compares humanity to a drunken man who has fallen off of a horse on the left-hand side, and then proceeds to get back on the horse and fall off on the right-hand side.
I don’t have the attribution for that quote, but it’s such a wise observation. I’ve noticed this scary human tendency often in movements within the church. For instance, if we think the church is emphasizing social justice at the expense of saving souls, we react to create a church that cares only for saving souls at the expense of social justice. If we think that church has gotten too traditional, formal and stuffy, we leap over the horse and create a church environment totally divorced from church history and where reverence often takes a back seat to relevance.
Arguments tend to be phrased as “either/or” when they really are “both/and”. And I don’t know why we’re this way (note: I’m this way too).
I’ve begun to post a series of my thoughts on “balance”. Now balance is a word that portrays, to some, a sense of the safe, of the non-committal, of the middle-road. I would counter that balance is, in actuality, exciting, dangerous and very hard work. Balance is not a bad thing: there are many times when balance is necessary and desired: when walking or running, for instance. Or when walking a tightrope. Or when riding a horse. Unfortunately, our natural tendencies have us dumping off to one side or the other.
A subject I’ve read a lot about has been the American space program, and especially the Apollo program. The Apollo command module was equipped with a stable element, called the “eight-ball”, which had a set of gimbals that allowed it to maintain a stable, unmoving attitude relative to the stars, and thus gave the spacecraft a point of reference upon which to navigate. There was only one instance in which the ship’s stable element would cease functioning. This situation was called “gimbal lock“, and it occurred when the ship yawed too far to the right or to the left; the gimbals would line up, lock into position, and you could kiss any knowledge of which way you were pointed sayonara. We as humans tend to do that, don’t we? We yaw too far to one extreme, our internal “gimbals” lock, and the next thing you know, we’re passing Pluto and wondering how on earth we got there.
Balance is important, and it is something we learn. Scripture is described in Hebrews chapter 4 as being “sharper than any double-edged sword”. I don’t want to strain a metaphor too much, but the image that has always popped in my mind upon hearing that is of a sword that cuts both ways. Scripture balances against other scripture and drives us to the truth.
Unfortunately, balance doesn’t sell books or get people to read a blog post; if you really want to swing for the fences to make your point, straw-men riding hyperbolic steeds of rhetoric are needed (and, oh my goodness, is this sentence a mess! I think I’ll keep it 🙂 I think the idea is that by over-emphasizing one’s point at the expense of the contra, perhaps one can pull people into the middle-ground. And that does work, but the things sacrificed in that approach often include clarity, charity, and peace. It’s a lot harder to elucidate a position precisely in a way that makes people want to listen, and that’s why so often pendulum-swinging over-exaggeration is utilized instead.
I long for balance. And if the horse we’re riding is the Gospel, let’s maintain our balance, ride it well and not fall off, even if everyone around us is flinging themselves off into the ditches.
(previous post on the topic of balance: Balance: Heavenly minded, earthly good)
“Don’t be so heavenly minded that you’re no earthly good”
Have you ever heard that statement before? I have. In the past, I have assumed it referred to people who thought only of the sweet by and by to the exclusion of the duties and callings of this life. But I didn’t think much more of it, and I didn’t really know anyone I’d put in that category.
Recently our pastor used that phrase in a Sunday morning message. He followed it up with a quizzical look and this statement: “I’ve never known anyone too heavenly minded”.
He has a point – particularly in this country, where we’re so inundated with the bright, sparkly things of this world and where teachings on heaven and hell in our churches are few and far between. What brings this to mind is what I’m seeing as a resurgence, writ large, of the tension between heavenly minded and earthly good in current church debates, and primarily in the emergent conversation.
Here is the point and accusation being made in that conversation: Jesus came to inaugurate his Kingdom on earth, to fix the mess we’re in, and to overcome the Roman empire with a new kind of reign based on God’s ways, so that God’s will will be done “on earth as it is in heaven”. Unfortunately, the argument goes, all we’re concerned about in modern evangelicalism is “getting people saved” so that they can go to heaven and avoid hell. Evangelicals care too much about heaven, to the exclusion of this present world and all its troubles, for which they do very little.
While I think that representation is a bit of a caricature, I can see that there’s some truth in it. But the corrective being suggested seems, to me at least, to just be another fling off the other side of the horse. The books coming out, for instance, on the emergent side of the aisle seem to be paying short shrift to eternity. Their message: the church is too heavenly minded. We need to start being some earthly good.
And, in this way at least, they’re right: there are clear Biblical commands toward earthly goodness, and we are all as believers compelled by Christ’s love to love our neighbors, to do good to those around us, to meet the earthly needs of the least of these. And the reason we are to be this way is very simple: to glorify our Father in heaven.
I find myself tangled in yet another false dichotomy when it is suggested (or inferred) that earthly goodness and heavenly mindedness cannot coexist, and it makes me wonder if theologies built upon a foundation of our efforts to solve the world’s problems are theologies that, deep down, don’t really believe in eternity. Because if eternity is true, this life really is a vapor, a wisp, one blade of grass in a vast field.
If we are to be earthly good (and I believe we are), we are to be that way for God’s glory, and because, to paraphrase a recent, popular movie, what we do today echoes in eternity.
If eternity is true (and I believe it is), how much does the weight of it overwhelm day to day concerns? And how much does the need for each person on earth to heed the call of Jesus to repent and believe overwhelm all other issues in this life? These questions become rhetorical when you consider that in a snap of the fingers, we’ll be gone, and eternity will be what remains.
I believe that balance is a very important aspect of our faith, and I would like to see more of a balance, in my life, in the teachings of the church, and in the current in-family debates in Christendom, between heavenly mindedness and earthly goodness. May we never lose site of the enormity of eternity, and the glorious and frightening prospect that it has for us and for our neighbor. In the light of this, may we serve our neighbor, in Jesus’ name, as we would want to be served, doing God’s will on earth as it is done in heaven, for the glory of the Father.
I’ll leave you with a C.S. Lewis quote that sums up what I’m trying to say exceptionally well:
It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbor. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbor’s glory should be laid on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.
– C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
It’s 8:37pm and I’m going to bed.
The teens are off at a church retreat, Blake is bedded down (but keeping one eye on the Chicago/Green Bay game). Jill is conked, it appears, in the chair.
I have two choices: there are a number of things I need to do. I’m behind on a web-project I’ve been working on. I need to do some laundry. I’m behind on some reading. So I could probably stay up and get some things done. I’d be good until at least midnight.
But I’m going to bed. I’m learning that the idea of Sabbath is a wonderful idea (of course it’s a wonderful idea; God came up with it!). I have neglected Sabbath so much in my life. And I’m addled and sleep-deprived because of it.
Tomorrow will be a busy day. But it will be a busy day after a good, long night of sleep.
I’m going to bed.
And I’m taking tomorrow off from work, too.
Tonight I cleared out some of the blogs on my Bloogroll that have either not updated in a long time (a year or so) or that are just not there anymore.
If your blog isn’t in my bloogroll anymore and you think it should be, let me know.
Scot McKnight, in his excellent blog Jesus Creed, is currently working on a series that will review Brian McLaren’s new book, Everything Must Change. As always, I am sure Scot will be fair, thoughtful, and thorough in this series, and I must say that his comments threads are some of the most civil in the blogosphere.
I haven’t read the book, and don’t know much about it beyond Dr. McKnight’s introductory remarks and this review by Tim Challies. But I did enjoy this comment, left by Robin Rhea in the thread on Dr. McKnight’s post. It’s a refreshing answer (albeit anecdotal) to some false dichotomies floating around out there.
I grew up Catholic, came to love Christ when I was 20, and have been in evangelical circles for the past 8 years, completely “conservative” and almost entirely Southern Baptist and Calvinist. The churches that I have been a part of have been heavily involved in medical, educational, and gospel outreaches to Uganda, Columbia, Cuba, The Dominican Republic, and Sudan, have operated numerous ministries to the homeless, medically needy, hungry, have cried with women considering abortion and offered them services regardless of the outcome of their choice, ministered to the hispanic community in a part of the country where they are not very popular, have numerous outreaches alternative lifestyle groups, I think so far I have covered about half of it. I submit that by far the most “popular” speaker in evangelical circles is probably John Piper who has made social justice a continued theme of his ministry for the past 20 years, especially racial justice and racial reconciliation. Others, who are theologically ultra-conservative include Tim Keller in Ney York, Mark Driscoll in Seattle, and Scotty Smith in Nashville, all of whom have tremendous “social justice” concerns …with all of that said, I get the feeling that MacLaren’s accusations that those of us that care deeply about theology and doctrine somehow have a flat theology that does not lead to social justice issues is false. Maybe it is true in the circles he encounters, but even a cursory look at church histroy would show that those that care about theology and doctrine the most tend to do a great deal to alleviate the sufferings of their fellow human beings. You could check out Jonathan Edwards, David Brainerd, Adoniram Judson, William Carey, Jim Elliot, etc. for confirmation. It could be that the “progressive” wing of Christianity is much more compassionate, but I have a hard time believing it.