Sermon on the Law
Hey!
So last week (Oct. 2nd) I had the privilege of preaching at FCC. I preached on the Law, which was inspired by a conversation I had with my good friend Danny Marriott, who recently graduated from Westminster Seminary. It was a tricky one to write, but I felt like the Holy Spirit spoke for me, so I was very grateful. Check it out and let me know what you think!
(Note: The volume of the recording is very low, so you'll have to crank your speakers)
Why "evangelical" and "conservative" are not synonyms
When I graduated from grad school, my granddad bought me a subscription to The Christian Century. It's been great because The Century is a well-written and thoughtful magazine, and it's a needed perspective that often differs from my own. In the most recent edition, they wrote about Tim Pawlenty, and his pastor Leith Anderson. Anderson is the pastor of Wooddale Church, and the head of the National Association of Evangelicals. They noted that Anderson came on in the wake of the Ted Haggard scandal, and that he had instilled higher standards for reports and projects, and that he had ruffled some feathers by urging evangelicals to take action on the environment and on immigration.
This got me thinking about how I've recently heard the term "liberal" used to describe people or institions that would never strike me as such (e.g. the Southern Baptist Convention). It reminded me that the terms "conservative" and "evangelical" are not necessarily synonymous. For example, many evangelicals may have conservative views on inerrancy, but politically liberal views on climate change. Other evangelicals are for laws that allow gay marriage. I even know evangelicals who would vote for "Swedish style socialism"! The question that often follows is whether views that fit into the more "liberal" political sphere negate the speaker's evangelical convictions.
This brings two issues into focus. The first is the necessity of keeping the doors of evangelicalism open. Evangelicals should be united by their high view of scripture, and by their desire to ground all theological views in Biblical truths. The uncomfortable reality is that such a wide standard allows for a sometimes-daunting variety of opinions. The fact is that within the world of evangelicalism there will be great differences of opinion. Strict unity in a great deal of areas comes at the cost of shutting huge numbers of devout, biblical people. I don't think that level of agreement is worth the cost. Obviously, the meaning of the term evangelical has challenges in its future - but I would advocate open minds on issues that aren't necessarily biblical in nature. Some views that may be somewhat "liberal" don't need to be grounds for expulsion from the evangelical camp.
The second issue is that I believe distinguishing between the terms "evangelical" and "conservative" is a healthy excercise, because it allows evangelicals to re-affirm their core belief (the infallability and total reliability of God's word), and also enter important social conversations (e.g. immigration, war, budgets, healthcare, etc.) with open minds, because we know we're not dealing with our essentials. Evangelicals will have enough challenges retaining coherence without throwing in climate change as a litmus-test.
In the end, both "conservative" and "evangelical" are flawed words. Both suffer from the lack of a set of identifying criteria, and both require a lot of dialogue. For me, what it comes down to is that I can't maintain strict allegiance to both, so I would advocate focusing on the meaning of our identity as evangelicals - rather than focusing on maintaining our credibility as conservatives.
Please give me your thoughts!
Thoughts on Prayer
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)
I believe in the power of prayer. By it's very nature it's a scandalous, incomprehensible act. Not only do we get to approach the God of the universe (very incredible), and not only do we get to interject our hopes and desires into his will (just plain shocking), but we're encouraged to do so boldly (a scandal if ever there was one). Needless to say, undertaking an act as counterintuitive as prayer comes with as many questions as answers, so I thought I'd write about a couple aspects of prayer that to me seem misunderstood.
The first is the question of what prayer actually can accomplish. I feel like people make two main mistakes when it comes to prayer. The first is to say that God knows everything, has planned everything, and does not change - therefore prayer does not have any actual power. Others go the opposite direction, saying that in order for our prayers to have effect God must have gaps in his plan or his knowledge. When it comes to issues like this, I feel that it's preferable to accept tension rather than accept a conclusion that clearly doesn't stand up when viewed the the entirety of Scripture. When it comes to the extent of God's knowledge, I am of the opinion that it is complete, and that God's plans are firm, as evidenced by passages such as Job 12:13, Psalm 147:4-5, and Isaiah 46:10. On the other hand, the Pentateuch is filled with examples of God changing his stated direction after intercessory prayer or repentance (another example is found in the book of Jonah). For me, it seems clear that we are told that prayer is powerful and has the ability to change our situations, but that should be extended to bring God's knowledge into question. It's a tension that must remain.
That being said, I feel the greater danger when it comes to prayer is to take Jesus' admonition to approach the throne boldly and to use it to turn prayer into something with a predictable outcome. I see this a lot when people talk about needing "more faith" to get results. Of course, we should use prayer to see our faith grow, but no amount of faith make us the master of our prayer's destinies. To me, that language shows that we've forgotten that, no matter how bold our prayers are, we are still talking to God, who is the only being with perfect knowledge. To me, radical faith isn't prayer that expects a particular answer, it's prayers that ask for something and still trust in God's ability to control every outcome in our lives. What can make faith difficult is when we have to accept that we have boldly requested something from God, and he has heard and chosen not to respond the way that we had hoped. Of course, Romans 8:28 reminds us that God will work all the aspects of our lives out for the good of those who love him. What is difficult about beseeching God is realizing that what God can see is good often flies in the opposite direction of what we want. That's where faith comes into play, because it allows us to pray boldly and confidently, while believing that God can respond in a way we would not choose, but that his will is always good.
In the end, prayer is a conversation with the ultimate other. When we pray, we tread in places that we don't understand, and we converse with a God we can't comprehend (Isaiah 55:8-9). That's why I get nervous when I hear people assert that they know how God will answer a prayer. We can ask boldy, but just because we are called to enter into the world of God's action, it doesn't mean we get to understand God's machinations or his outcomes. In the end, I believe that prayer is an expression of faith in God's character, and that is where we are called to place our faith.
Dislocated Exegesis
This is actually a topic I’ve been thinking about writing on for a couple of months, since I read “Dislocated Exegesis” by Lauren Winner in the March edition of The Christian Century. Winner defines Dislocated Exegesis as “ the practice of reading scripture in unexpected places, in places that might unsettle the reading you were likely to bring to the text”. This struck me as a novel concept, until I mentioned it to a co-worker, and his response was “Oh, so it’s eisegesis”. I didn’t have a quick response, so I’ve been kind of chewing on it for the last couple months, and I’ve come up with a two-part response.
A) This form of Biblical reading can certainly lead to conclusions that are the result of eisegesis rather than exegesis. It’s certainly a practice that is best utilized carefully, and any form of grand reveal should probably be discussed with Biblically sound friends who are comfortable calling out bad theology.
B) Meh.
Part B of my response probably needs to be seen rather than read. It’s a sound accompanied by a slight shrug. I’ll start by talking about Part A of my initial response. Clearly, dislocated exegesis is a process that comes with some peril. It’s not hard to see how people can bring their own ideas or biases to their scripture readings. In this case, the exegesis isn’t really displaced; it’s just a method that allows readers to apply their ethos to new passages. That being said, I’m still intrigued with the notion of dislocated exegesis, and here’s why:
- Whether we are reading passages in a familiar setting, or in a unfamiliar one, we still are prone to eisegesis. I don’t think this practice really increases the danger of eisegesis that much.
- If the Bible is living and active (Hebrews 4:12), and if God speaks to us through it then displaced exegesis would seem to fit. It’s not perfect, but I think it’s better to seek opportunities for God to speak through his word, then dismiss it entirely because this idea comes with a downside.
- This isn’t supposed to overthrow accepted Biblical theology. It’s not about God changing his word’s meaning. It’s about seeing the same truth in a new context. If dislocated exegesis leads us to anti-biblical conclusions, then it fails to be exegesis in the first place.
- Finally, dislocated exegesis isn’t the birthplace of systematic theology or confessions. It’s intended to be a part of private devotions and reflection. That’s not to say that private devotions aren’t any less important, but I don’t think that dislocated exegesis poses any great threat so long as it’s not the sole source of Biblical study or spiritual formation.
Anyway, the idea described by Winner has really intrigued me, but I haven’t attempted this practice yet. I will however, so I’m sure I’ll write about what it’s like. Until then, feel free to call me if I slip into eisegesis.
Why heaven matters
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?" (John 11:25-26)
On Wednesday morning, my Grandpa passed away. He had been battling serious illnesses for nearly 20 years, and although we are sad to lose him, there really is genuine relief that he is finally free from suffering and in the presence of God. My Grandpa lived a hard life, and was far from perfect, and thinking about his passing has gotten me recently thinking about the doctrine of heaven.
For me, it's sometimes easy to treat heaven the way I treat hell. I believe in its existence, but I get irritated when people make them the cornerstone of our faith. Sometimes it's tempting for me to just ignore both topics, and focus on faithful living. Over the last two days however, I've been thinking about why heaven is important, and for me it comes down to this. God created our world and was pleased, and the fall not only brought sin and death into the world, it also ruined our relationship with our Creator. In this life, we can have a renewed relationship with God through Jesus' death and resurrection, but we still never get to see a world as God willed it to be. Christians are still sick, they still die young or live to become bitter, often are persecuted, and still see evil people prosper while they do not. Not only is the world around us unfair, but we never get the chance to see our spiritual regeneration completed.
That's where heaven comes in, it is the completion of God's restorative work, and it is the first time any of us will be able to see creation as God desires it to be. It will be the first time we get to see our love of God made complete, and see his power clearly demonstrated. I understand the desire to focus on earth more than heaven, but a gospel stripped of the promise of heaven is a gospel stripped of its overwhelming promise and hope.
Anyway, I don't have anything to add to the doctine of Heaven, but I've merely been reminded of its ability to comfort the bereaved, and remind us that God's presence not only gives us a relationship now, but also the promise of regeneration to come. That is good news.
The prophetic voice
I've recently been listening to Derek Webb's Stockholm Syndrome album, and musically I love it. It's got some of the catchiest tunes on it that I've ever heard (seriously, listen to "Cobra Con" twice and then try to get it out of your head). Lyrically however, it's a bit more complicated for me. The album's central theme is Webb's notion that the church has become so used to serving our political and cultural masters, that we've become like hostages who have taken on our captor's cause. To put it mildly, Webb is angry. So angry, in fact, that I've thought that a better title to the album may have been "Rage" or something like that. The bass lines are catchy, though. Now, I'm way too late to really analyze this album's content theologically, as that's already been done many times over. What stuck out to me is the way that Webb seems to put himself forward. By braving the controversy, and going so far as to battle his own record label, he has set himself up as a sort of prophet, calling out God's displeasure to the comfortable masses. What has struck me about Stockholm Syndrome is the entire notion of being a prophet. I've been wondering what that role looks like now, and how much controversy is acceptable as part of that prophetic role.
It seems to me that what turns many people off of the prophetic voice, is that it's often dismissed as being "shock-value" driven. I'll admit, there's plenty of shock value in Stockholm Syndrome, (I bought the full album so that I could hear the very controversial "What Matters More?"). Obviously, there's a limit to how much shock is effective, but if we were to dismiss all prophetic speech that was infused with attention grabbing stunts, we would miss out on the prophecies of Ezekiel (see Ezekiel 4 and 37), Hosea (see Hosea 1) and Jeremiah (Jeremiah 27). To me, prophets are forced to act in dramatic ways in order to show their listeners how grave their situation really is. I think of my grandfather, a pious and thoughtful reverend, choosing to be arrested to protest the testing of nuclear weapons. That "stunt" underscored the serious nature of his objections in a way that mere words could not. When it comes to prophetic speech, I don't feel like shock value alone is enough to discount a message.
As strange as it sounds, when it comes to the railings of a prophet, what I feel works is to try and think through what the words and actions are trying to communicate. Basically, I try and match emotion with analysis, which is easier for me to type than to do. Both our words and actions communicate, and it's totally fair to judge whether the words and actions of those who would speak prophetically match up to a Biblical standard. What I'm getting at, however, is that we should accept or reject hard truths for the right reasons, rather than the convenient ones. I didn't agree with Webb's desire to scapegoat the U.S. for the church's ills, but I still found things in every song that struck me as painful, thoughtful and accurate.
I'm not trying to make prophetic language popular (by it's very nature it's confrontational, and will almost never be acceptable to many hearers), but instead to encourage you (and myself) to be willing to deeply examine the content of prophetic language. Ephesians 4:11 clearly demonstrates that God continues to utilize prophetic language to tell hard truths. We should be willing to really listen.
Introducing the Holy Spirit to Kids
And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. (John 14:16-17)
As a children’s minister, I talk about Jesus a whole lot, and God the Father just as much. It’s a lot of fun, because kids pretty much all have a concept of an all-powerful invisible God in heaven, and it’s wonderful to see them starting to grasp the concept of God being human like them. (For example, not long ago we taught about Jesus being tempted like we are and it was pretty neat to see the kids realizing that God went through the same temptations they did). However, I find myself guilty of not talking enough about the Holy Spirit. The truth is it’s really hard to explain the Holy Spirit to adults, much less to kids. Sometimes, it just seems to make more sense to stick with talking about Jesus and hope that the kids eventually learn to submit to the leading of the Holy Spirit.
Unfortunately, when I look around at the theology of the Holy Spirit in American churches, it seems like that’s not happening. It seems to me that the kids who aren’t being taught about the Holy Spirit as kids get to adulthood and still have no idea what the Holy Spirit does and why. It’s no surprise that books like The Forgotten God are so loved – it makes sense because so many of us as adults recognize that the Holy Spirit is an anathema to us. I’ve come to believe that if we want our churches to have a well-rounded theology of the Spirit, then it has to start in our children’s rooms.
So where does that start? Well first, as simple as it is, we need to talk about the Holy Spirit. There’s nothing that makes the Holy Spirit seem totally inscrutable as much as simply never talking about it. As tricky as it is to talk about the Holy Spirit to kids, it is crucially important for them to hear about Him early and often, so that they want to know more about the Holy Spirit as they grow in their ability to understand His nature. Second, when talking to children about the Holy Spirit, we need to find and give examples of how he works. For example, when we talk about reading the Bible, we should talk about how the Holy Spirit still helps us understand and grow through it. When we talk about prayer, we should explain that the Holy Spirit hears us, talks to the Father for us, and responds to us. When we talk about seeing opportunities to make a difference in the world around us, we should talk about how the Holy Spirit is the one who shows us what God wants us to do. Of course, kids will have questions, and they probably won’t fully “get it”, but it seems better to me to build a basic awareness of the Holy Spirit at an early age than to wait until later and hope that students really grasp it. By then it may be too late.
Of course, none of this makes a difference if we don’t have a relationship with the Holy Spirit. The best thing we can do in this area is actually talk about and model a relationship with God’s Spirit. All-in-all, the Holy Spirit is a daunting subject for anyone, and it’s not hard to find examples of the theology of the Holy Spirit being twisted into something unrecognizable. However, that makes it all the more important that we as children’s workers impart a good understanding of the Holy Spirit at an early age, because doing so will make a difference for entire lives. God bless all of us as we try and introduce little ones to Him.
Evangelical Churches in Cuba
This isn't theology per se, but as someone who has twice gone on 8-day mission trips to Cuba, this is very exciting!
http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/02/06/as-cuban-economy-sputters-evangelica...
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. (2 Corinthians 4:8-10)
Teaching the Trinity
Recently I was on a panel for our church's men’s bible study. This group meets one Saturday morning per month and for the next 10 months they will be going over the book “Doctrine” by Mark Driscoll. Our first study was on the doctrine of the Trinity, because everyone is ready to dive into complex doctrines at 8:00 am on a Saturday (right?)
To prepare for this panel, I spent a little while reading up on the doctrine of the Trinity in advance, which led me to two conclusions. The first is that the doctrine of the Trinity is indeed rooted in Scripture and crucial to a cohesive biblical theology. The second is that it’s really hard to explain. Fortunately, once the event began, the men at my table asked good questions and had great insights, the best of which came from the man who was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, and was able to provide great insight into that mentality. In the end, the level of engagement with such a difficult doctrine encouraged me.
The men’s bible study reminded me of the importance of tackling difficult subjects like the Trinity to the best of our ability. It seems to me that oftentimes we shirk such subjects because we assume our congregations won’t be edified by topics that seem heady. I can certainly understand the temptation to stick with the simpler themes that everyone can grasp. Unfortunately, doing so fails to protect our flocks from dangerous distortions of biblical truth, and prevents us from having a fully formed understanding of the incarnation. Not to mention, the majority of our congregations want to have a full understanding of their beliefs. This men’s breakfast reminded me that people are willing to grapple with complex topics, so long as they can see their value. The doctrine of the Trinity has immense value – which can be easily pointed out – and therefore deserves our earnest attention.
When it comes to the Trinity, as well as other difficult-to-grasp theology, the church’s task is to faithfully teach and explain, while taking pains to demonstrate their importance. Our congregations are not interested in spending their time contemplating theological minutiae, but complex doctrine and minutiae are not synonymous. Last Saturday reminded me that we should not shy away from any parts of God’s revelation. Instead we should strive to make the Trinity (and other challenging doctrines) understandable, relevant and accessible to our churches.
For wisdom will enter your heart,
and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. (Proverbs 2:10)
Something Timeless
Yesterday Morning I drove back from our annual pastor’s retreat, and on the way I discussed with another pastor the cycles that seem to come and go in ministry. We talked about the “Seeker Sensitive” wave that came out of places like Willow Creek, and the current wave, which comes from people like Francis Chan, and points people back to higher levels of sacrifice and dedication. Of course, we also talked about the “emergent/emerging/postmodern” churches and figures such as Brian McLaren, Mark Driscoll, etc.
As we were having this discussion, it struck me that each of these waves has at its root the quest for something “timeless”. Seeker sensitive churches point back to Jesus eating with tax collectors and prostitutes and say that they are merely trying to get back to Jesus’ model of reaching people where they are at. Francis Chan points to the dedication of the early church and suggest we need that again. Emergent types point to our location in culture, and suggest that engaging our surroundings is part of being “in the world but not of it”. The thing is, they are all right. Each of these approaches is an attempt to craft a biblical response to a felt need. Unfortunately, these approaches (in their pure form) can be difficult to square with other ones. Sometimes it feels like we need to just pick an approach and run with it as far as we can. But is that the best way?
I would suggest that the answer is no. For me, what has been enlightening has been to look at each approach to find what its root cause is, and to try and apply it. Seeker sensitive churches are a reminder that church can be very intimidating, and that we need to have our arms opened wide to people who are messy (like us). The emergent line of thought, for all its flaws, reminds me that churches need to strike a balance between connecting with our world, and prophetically standing against sin. Francis Chan is currently opening my eyes to my need to truly give control to the Holy Spirit.
I guess the point I’ve come to is feeling that the moment I throw myself into any “wave”, I’ve opened myself up to strengths as well as glaring weaknesses. Of course, no matter what my theology I’ll always have glaring weaknesses. However, I choose to see many of these “waves” in theological waters as opportunities to be reminded of something timeless.
Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. (Ephesians 4:14)
All the best,
Collie




