TRUST, Part 1

Do you love God? I think many of you reading this blog would answer that question with a resounding "Yes!" So let me ask you a more pointed question, do you trust God? Before you answer that, here's a story.

A man was hiking in the mountains, alone. After hours of hiking, he reached the summit. Before making his way back down, he decided to take a few moments to take in the view. Thinking he could get a better view of the scenery below, the man walked right to the edge of the cliff. The closer to the edge he got, the more fragile the ground became. Then it happened! The ground crumbled beneath his feet and he fell down the cliff. It just so happens there was a tree branch jutting out from the face of the rock where he fell. In desperation, he extended his hand and grabbed hold of the branch. As he hung there reviewing his options, he began yelling, “Is anyone up there?” He was surprised to hear a voice respond, “Yes, this is God.” The man was greatly relieved, and quickly stuttered, “God, can you save me?” “Of course I can," responded God. The man, excited now, shouted out, “Great! What should I do?” The answer from above was not what he was expecting: “Let go of the branch.” After a long period of silence, the man replied faintly, “Is there anyone else up there?”

More often than not, we are that man! Or at least I am. I can't begin to tell you the number of times I have asked God for help, only to reject the hand he extends. I seek his counsel, but fail to implement his advice. I turn to him for guidance, but walk away confused. Why? I'm glad you asked. Allow me to be brutally honest. I have a difficult time trusting God!

I know this, because I have a difficult time trusting people. To be quite honest, a lot of the time it's easier for me to place my trust in things. Things do exactly what they were created to do--for the most part. Except technology. I trust technology less and less. And I have this suspicion we are heading toward a world that looks eerily familiar to the world in the movie i-Robot. But that's another discussion altogether. As I sit here, I trust that the chair will continue to support my weight. Pressing the keys on this keyboard, I trust that the computer will display the characters I am typing. I trust that the bottle of water on my desk will quench my thirst. All of these things I do based on trust. All without even giving it a second thought. But people are different.

People don't always do what they were created to do. They lie, they cheat, and they steal (which, in case you were wondering, isn't what they were created to do). That reason, in and of itself, is enough for me to second guess my trust in them. I lend something of value to a colleague and it gets returned in pieces. My trust begins to waver. I confide in a friend, only to discover those personal details are being shared with others, behind my back. My trust diminishes. I give someone my heart and they rip it out of my chest, toss it on the ground, stomp all over it, dig their heel into it, pick it up, and place it back in my hand, smile and walk away. The trust I had left quickly evaporates. The result is that I become jaded and trust no one.

If it's this difficult for me to trust the people around me--the people I see--how much more difficult is it for me to trust a God I cannot see? The answer to that is exponentially. It is exponentially more difficult for me to trust a God I cannot see. A being I have never met in person. Which brings me to an important thing about trust. It has to be earned; which is pretty tough when you can't see someone. Fortunately for us, God knows this. He knows that we will never trust him without proving himself faithful. That is why God doesn't just part the skies, and in a booming voice tell us to trust him. That is why he doesn't lead with the 10 commandments. He knows that won't work. Instead, he earns the trust of his creation. We see this play out in the Old Testament when he walks with Adam and Eve in the garden. He earns the trust of Abraham by making a covenant of blessing with him. God delivers his people from slavery, earning their trust again. All of this leads to the biggest demonstration of God's trustworthiness by offering his only son as an atoning sacrifice, doing away with the bloody sacrificial system once and for all.

Unfortunately, that isn't enough for many of us today. In theory, it's great; but in reality, we want to know if God is still worthy of our trust today. So, we look to him for personal demonstrations in our lives. Since the only tangible experience we have of God is the people created in his image--which just so happens to be everyone--this proves to be quite difficult. Friends and family let us down, and that reflects on God and affects our ability to trust him. The people who claim to follow God sway our trust one way or another by the way they portray him. The institutions that claim to represent him help us decide whether or not he is, in fact, trustworthy. As you see, our trust in God has far less to do with his faithfulness and more to do with our unfortunate perceptions. He's got his work cut out for him.

To think, we haven't even begun to address the fact that our lack of trust is motivated by fear. Fear that brings up questions about my self-preservation. Will God come through? I know he did last time, but what about this time? Can I count on him? Will he provide? Does he have my best interest at heart? Or is he just trying to get me to obey and fall in line? What will all of this mean for me, my loved ones, my hopes, and my dreams?

So, I ask again, do you trust God? And I’m not just talking about when things are going well. Do you trust him when it seems he's not even there? When everything isn't going as planned? When your marriage is falling apart? When your health is failing? When the finances come up short? When life isn't how you pictured it? How we answer this question is very telling. Because, according to Brennan Manning, author of The Ragamuffin Gospel, “It means more to God when we say I trust you, than when we say I love you; because trust is the preeminent expression of love.”

So, the big question that needs to be answered: Can I trust God?

CHOICES

It's true what they say--God does work in mysterious ways! If you had asked me just a few years ago where I would be right now, I certainly wouldn't have painted a picture like the one I see today. Scratch that; it's not a picture at all, but an ever-evolving story. While the beginning and end have been written, I get the pleasure of co-creating the plot-line with my Creator. Through the ups-and-downs, the twists-and-turns, the story we are creating is one of adventure and hope. While life may not go as planned, and circumstances aren't always ideal, I have discovered I still have the ability to choose. Above all, I can choose which path my life will take. I can choose to get bitter or get better; I can choose to give up or get up; I can choose to hold on or let go; I can choose to "forget" or forgive. And while I have found the latter of each is always a much better way to live, that doesn't mean it's always my default choice. 

The story I'm about to tell you, as do all stories, begins with a choice.

I just graduated from college and before me were a limitless number of choices. However, the $20,000 in college debt loomed above like a dark cloud ready to release a torrential downpour if I didn't take shelter soon. In this case, soon was a 6 month period of deferment before I had to start repaying the loans. Seeing as how I had no money, and the only things I owned were a Dodge Intrepid inching toward 200,000 miles, a few pieces of dilapidated, dorm room furniture--purchased at Good Will--and a plastic set of drawers containing all my clothes, the number of choices I actually had seemed a bit more limited than I originally thought. 

So, the first choice I made was the same anyone in my shoes would make. I took up rent-free shelter in my parents basement. Considering I was getting married in a few months, it seemed the most prudent choice. Its' not like I had a job or any money that would afford me the ability to make a different choice. Besides, this way I could save money and start planning out my future. At least that's what I told myself.

Then came the choice to get a job. Due to the fact that church jobs I was qualified for were few and far between, I made the next best choice. With the help of my brother, I landed a job at the telecommunication company he was working for. While there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with the job, working at the help desk, doing Internet tech support wasn't part of my 5 year plan. The hours weren't that great, and most mornings I dreaded waking up and heading off to work. I'm sure being at my desk in the call center by 5 in the morning had something to do with it. Even the sun had enough sense not be up by then. But the paycheck made up for all that. Which was good since I wanted my choices to prove that I was financially stable.

Which lead to the next choice I made--to marry the woman I had been dating. Although you could argue this choice came almost seven months ago when I bought the ring and planned the details of my proposal over Christmas break. Either way, the wedding was soon and I would no longer be taking care of one, but two. Which meant there were many more choices I would have to make. Like trying to start a family. Buying a house. And eventually getting a divorce.

The problem with all of this is that I was unsure. I was unsure about what to do with my life or how I even wanted it to look. And when you're unsure, you don't normally make the best choices. However, due to the ever increasing responsibility, the choices I had to make seemed to become more and more urgent. For that reason, most of the choices I made were uninformed and haphazard, without any regard to the effects they would have years to come. In other words, the choices I made lacked a sense of desire and had little direction.

Over the years I had become accustomed to the belief that this is how life was meant to be. That pursuing my dreams was no longer an option. That my wants and desires were required to take the back seat to responsibility. That somehow, being an adult meant joy and fulfillment always had to be secondary. That growing up meant I had to choose between living a life and living a life of significance.

Looking back, I see that many of the choices I made were for the wrong reason. I can't begin to tell you how many choices I made out of necessity. Moving in with my parents. Settling for a job I didn't particularly care for--not just once, but three times (that I can currently remember). Then there were the choices I made out of obligation. The choice to get married--because that's what you do when you've been dating someone for an extended period of time; especially right out of college. The choice to try to start a family. The choice to purchase a house. Each of these choices I made required other things to be put on hold. Things I wasn't ready to let go of.

Inevitably, all these choices lead to resentment. I didn't like where my life was headed. Every morning consisted of a Starbucks run--where uttering a word was no longer necessary for my grande white-chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso to be made. Pulling out of the Starbucks parking lot, I finished my 3 minute commute to work where I would spend the next 8 hours, my fingers mindlessly pecking the keyboard while my glossy eyes stared at the screen in front of me. From there I would go home, eat dinner and sit in front of the television to unwind before heading off to bed. Just so I could get up and do it all over the next day. Because I now had to pay for all the wrong choices that had enslaved me.

I felt trapped. Trapped at my job. To quit would spell financial ruin. The loss of income would result in the loss of the house, the car and my excellent credit score. To take that new job was risky. Packing up and moving was irresponsible--even though it was my dream job. At least that's what I was lead to believe since it came with a much smaller paycheck and required moving across the country. Then there was my marriage. If I'm at all honest with myself, I had some doubts about this marriage. Nobody knows this, but I almost broke it off after we were engaged. I was unsure marriage was the right choice at the time, but I chalked it up to a case of 'cold feet' and trudged forward. From the beginning, there were indications it wasn't going to work out; I was just too blind and too stubborn to see them. But again, I made the choice, so I lived with the consequences--good and bad. Which eventually lead to the choice to get divorced. While it was a tough choice, it was a choice that, according to her, needed to be made to 'right the wrong we made five years ago.' Then there was the house. It walled me in--literally and figuratively. To sell after the market went south would be a financial disaster. And uprooting myself in the middle of the divorce would essentially be giving up and she would win. So, I continued to make choices I didn't want to make, but felt I had to.

I have a feeling that's where most of us find ourselves. Feeling trapped. Trying to make ourselves believe this is what life is all about. That these are the responsible choices to make. Please understand, I'm not saying every choice I made was wrong. I'm not suggesting that getting married right out of college is a terrible idea (but it might be). I don't think buying a house because it's cheaper than rent is a bad choice. Neither am I advocating for skipping out on responsibility. Sometimes taking any job is the best choice because bills have to be paid. But that choice starts long before the bills are even due; and begins with choosing not to incur that debt in the first place. All I'm saying is those weren't the choices I was ready to make. And they weren't the right choices for me at the time. For where I was at in life. For where I wanted to go. And for what I wanted to do. 

I believe there is a different way. That life can be much more. That we can find joy and fulfillment. If only we would have the courage to make different choices. To take our time, assess the outcome, and make good, informed choices. To stop allowing others to dictate the way our lives need to be lived. Because, in the end, the choice is ours. We can continue to make choices out of necessity. We can keep letting society dictate the trajectory of our life. We can continue to buy into the lies the media tells us. We can always settle. Or we make the difficult choice to do what is right--for us. Where we have been. Where we are. And where we want to go. That's what I'm doing. And I have to tell you, it's much more enjoyable making these kinds of choices.

THEY'RE ALL HYPOCRITES, Part 2

Obviously, Jesus has a great disdain for hypocrites. Reading between the lines isn't necessary, because he makes his angst for them quite apparent. He says things like: "You hypocrites!" "You whitewashed tombs!" And my personal favorite, "You brood of Vipers!" And just in case you are wondering, that's not a term of endearment. I'm certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'd be sleeping on the couch (at the very least) if I referred to my wife in that manner.

Just as obvious, is the world's belief that all Christians are hypocrites. Like Jesus, they don't pull any punches. They confront us. And they call us out. I can't begin to count the number of times I've heard the term thrown around in a discussion about Christian morality. I know for a fact a number of individuals have accused me of being a hypocrite. And I'm certain I've even made the same accusation about some of my fellow believers.

But this raises some important questions.

How do we define hypocrisy? Is this the same manner Jesus defines it? Or, when Jesus uses the term, to address the religious elite, is there a nuance we don't quite see? And of course, the question that begs to be answered, are all Christians really hypocrites?

Let's begin by clarifying what we mean by the term hypocrite. But, before we do that, allow me to tell you a story. A story about an individual whose hypocrisy was blatantly obvious.

After hours of studying for my upcoming finals, I decided a study break was in order. I made my way across the parking lot, got into my car, started her up and began the short trip to Quik Trip. I took a right turn to pull off campus--I tell you that so you know I had the right-of-way. At the same time, across the street, making a left-hand turn was a blue Ford Taurus. Of course, the driver was in a hurry. I know this because he rolled through the stop sign, made a left-hand turn and cut me off. Being a ministry major, I reacted appropriately by tailgating him. By the end of the first block, I was so close that I could read all the bumper stickers adorning the rear end of the beat up Taurus. My eyes were quickly drawn to the bottom right corner of the trunk. It was there I couldn't help but notice the plain black sticker with white, block letters stating "I would rather push a Chevy than drive a Ford." The irony was too great. I burst into laughter, let off the gas and let him pull away.

Somewhere along the line, this guy made a decision that contradicted his belief--which just so happened to be there for all to see, on the back of his rusty, blue Ford Taurus. Apparently, it was more important to get from point A to point B in a timely manner, than to push his Chevy Cavalier numerous miles. Undoubtedly, this is the way we define hypocrisy in this culture, in this time--to act in contradiction to your stated beliefs or feelings.

When someone makes the statement that "All Christians are hypocrites!" they are claiming that they have witnessed Christians acting contrary to the teachings of Jesus. And if this is the hypocrisy they speak of, they are absolutely correct--all Christians really are hypocrites! I won't deny that fact. We stumble. We fall. None of us has upheld all the commandments. None of us has perfectly embodied the teachings of the rabbi Jesus. All of us do things contrary to not only what he taught, but even what we believe. All of us fail to love our neighbor. All of us struggle to forgive those who have wronged us. All of us fall short of the standard Jesus lived out. You get the picture--we all act contrary to the standards Jesus calls us to uphold. We make mistakes. That’s, in part, what it means to be human.

This is something we should embrace rather than avoid. By embrace, I mean own up to it. Admit that we are powerless over our flesh in and of ourselves. Recognize that the only way we will truly live as Jesus lived is by continually falling forward through effort and grace. Perhaps then the world would stop viewing us as hypocrites. Maybe we should take a note from Paul's book--literally. If anyone had a past to shy away from it was this guy. Even with his colorful past and his continual shortcomings, he displayed honesty and vulnerability. Not once did he shy away from the truth of who he had been and who he was. He accounted for all the hypocrisy in his own life, not because he was proud of it, but because there was power in the humility of owning it. Admitting his hypocrisy, Paul, in Romans chapter seven, said: “I don’t understand myself at all, for I really want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do the very thing I hate. I know perfectly well that what I am doing is wrong, and my bad conscience shows that I agree that the law is good. But I can’t help myself, because it is sin inside me that makes me do these evil things.”

I would make the case that doing what we don't want to do doesn't make us, or Paul, a hypocrite. It makes us sinners! Sinners in need of a savior. And therein lies the confusion. We have blurred the lines between the two. They are not entirely synonymous. And it is of utmost importance we make a clear distinction between a sinner and a hypocrite. Afterall, Jesus didn't necessarily equate sinning with hypocrisy; because he knew all of us would sin. But he clarified that we don't all have to be hypocrites!

You see, a sinner is a person who falls short from time-to-time, all the while striving to be more Christ-like. On occasion, we all act in contradiction to what we truly believe. None of us will ever perfectly live out each and every one of our beliefs, on a consistent basis, in any arena of life; especially when it comes to issues of faith. Let me reiterate that none of us will perfectly imitate Jesus 100% of the time. I'm not condoning that fact, nor am I condemning it. Accepting the forgiveness he has offered, does not make us perfect; it just makes us sinners who have accepted his grace. And just because we fail to consistently follow the example Christ has given us does not make us hypocrites. Nor does it invalidate the truths his life put on display. I know many individuals seeking to genuinely follow in the footsteps of Jesus, all the while failing miserably. Yet each and every time they pick themselves up, admit their shortcomings and continue right where they left off. They trust in the Holy Spirit to convict, change, and empower them to grow. They believe, by grace, that tomorrow they will be closer to living like Jesus than they have been today.

A hypocrite, on the other hand is a person who purposely deceives others. A person who attempts to live two lives simultaneously--one in public and one in private. They practice sins on a routine basis and when confronted lie about them and remain unrepentant. They appear holy, all the while disregarding the reality of their own sinfulness. They put on their Sunday mask, only to remove it the moment they get in their car and leave the church premises. They point out the faults of others, and yet fail to see their own. In order to elevate themselves, they deprecate those around them. They deny the grace that has been extended them to those they encounter. They, according to Jesus, take meticulous care of their outer appearance while ignoring the rotting mess that is their soul. This, it seems to me, is the way Jesus defines hypocrisy. Which is clearly different than the way we define it.

The moment we, as sinners, downplay our own sinfulness, in order to emphasize our own righteousness is the moment we become hypocrites.

It is these types of individuals, Jesus tells us, aren't really his followers. In Matthew 7, he makes an important clarification: “Not all people who sound religious are really godly. They may refer to me as ‘Lord,’ but they still won’t enter the Kingdom of Heaven. The decisive issue is whether they obey my Father in heaven.” Their failure to recognize their own inadequacy to save themselves through outward obedience, sets themselves against true followers of his and exempts them from the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Understand that I didn't write this to excuse all our failings as Christians. Know that I don't condone all of our behavior; nor do I expect you to. By all means, hold us accountable. Call us out. But offer us the chance to own our faults and seek out forgiveness. On behalf of those of us that have failed to exemplify the life of Jesus, I apologize. For the times our actions and attitudes have turned you away from God, I am sorry. We will stumble. And we will fall. Sometimes flat on our faces. But to label all of us hypocrites isn't entirely accurate. Even Jesus didn't hold his disciples to that standard of perfection. It is my hope that you will no longer take the actions of a few to judge the whole. Furthermore, I hope you have gained some insight into the difficulty it is to follow the only man to have walked this Earth without sinning. 

THEY'RE ALL HYPOCRITES, Part 1

According to one of my favorite authors, Brennan Manning, "The single greatest cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable." Which is just a much more eloquent way of saying that the world thinks we’re a bunch of hypocrites. Chances are, if you have attended Church for any period of time, associated with anyone who claims to be religious, or lived on planet Earth, you have heard this accusation thrown around. Maybe you've even made the claim yourself. Truth be told, it’s an all too common accusation thrown at Christians.

To be quite honest, most of the time, the claim is warranted. I have a friend who wants nothing to do with Jesus because his father, a very religious man, was active in the local church but behind closed doors was abusive. Another friend continues to distance herself from anyone associated with the church because of their judgmental glares about her lifestyle choices. Bombarded, by the media, with news of scandal after scandal surrounding church leaders has left a bitter taste in the mouths of some of my closest friends. I have relatives that label Christians as hypocrites because time-after-time their trust has been broken and their feelings were hurt by the arrogance of a pastor. And I can list countless individuals I know (some former pastors), who despise the Christian faith because, to them, it seems to be the most unforgiving, judgmental religion on the planet. So, the label 'hypocrite' may not be too far off.

Whatever their reasoning, I understand. I, too, have personally encountered the hypocrisy they see in our communities of faith. And if I'm at all honest, the number of times I have been the hypocrite who has turned others away are too numerous to count. I lead a small group at my church where I talk about the importance of community, and yet I find myself too busy to make time for others, bear their burdens, or enjoy their company. I am part of accountability groups, stressing the importance of authenticity, all the while keeping my own secrets tucked away in the darkest corners of my heart. I preach sermons about denying yourself to follow Christ, yet I own two vehicles--one of which is a BMW, have multiple televisions and a closet full of clothes. I stress the importance of being a good steward (with everything, not just money), yet I have been known to enjoy a $5 cup of coffee. Many Sundays I haphazardly recite the lyrics to numerous worship songs about giving God my all, while simultaneously creating a mental check-list of everything I need to accomplish once service is over.

Does that make my a hypocrite?

According to this individual, it does. "The problem with [Christians] lies not only in an oft-noted failure to practice what they preach, but an equally pronounced tendency to ignore what the Bible itself, preaches. Christians practice what can only be described as ‘selective morality.’ What they like, they cling to and shove down other’s throats; what they don’t like, they ignore vehemently. That which is palatable and acceptable is supposedly applicable to all; while that which is obnoxious, inconvenient, or self-denying is only applicable to those addressed 2,000 years ago. Their hypocrisy is so rampant that even the validity of calling oneself ‘Christian’ is in question.”

By these standards, all Christians are hypocrites! Every last one of us has ignored parts of the Bible that seem a bit too difficult, too inconvenient, too extreme. We, like the experts in the law of Jesus' day, constantly rationalize our own interpretations of his words. In order to justify our actions (or in-actions), we tirelessly search for even the smallest loophole--surely that man isn't my neighbor, giving to the poor would only enable them, evangelism isn't my responsibility as an introvert, as long as I don't idolize this it's okay, or Jesus was speaking metaphorically, he doesn't expect me to do that.

But I’m going to pause for a second here. Just in case you feel that you have managed to meticulously uphold the teachings of Jesus, I offer you an out. If you, like the rich young ruler, honestly believe "I've obeyed all these commands since I was young," then by all means stop reading. Go about the rest of your day. Listening to another hypocrite would only prove to be a waste of your time.

Now, for the rest of us. I think there is more to this whole hypocrisy thing than meets the eye. Perhaps our view of hypocrisy isn't the same as Jesus' view. Maybe the way we define hypocrisy, is not the way Jesus defines hypocrisy. Perhaps the lines have been blurred between being a sinner in need of a savior and being a hypocrite.

Which we will get to soon.

THE BUSINESS OF CHURCH

If I'm at all honest, I was less than excited for the gathering that was about to take place. I got the sense it was going to turn into more of a business meeting than anything else. Which is part of the reason I still hadn't committed to attend. To top it off, I had other important things to check off my to-do-list. The lawn needed to be mowed. My laundry had been sitting unfolded, in the dryer for the past three days. And I hadn't read the book sitting on my night-stand in almost a week. Now seemed like as good a time as any to knock those things out. But, there was the whole matter of dinner. I had to eat sometime and my fridge was full of condiments...just condiments. For that reason, the offer of a free meal was enough to rope me in to the meeting. So, I obliged. I drove myself to the restaurant, pulled into the parking lot, made my way to the door and let out a deep sigh.

Just inside the front door, I joined seven other guys waiting for our table. Eventually, we were ushered to a room separated from the rest of the diners by a barn-style door. Each of us took a seat around a large, round table. We placed our orders and the sound of chatter filled the room. It wasn't long before our meals were placed before us and the silence set in. Once we had cleaned our plates, the silence was broken with a "this is why I brought you all here" speech. Over the next twenty minutes, the discussion focused on some big decisions facing the church--decisions that could make or break it's momentum. The biggest decision being how to embrace the rapid numerical growth we had been experiencing, while staying community oriented.

But then it happened. Just as I thought, the discussion transitioned into more of a lecture on how the church was intended to function--like an organization. Permit me to vent for a minute, but this view of church doesn't sit well with me. It makes me defensive. It sets me on edge. This sort of discussion makes my stomach churn. And that is why I can empathize with those who have such disdain for "organized religion." When we talk about the church as an organization, I can see why so many people become disenchanted. It doesn't come as a surprise, then, that they get the idea church is all about numbers and money. Of course, when this is the picture we paint, they are lead to believe the church is just another business that needs to be lead and managed. Another entity solely governed by democratic procedures and committees bound by capitalist tendencies.

Without even stepping foot in the church we can see that some churches concern themselves, far too much, with self-promotion and growth. We see that they exist to compete with every other church--vying for a bigger share of the market. Their focus has shifted from people to programs, projects and budgets. Which, it seems to me, is why numerous churches have become content stealing sheep instead of finding the ones they have actually lost.

There are also the churches that seem to milk every dollar they can out of their constituents. Passing around the offering plate every time the doors are opened. Churches that charge to use their building--not God's. Churches that nickle and dime the people who's tithes and offerings have purchased each and every brick. Churches claiming that by donating a certain amount of money to purchase new blades for the aviation department's helicopter, will result in the outpouring of God's blessing in your life. While I wish I was exaggerating that example, I'm not! Churches that chain off the entrance to their parking lot because of events taking place nearby. A gesture made worse by the fact that they post sings informing event attenders that use of their parking lot will cost $5 a vehicle. Churches that would rather make a few extra bucks than graciously extend the use of their facilities because they are simply tools for ministry. Luther took offense to similar tactics used by the church--selling indulgences--because he saw it as exploitation of both church goers and the poor. All this money talk gets me wondering. If Jesus proposed the same challenge to churches today as he did to the rich young ruler--sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor--would they oblige, or would they too walk away downtrodden because of their great wealth?

While I don't want to come across as judgmental, these tactics don't belong in the church. With these kind of experiences in mind, it's easy to see why people view the church as just a big box store pedaling religion. And to be honest, I can't really blame them. The unfortunate thing is that this has resulted in droves of people turning their back on Jesus because they don't realize that's not the church he came to build--a church like the one we find in Acts.

In the stories of that early church I see a community united in love. A body that is vibrant and full of life. A gathering where the Gospel was unabashedly proclaimed--not easy to swallow self-help advice. A community where Jesus really was Lord--not a governing hierarchy. A people who gave the Holy Spirit room to move because they weren't constrained by traditions, set lists, transitions, and schedules. A church that, according to Scripture, was adding thousands daily (which in a culture that didn't count women, translated to many more). A church that collected money not to build their own kingdom, but to build the kingdom of God by meeting the needs of the community--understanding everything was a gift to be shared.

I get the feeling Jesus wouldn't care much for the "organized religion" of today--afterall, he didn't think too highly of it in his day. I'm certain his goal was never to establish a non-profit organization. I doubt he was concerned with building a well-oiled institution. And I don't think his focus was to create a smooth running ecclesiastical machine. Numbers didn't impress him. Money wasn't a motivating factor. Bricks and mortar didn't constrain him.

Jesus came to turn our understanding of church--and pretty much life in general--upside down. He came to establish a church that was to be a beacon of hope for the underprivileged, the abused, the burnt out, the lost, and the religiously bankrupt. A church that would be a catalyst to save us from ourselves. A church called to turn the world upside down. A church where the last were first and the first were last. A church that came not to be served, but to serve.

Perhaps the church isn't an organization. Maybe it isn't even an organism. I wonder if the church is just...the church. And maybe the church, like Jesus, defies any label we try to impose upon her. When functioning in all her beauty and grandeur, there has never been and will never be anything quite like the church. But that can't take place as long as we think Jesus came to establish some sort of organization.

A GOD OF COMPASSION

I haven't posted anything for a while as I've been in a bit of a writing slump. That and things have been a bit hectic with several big life changes happening in the next few months. So, I give you this...a sermon I preached several months ago. And this way you don't even have to read anything.

http://podbay.fm/show/324879581/e/1359262800?autostart=1

TRUTH

One Sunday morning, I was facilitating a discussion with the teenagers in my small group. The students were engaged. Most of them voiced their opinions. Some of them even backed their views up with Scripture. Others defended their stance based on personal experience. The discussion was going well, but we had veered so far off course I wasn't sure how to make our way back to the original topic. Usually this didn't bother me, because those seemed to be the times their perspectives were broadened the most. But I could see things were beginning to get heated. The students were divided and beginning to make things personal.

I interrupted the students in hopes of bringing them back to the point at hand. It didn't help. The open dialogue on truth had taken a turn for the worse. It was now a full on assault in which denominational pride resorted to church bashing and religion hating. I knew that if I didn't intervene soon, all hell would break loose--the Crusades would be re-birthed and someone might get burned at the stake. After a while, my frustration got the best of me and I opened my mouth long enough to let a few unfiltered words fly. No, I didn't yell, swear at them, or lose my temper in any manner. Had that been the case, I'm sure the backlash would have been much quicker and less severe.

There, in the middle of what used to be the sanctuary, I told that small group of teenagers they could find truth in the Qur'an. As you might have guessed, I now had their full attention. With about 30 eyes staring back at me, it was time to offer an explanation. For the rest of the morning I unpacked that statement to those impressionable minds. As I began to wrap things up, I made sure to drive home the point I was trying to make--there is plenty of truth outside Christianity if we are willing to see it. As our time drew to a close, they gathered their pens, Bibles and cell phones to head to church with their parents. I knew this wasn't going to end well for me.

Not to my surprise, their parents and the church leadership were appalled. They couldn't believe I would make such a statement (they obviously didn't know me that well yet). The backlash consisted of angry phone calls from parents and an adult supervisor in my small group for the next month. In the end it all got sorted out, and I got to keep my job.

Sadly, this scenario plays out on a regular basis in Christian circles. Whether you choose to believe it or not, there is truth to be found outside Christianity.  If we have an open mind, we will see truth everywhere we turn. Science has given us vast amounts of truth. We have found truth in the business world. Even the world of sports can teach us some valuable lessons about truth. Music proclaims truth ('secular' and Christian alike). And as hard as we find it to believe, there is truth to be gleaned from other religions. Please understand that in no way am I saying that all religions are equal. Nor am I saying they all lead to the same God. What I am saying is that if you have an open mind and look a little closer, you can find truth just about anywhere.

This is a pretty tough pill for us to swallow as Christians. With our claims of exclusivity, we think we have cornered the market on truth. I assure you, I'm not second guessing the claims of Christianity. Nor do I think there is anything wrong with making some of the exclusive claims we do. In actuality, every religion (whether people admit it or not) makes their own claims of exclusivity. So, the two--religion and exclusivity--go hand-in-hand. That's why it really isn't possible to adhere to more than one religion. Christianity claims Jesus is the only way to salvation. Hinduism and Buddhism are exclusive in the sense that adherents must deny foundational beliefs of theism. Judaism requires believers to earn salvation by virtue of their deeds--which are clearly laid out in the Torah. Islam teaches monotheism that sets itself against Christianities doctrine of the Trinity and claims of the divinity of Christ. While these are wide brush strokes that over-simplify each of these religions, you see that each have some sort of exclusive claim.

Rarely do I hear people bashing other religions for their claims. Which leads me to believe the problem with Christianity has little to do with it's exclusivity. I get the sense the world doesn't care much about the truth we claim to have because of our approach. In college, I had a professor whose mantra in class was "People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care." I think this was his way of getting us to rationally discuss things instead of personally attacking each others views. While I hate cliches, there is a lot of truth to this statement. And that's the problem when it comes our defense of the Gospel. The methods we use to perpetuate those claims reek of intolerance, egotisticalism and closed-mindedness.

Many of us have made it our mission to perpetuate and defend the truth of our faith. As someone in favor of a proper theology, a correct hermeneutic and a logical apologetic, I get it. People need to know the truth and we should stand up for what we believe. When my faith is scrutinized, I tend to be just as protective of that truth as the next guy. While that may seem like a viable approach for a religion that claims to have the absolute truth, I'm here to tell you it's not. There is a right and wrong way to proclaim the truth. Becoming closed off and defensive when our beliefs are put under scrutiny is not the way to go...unless you fear what believe isn't really true. Because in the end, the truth has nothing to hide and will make itself known.

The biggest issue people seem to take offense to is the fact that, as Christians, we've fooled ourselves into believing it's our beliefs that make us a better person, not our behavior. It's as though we read through the Bible, make note of all the truth it contains, but miss the picture entirely. We have all this knowledge and truth filed away, but it doesn't transform who we are.

Sometimes I wonder if our ego has gotten in the way. Perhaps it's time we take inventory and ask ourselves the tough questions. Are we seekers of truth or defenders of belief? Are we more concerned with being right or loving others? The differences are paramount. If truth is as important as we make it out to be, we need to prove it by being the incarnation of the Gospel.