The Trumping of Jesus

Well, it is done.  Donald Trump is the Republican nominee.  The balloons have fallen, and now we prepare for Hillary.

Over the past few months, and especially the last few days, we have been overrun by coverage of The Donald.  Even if you don’t watch the news.  Even if all you were looking for was a cute cat video or an update on a friend’s pregnancy, you have been blasted with Trump.

But what have you seen?  Support of Trump, sure.  Mocking of Trump, yes.  Vitriol, fear, incredulity.  But I think the main thing you have seen is that like him or hate him, he is the focus of so many people.

In my opinion, we talk about him far too much.  But of even greater concern is how we talk about him.

Listen for just a few moments to either a supporter or detractor and you get the same feeling: Donald Trump has the power to change the world!  No one mentions that it is that pesky congress that makes laws (whether you like or hate “Obamacare” remember congress had to pass it first.)  Never mind that the power of the President is limited (I highly suggest listening to this Freakonomics podcast about presidential power).  Apparently Trump has the ability to either resurrect American greatness or flush us all irrevocably down the toilet.  He sounds like a Greek god.  The only question is his intent.

Really?  Is that what we think?

Don’t get me wrong.  I want good leaders.  Like good laws.  But…

Whoever the president is cannot make me love or hate my neighbor.  They cannot make me stop teaching recovering drug addicts ways to improve their closes relationships.  Trump can’t rob me of the joy my children bring me or the excitement I feel about a newborn.  Hillary won’t make church better or worse.  They can’t make me treat my wife with honor and respect, or stop me from doing so.  The president cannot control my morality, my ethics, my compassion.

The important things cannot be touched, because they don’t come from the president.

They come from Jesus.

Remember Him?

He’s the guy who constantly said “Fear not.”  The one who announce he was The Way, Truth, and Life.  The fellow who claimed that the kingdoms of this world can’t touch his.

I am not trying to disparage anyone who has political concerns.  Nor am I trying to convince you how to vote.  Rather, I am simply asking: Do you fear Donald Trump (or Hillary Clinton) more than you trust Jesus?  Does your anxiety about this election in any way line up with your beliefs about Jesus as savior?  Do we give the president too much power over our lives and Jesus not enough?

I do hear Christians asking who Jesus would vote for.  And more often I hear Christians proclaiming they know who Jesus would vote for.  I sometimes wonder, if Jesus were running, and His platform was radically different from the Republican or Democrat, would we vote for Him?  Have we so bought that the way to really change the world is through politics that we have forgotten the one who actually changes hearts.

Perhaps I am wrong, but it seems a lot of us Christians actually believe that the key to Christianity and the future of this world is who gets elected.  But I thought we already had a king?

STOP

I think the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back was a Facebook post I read two weeks ago.

It was a Sunday and I was putting something on the church Facebook page.  My eye was drawn to a post that was sharing some commentary about the death of Nancy Reagan.  It caught my attention.  I didn’t care about the commentary, I just didn’t know that the former first lady had died. (With seven kids, staying up on the news cycle has become a priority somewhere between writing the great American novel and trying out for the NBA.  Things I would like to do, but have no time for.)  I have no particular affection for Mrs. Reagan, it’s just that her husband was the president of my childhood.

The commentary on her passing was pretty harsh.  The writer was not a fan of Mrs. Reagan.  And then came the comments.  I know it is a mistake to read them, but since some of them were by people I know, I couldn’t help it.

They were brutal.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised by what people are willing to say online.  But a woman had just died.  A woman who actually never held office.  Yet, she was called despicable names.  Called a racist.  A homophobe.  And numerous words I choose not to write here because they are beyond offensive. Some of those posting a comment consider themselves Christians.  But they simply joined the chorus.

Again, let me make it clear.  I am not some kind of fanboy of the Reagans.  There were many policy thoughts shared in the commentary about which I know nothing.  What I am writing is not about politics.  It is not about Nancy Reagan.  This is about us.  About Christians.  About how we talk.  About how we talk online.  About how we talk about politics.

The apostle Paul says the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  He doesn’t say be kind, unless you disagree politically.  Be gentle unless you think the other person doesn’t share your political philosophy.  Be patient except with those who don’t think exactly like you.

I wonder if you took all that Christian’s post or write online about politics, would the word joy describe any of it?  We claim to want peace, but our words stir up divisiveness and animosity.  In the name of love (loving our country, loving the poor) we spew vitriol and hatred.

What are we doing?  I am truly flabbergasted.

The only thing I can think to say in response is simply this:

Stop.  Just stop.

STOP!

The hateful rhetoric with which we often talk politics is blatantly unchristian.  Yet we cannot seem to be close to civil when discussing the other party’s candidates, or remotely objective when discussing our party’s.  Much of what we claim about the goodness of Christ goes out the window once we start discussing welfare and social security, Obamacare and guns.  Our speech shows we care more about an earthly election than the kingdom of God.  And we need to stop!

Just because the other person’s politics doesn’t fit your view of social justice doesn’t give you the right to call them a racist.  STOP.

No more name calling.  STOP.

No more assuming the motives of someone with whom we disagree.  STOP.

No more calling people evil because they choose to vote differently.  STOP.

Liberals are not libtards.  STOP.

Conservatives aren’t fascists.  STOP.

And by the way, a rant on Facebook that your twenty friends read isn’t an act of social justice.  Just STOP.

In an effort to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit, perhaps the best thing for many of us to do is to not comment.  To resist the urge to immediately make our case.  To learn the art of shutting up.  To just STOP!  If love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and gentleness are not going to be a part of what we say, then we need to exercise some self-control.  Just don’t speak.

Recently, I have heard many people ask, “How can someone call themselves a Christian and vote for Trump?”  Here is a better question:  How can someone talk about others the way we do and still claim we are following Jesus?

There are many concerned with Mr. Trump’s rhetoric.  They worry that his words will lead us into a rough place as a nation.  Perhaps.  But my take is that his words aren’t new.  His attitude is something I have read in the comments for years.  He is a reflection.  Not a reflection of a particular political philosophy.  But a reflection of a cultural attitude.  Attack.  Name call.  Show blatant disregard for those with whom you disagree.  This isn’t something new.  It is how many of us already act.  And we need to stop.

 

The Finicky Christian

My wife likes us to eat healthy. Lots of fruits and vegetables. And most of my kids fall right in line with this. They pretty much eat whatever is put on their plate. But a couple…not so much. One of my children, who is growing like a weed, is magically “not hungry” when a vegetarian soup is served. Another of my children just accidently overlooks the plate full of steamed vegetables. This annoys my wife, but I get it. Because I was a picky eater (My wife would claim I still am a little). Don’t get me wrong, I love vegetables. I just don’t dig fruit so much.

However, finicky not only describes how some of my kids approach food, it also describes how many Christians approach church. Church is viewed as an array of choices. So many in fact that numerous Christians are looking for a church that perfectly pleases their religious palate. Because we have so many church choices, there is very little need to partake of something that we don’t like. We can just keep looking for what we prefer.

So the chase of the “perfect” church begins. I like this theology, but I prefer that type of worship. I want a church that loves and takes care of the poor, but also has amazing classes for my four-year old. I want a church to take the exact right stance on every social and political issue. I want a church that calls me to a deep commitment to Christ, but understands that a whole lot of Sundays I won’t be there because I like to camp and travel. I expect a church to love me like I am family, but stay out of my personal business. And a church needs to understand that if I leave, it is not because I am not committed, but because the church is just not authentic/loving/compassionate/liberal/conservative/(fill in your own reason) enough.

Ignore the fact that there is no church on earth that can possibly fulfill all of this. Or that a church that even pulls a decent portion of this off would be an amazing place. For the finicky Christian, the impulse is to not consume even one thing that doesn’t please.

For years we have talked about the consumerism that plagues our churches. That it is easy to view church simply as another business whose job is to keep the customer (me) happy. I feel like we are moving toward something different. The finicky Christian isn’t merely interested in being happy or entertained (which is shallow), but rather believes they are right. They have figured out the answers. And church should conform as closely as possible to their viewpoint. So churches pretty much stink. If only they would do what I tell them. That is scary, and beyond self-righteous.

I run into more and more Christians who tell me they have no church, and don’t really want one. They are following Christ, and that is all that matters. They are Christians at large. I understand that the church can be a rough place. That horrible theology and practice, and even abuse or neglect, are real and could make anyone not want to attend. And we should all push for changes that help our churches look more and more like Jesus.

But I don’t think that’s the deal. For the finicky Christian, if a church can’t be found that really floats their boat, well….then perhaps there is no need for church. The church must change in the way I see fit, or I will leave. Whoa.

Of course, as any parent knows, there is something that can be done about finicky eaters. At our house, you can either eat what you are served, or you can be hungry. We are not making another meal because you refuse to eat broccoli or tomatoes.

But when it comes to finicky Christians, there is no way to force someone to do what might actually help them grow and mature. Instead, with our large number of churches and the advent of social media, we have made it easy to simply gripe, complain, and switch churches. Write a couple of Facebook posts about the hypocrisy of Christians, complain to your best friend that most churches aren’t doing enough to help people, and then you can say you tried to make it work, but churches don’t want to change.

For the finicky Christian, any breakup with the church is an “it’s not me, it’s you” situation.

But here is the big problem. Because we are so picky, we remain children. Part of being mature is the growing understanding that it ain’t all about me. That a group of people is highly unlikely to fit all my preferences and meet all my needs. But that is learned through sticking things out. I often call marriages “maturity factories.” They kind of force us to grow up, change, and mature. There is only one stipulation: you have to stick it out long enough for some growth to happen. Sometimes the reason church matures us is because IT IS NOT the way we would choose it. But again, that takes time.

When I was about eight years old, we sat down for dinner one night and there was some fresh, green onions on the table. My parents seemed to really enjoy them. I wanted to try one, but I wasn’t sure because while they may have been fresh and green, they were onions. When there was one left I took it. My mom said that I could have it, but I needed to actually eat it. No problem. But then I took a bite. Ugggghh. I kept chewing and chewing, but it wouldn’t go down. I sat and chewed and sat and chewed. How can food somehow grow in your mouth? Plates were now being cleaned. I was the only one left at the table. My mom gently encouraged me to just swallow. It will be okay.

This story would probably sound strange to my children. Because I love onions. I can eat one like an apple. I am not saying that I love onions because my mom made me keep chewing. I am just pointing out that often the problem isn’t the onion, it is the kid.

For many of us it may be time to grow up, and eat our vegetables.

Death Comes First

What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? ² By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? ³ Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? ⁴ We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.

⁵ For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. ⁶ For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— ⁷ because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.

(Romans 6:1-7)

When reading the apostle Paul, one of the defining characteristics of his thought is the absolute necessity of death for those who wish to walk with Jesus. We are to crucify the sinful nature, crucify our minds, put to death the old self.

But far too often, we Christians want to run to Easter. We want the joy of the resurrection without the suffering of death. We long for a new life, while clinging to so much of the old. It seems we forget what should be obvious: Resurrection can only occur where there is death.

God longs to resurrect us. He is the giver of new life. That is his part. He brings the dead to life. No one else can do it.

But our role is to put things to death. To crucify that which needs to die so something wonderful can take its place. We often lament that we live in a world that has become so good at dishing out death. And yet, the one place where death would be good for us, we often shrink from killing.

We want resurrection for our marriage, but are we willing to first put to death the selfishness that is destroying it?

We want so desperately for others to view the kingdom of God as we do, but are we willing to crucify the arrogance and self-righteousness that pushes so many away?

We demand that our brothers and sisters conform to the values of Jesus, but are we willing to destroy that part of us that berates and mocks them when they don’t?

We want the freedom that comes with new life in Christ, but are we willing to take the responsibility of crucifying our sinful nature to get it?

Yet, God’s call is clear this Friday. Be crucified with Christ. Put to death the old.

Make no mistake, there are but two requirements for resurrection: the grace of God and death. Let us not forget which part we must play. It is Good Friday. Easter is coming, but first there must be death. But not just Christ’s death, our death.

Prostitutes and Tax Collectors

 In the gospels Jesus takes a lot of grief for who he hangs out with.  And not just from arrogant snobs.  His own disciples sometimes wonder about the company their teacher keeps.  But the accusation most frequently tossed at Jesus is that he eats with “tax collectors and prostitutes.”  That is why, when many Christian’s talk about what it means to truly follow Jesus, our willingness to associate with someone like a prostitute becomes the place where the rubber meets the road.

And yet, if you go back and read many of the barbs thrown at Jesus, they don’t mention prostitutes, but rather “sinners”.  But they almost always mention tax collectors.

When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” (Matthew 9:11)

The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is proved right by her deeds.” (Matthew 11:19)

But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” (Luke 5:30)

Even more amazing is that Jesus himself uses tax collectors as examples of a pretty low form of humanity.

If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? (Matthew 5:46)

So, I guess if you really want to be a disciple, it is vital to spend some quality time with an IRS agent.  But I think we instinctively know that is not the case.  You cannot make a one to one connection between “prostitutes and tax collectors” with whom Jesus chose to associate and “prostitutes and tax collectors” today.  Rather, it is vital for Christians to discover who are our, modern-day “sinners and tax collectors.”

To do so, we must first remember what made these people so repugnant to their fellow Jews.  Prostitutes or sinners is fairly obvious. They sinned against God’s law.  But it goes deeper than that.  It is one thing to commit adultery.  It is something else to continually and willfully commit adultery.  For a descendant of Israel to witness a fellow Israelite disregard God’s law over and over again was too much.

Tax collectors were even worse.  Judea was under control of the hated Roman Empire.  The promised land was occupied by a pagan invader.  Tax collectors chose to work with and collect taxes for Rome.  They were traitors who profited from their treachery!

So you see the situation.  A good, upstanding, law-abiding Jew could have thought the following:  “We are occupied by idolators because we have sinned.  Look, those prostitutes are blatantly disobeying our most precious commandments.  It is because of sin like that we are suffering.  And to top it off those tax collectors work with our oppressors.  And they make money from it. How disgusting!”

That is why it is such a big deal that Jesus eats with these types of people.

So who today would we, as followers of Jesus, find this repugnant?  Who do we view as profiting from sin?  Who do we believe are traitors to our most sacred values?

These questions are difficult.  Our society is much more fractured than 1st century Judaism.  In America, what one person finds repugnant the next person celebrates.  This is also true for Christians.  We disagree sometimes on even what is sin.  So there may not be a particular category or type of person that fits “prostitutes and tax collectors” for us.

Instead, let’s make it personal.  Who do you find offensive and disgusting?  For some, homosexuals would qualify.  We find their lifestyle repugnant and believe they are warping society.  For others, it might be those who find homosexuality so repulsive.  For a conservative it might be liberals.  For democrats, republicans.  Look into your heart. Who do you blame for the ills of society?  Who do you think is destroying the church?  Those are your sinners and tax collectors.  And the call of Jesus is to be so kind, so good, so full of grace, that those people want to eat with you.

Now understand, Jesus never says that being a prostitute or tax collector is fine with him.  In fact, Jesus is extremely hard on sexual sin.  He is the one that not only says adultery is wrong, but lust as well.  He asks the woman caught in adultery to “go and sin no more.”  When he eats dinner at the home of Zacchaeus, a tax collector, Zacchaeus is so moved by the experience that he vows to pay back four times to anyone he has ripped off (my assumption is he makes this promise knowing he would have to do some payback).  Jesus does not eat dinner with tax collectors and prostitutes because he thinks those are worthy professions.  He eats dinner with tax collectors and sinners because He thinks they are worth it.

And that is the challenge for us.  Can we be so moved by the kingdom that we find worth in those we typically see as repulsive?  Can we love those we usually skewer? Can we be so full of grace that even our enemy must admit that we make a not so bad dinner companion?

 

 

Church

(The bulk of this was written after our worship service Sunday evening)

As minister at a small church, my times of worship too often consist of running around.  I am solving problems, coordinating people, helping visitors, taking kids to the bathroom.  I often go an entire service without actually making it to my seat.  So when I get to slide in a row next to my wife and kids, it is a wonderful, if fleeting, moment.

Sunday I had such a moment.  Only I got way more than I expected.

As I found my wife in the crowd (in such moments it helps to be married to a tall redhead) and moved onto her row, here is what I noticed.

On the row in front of us were four people.  A young married couple, holding hands.  Looked like two people in love.  And they are.  But I also know that he has truly struggled with addiction.  And she recently got out of prison.

Next to them, a man I have known for years.  He is the definition of the working poor.  Sometimes dirty, always smelling of cigarettes.  He sits on the same row where he used to sit with his wife.  She died a year ago this week.  Seeing him reminds me that I need to announce that tomorrow night we are having a dinner and fundraiser to try to buy a headstone for her grave.

Beside him, an older gentlemen.  The oldest man in our church.  He can no longer see well enough to even read the bible.  But that’s okay.  He has accomplished the task of memorizing most, if not all of it.  He bounces and claps as we sing, he doesn’t have much rhythm.  But he moves anyway, as if his loss of eyesight has made him believe that no one can see him.  Oh, that’s not the truth.  He doesn’t care because He loves Jesus so much.

And underneath their chairs is my three-year old son.  He is playing with the little bitty cars he is earning for going in the potty.

This odd juxtaposition is not odd.  I see something close to it every week.  I am used to it.  But I don’t think I should be.  There are so many places on earth where this mix would not happen.  Sadly, one of those places can sometimes be church.  As I look, I should be in awe.  For what I am seeing is what church actually is.

You see, church is not the songs we sing and the prayers we pray.  Although it is that.  And church isn’t just the people who are there.  It is that too.  But it is more.  Church is the place where the mystery of God’s work in the world is glimpsed for a moment.  Where a song of praise and a recovering addict and communion and a half-blind man and a sermon and a little boy with his play cars all somehow seem perfectly harmonious.

We too often want so much from church.  Great music that moves us.  A sermon that is funny and heart-wrenching.  People that genuinely seem interested in us.  Classes for our kids that are exciting.  It may be a lot to ask, but that is what we are looking for.

But I think maybe, just maybe, we don’t want enough from church.  Music and sermons and children’s classes don’t seem to matter when we glimpse God at work. Because in the moment we notice God’s hand we see beyond what we want, into what we truly need.  The gospel.  Made real.  Made alive.  Among us.

I am not sure this can be replicated.  That a mission statement or staff meeting can make it happen.  It is only the work of God.  The love of Christ.  The guiding of the Spirit.  But Sunday, at least for a few minutes, I got to be along for the ride.  And I knew it.

So all I could do was look.  And sing.  I looked at an addict, an ex-con, a widower, a blind man, and a little boy.  And I sang.

I look at my son and at them.  And I sing.  Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul.  And I look at him and at them.  And I sing.  Worship his holy name.  And the couple in front of me raises their hands as one.  Sing like never before, O my soul.  And the old man is half-turned around, clapping off-beat and smiling at me.  I will worship your holy name.

 

Resolved: To Never Say This Again

As a child, nothing could strike fear in your heart quite like the phrase “do you understand me?”  Anyone who has ever heard it, or even said it (I shamefully raise my hand) knows the true meaning of the line.  The speaker is not trying to discover if their communication has been comprehended.  Oh no.  All that is being conveyed is: THIS CONVERSATION IS OVER, DO WHAT I JUST SAID!  No child would ever say in response, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you just said.”  The proper response is simply “Yes, sir.”  And we all know it.

That’s why this is bad communication.  Because it is a communication ender.  Even if misunderstanding lingers in the air, it does not matter.  This conversation is over.

As a parent I have attempted to remove this type of communication from my parenting playbook.  Personally, I prefer asking a child to repeat back to me what I just said.  That way I know if they actually comprehended.  And if they did, they now know that I know they understand.

There is a similar phrase being used by Christians.  It sounds good.  It sounds right.  It sounds like Jesus.  But it is a communication ender.  And often it is used to bludgeon opponents.  The phrase: “I just want to love people.”

On the surface, I love this phrase.  Because, I want to love people.  I deeply desire to love my family, my church, my neighbors, the people I meet every day, the hurting, the poor, my enemies…  The call of Jesus is to love people.  Paul says that to do anything, even something great, without love is pointless.

The problem is, while the phrase sounds great, the way it is used is the opposite of love.

Christian A:  “I believe that X is wrong.  It is a sin.”

Christian B: “Jesus tells us not to judge.  I just want to love people.”

Now do you see what Christian B has done.  Either agree with me, or you don’t love people.  There is no longer a chance to converse or discuss.  The conversation is ended with:  I LOVE AND YOU DON’T.  Wow.  How loving.

There are big problems with this phrase.  First, it is often used when the topic being discussed is one where church-going, knowledgeable, Jesus following Christians disagree.  Seizing the high ground of “my side is the loving one” is a refusal to discuss the topic and yet claim some kind of victory.  It would be better to simply say, “I don’t wish to discuss.”

Second, the phrase makes an assumption that anyone who disagrees with me does not really love people.  Yet, while we are called to love, the wisdom of how to do so is difficult.  For instance, imagine a young man in his early twenties with a drug problem.  Over and over his family has attempted to get him help.  He consistently refuses to do anything to get better.  After disappearing for months, the young man appears at his parent’s front door.  He is strung out.  He begs to be let in.  Says he is starving.  Has nowhere to live.  Now, what should the parent’s do?  If they let him in, or refuse to open the door, would it be appropriate to argue with their decision by saying, “well, I just want to love people.”?  Often, the loving thing to do is not so obvious.

Third, using the phrase “I just want to love people” is not loving.  Anytime we paint others in a corner, claiming their thoughts and ideas are not in line with the love of Christ, we should do so very carefully.  To refuse to listen to any further discussion, and refuse in the name of love, is mean-spirited.  Disagree all you want.  But the second you claim that someone who disagrees with you does not love people, you set yourself in a high and mighty position.  Quite the opposite of just loving people.

At this point it may seem I have made a mountain out of a mole hill.  But I am convinced that how we discuss difficult issues is often more symbolic of our life in Christ than the answers we reach.  Throughout history, Christians have reached different conclusions and will continue to do so.  How we talk with and about those with whom we disagree, especially in the Body of Christ, is one of our biggest opportunities to “just love people.”

 

Schnapps Snapshot

 

One thing I have never been called is a fuddy-duddy.  A party pooper.  In general I don’t rain on people’s parades.  But a recent phenomenon irks me a little.  And at the risk of looking like a goody two-shoes I want to bring attention to something that I just don’t understand.

Lately, my Facebook feed has been overrun with pictures of glasses and bottles.  Someone is letting me know they are enjoying a beverage.  How nice of them.  Interestingly, the beverages are almost never iced tea.  Or freezing cold milk.  Or kool-aid.  No.  It is usually alcohol of some sort.  My question is why?

Why do so many people feel the need to advertise they are drinking alcohol?

Now, understand, this is not an “anti-alcohol” post.  But since most of the people on my Facebook feed are Christians, I can’t help but wonder why the need to show the world what they are drinking?

Now let me confess: I do not drink.  Personal choice.  But I also don’t post pictures of whatever beverage I happen to be consuming.  So, I really am at a loss.  All I have are theories, so let me toss out a few.

1.  Some people just take pictures of anything and put them on Facebook.  We all know these people.  There is the kite you made with your kids.  Look, a sunset.  Hey, you took a picture of a stray cat and you wanted me to see it.  This would account for a few people’s beverage photos, but it still leaves many more.

2.  Some believe this makes us relevant. There is no bigger slam for church people right now than being labeled “irrelevant.”  We want the world around us to know we get it, that we are in the same boat.  I think some Christians believe that drinking alcohol makes them appear more accessible to the non-Christians around them.  I’m not sure if that is correct (my suspicion is it makes almost no difference) but perhaps those posting photos of margaritas are attempting to reach out.

3.  Some want to show that they aren’t controlled by the old rules.  Many of us grew up in very conservative churches where drinking alcohol was sinful.  As we have matured we have come to see the complete prohibition of alcohol as another sign of the “backwardness” of our predecessors.  We see Jesus drinking wine.  We are more liberal, more free.  More graceful.  And having a beer (and posting it online) is a symbol of our growth, our freedom.

4.  Some have bought the cultural idea that alcohol is necessary. This one scares me.  Several times lately I have read posts declaring something like, “that glass of wine at the end of this day can’t come soon enough.”  Now, perhaps that is just blowing off steam.  Maybe it is just mimicking what we see and hear in our alcohol saturated culture.  Or perhaps it is the beginning of dependence.  Not dependence in the addictive sense (although we all know that is a possibility).  But rather dependence on alcohol as some type of source of meaning or comfort.

5.  Alcohol symbolizes the “good life.”  We are relaxed.  We mountain bike and hunt and snowboard.  We have a ton of friends that we meet for coffee in the morning and drinks in the evening.  A pitcher of sangria shows that life is good.  But is any of that truly reflective of what Jesus meant by “life?”

Now, I am probably completely wrong.  And I am sure I will be informed kindly if I am.  But I am not yelling “SIN!”.  Nor am I calling for tee-totaling.  I am simply asking us to look at our motivations.  To think “why am I putting a snapshot of a mojito on my Instagram account?”  “Am I posting this because I want to look cool?”  I just wonder why the need to show our adult beverage to the world?  What are we trying to say?  And is it worth saying?

Marriage, Death, and Ministers

A month ago I had a completely new experience as a minister.  I performed a wedding and a funeral on the same weekend.  For the same family.  The mix of emotions, the joy and grief, was overwhelming for the family, and exhausting for me.  But, that is my job, my role, my gift in this community.

Over the years I have had the privilege of performing lots of weddings.  That’s what happens when you live in a town with three universities.  Young people come to school, find their partner, and I get to be a small part of that journey.  It is one of my truly favorite things to do.

I have also done my fair share of funerals.  Most of these have been older people.  Grandmothers and grandfathers.  But far too many have been young.  Babies or young adults cut down well before their time.  While it is always difficult, every funeral I am asked to perform is a great honor.

When I was seventeen and made the decision to become a minister, these moments were not what I imagined I would be doing.  I would preach and teach.  I would study.  I would guide people and give wise counsel.  I would lead a congregation in doing great works for the kingdom.

But, a lot of my time is spent on other things.  Hospital visits.  Planning weddings.  Driving people to the doctor.  Visiting with those who have lost a loved one.  Taking people to job interviews.  Listening to people about their health issues.  Giving rides to and from church events.  Working through people’s financial struggles.

I am a talker, but I spend much more time listening than I thought I would.  I am a doer.  But I spend much more time just sitting with people than I thought I would.  I am a dreamer.  But most of my days are spent dealing with the harsh realities of life, rather than dreaming grand visions for the church.

In our age of professionalism, I know many ministers who spend their days studying and preparing.  That is what their church has asked them to do.  To spend their time almost completely on lesson preparation and congregational direction.  If I am honest, there are moments when I am jealous.

But, I can’t imagine spending my time working for the church, and yet most of that time not spent with the church.  And not simply because part of being a minister is sharing life with people.  I think lessons and sermons and counsel suffer when these activities are not consistently a part of what I do.

Sermons are born out of hospital rooms as much as they are out of study.  Wisdom comes from walking with people through financial difficulties as much as it comes from a book.  Leading a church is as much about how we serve and love as it is what we say and the programs we start.

Too often I can forget what an honor it is for people to share the most intimate and difficult parts of their lives with me.  I am often invited in as the only non-family member.  I see the tears, hear the cries of anguish, witness the leaps of faith.  I am there as a symbol of God’s presence, but it is usually my heart and faith that are uplifted.

Whenever I have the opportunity to speak to a young man or woman who is studying to be a minister, I make sure and describe the job completely.  They need to know that along with the preaching and teaching there are late nights in hospital rooms and phone calls where you have truly have no good advice to share.  I do this not to discourage them. Nor do I tell them because it is the truth.  I do it so they can know the full beauty and amazing grace of the life they are choosing.

You Just Had To Be There

Iconic radio personality Casey Kasem is in the news this week.  His family is in court suing one another over his medical care.  His whereabouts appear to be a mystery to the judge.  It is apparently a gigantic mess.

This makes me sad because Casey Kasem actually played two parts in my growing up.  First, he was the voice of Shaggy on my favorite cartoon; Scooby-Doo.  But more importantly, he hosted American Top 40.  This show counted down the top 40 most popular songs in America each week.  In our town, the radio show aired on Sunday afternoons.  In fact, it was a Sunday afternoon in 1983 when I stumbled upon the show while sitting in the car listening to the radio as my mother did a little shopping.  It only took a couple of songs for my life to be altered.  This was my music!  Where had it been all my life?  American Top 40 immediately became a Sunday afternoon staple for me.

The show was sometimes my only chance to hear certain songs.  I would sit, listening with anticipation, my finger hovering above the record button on my Jambox.  When Casey announced the songs I wanted I would smash the button down and preserve the music on a Maxell tape.  Now I could hear the song over and over again, always with just a smidge of Casey’s voice before and after.  I treasured those tapes.

It is probably impossible to explain to kids today how much a radio show that simply counted down popular songs could mean.  In fact, it is one of many things I can’t possibly explain to my children.  The awe the first time I saw a video arcade game.  The excitement when we got a VCR.  My thought process after I watched the first episode of Miami Vice (only 6 days, 23 hours until that comes on again!)  Actually rooting for a network during Battle of the Network Stars.

The only way for my kids to understand these things would be to experience them.  And not just watching a clip on YouTube.  To somehow go back in time, live during that era, and really experience it.  I can tell them all I want, and they can nod their heads all day, but they still don’t get it.

I think that describes being a Christian.  We try over and over to explain to others why they should follow Jesus.  We talk about benefits, and love, and grace.  And we are amazed when people just flat turn us down on our offer.  Why would they not believe something that is so obviously wonderful?  Why would they choose not to believe the greatest thing ever?

Perhaps because Jesus isn’t something you believe in, He is a person you experience. My faith is not based on what others have told me or even what I have read, but on experiences I have had.

Most of us don’t get married because we are sold on the virtue of that commitment.  We don’t seek out just anyone willing so we can experience the ups and downs of marital life.  Rather, we get married because we fall in love.  It is our relationship with another person that leads us to the commitment of marriage.  Following Jesus is the same.  It is a relationship of experiences.  That can’t be summed up, tied in a neat ribbon, and handed out.

Following Jesus isn’t something I can adequately explain or describe (even though that is kinda my job).  I just can’t quite nail it down.  You have to experience it for yourself.

Too often we try to sell Jesus, Church, Christianity, etc… as if listing their merits will eventually convince someone.  The siren call of Jesus wasn’t “believe me” but rather “follow me.”  Perhaps rather than trying to convince someone to become a Christian, we should invite them to experience it.  Try some prayer.  Join me for some acts of service.  Attempt to love your wife the way Jesus would.  And see what happens.

So we shouldn’t be surprised when someone doesn’t “get it”.  Of course they don’t.  Just as they can’t possibly get what it is like to be married to my wife.  Or adequately understand the thrill of hearing “Mr. Roboto” come blaring out of my J during American Top 40.  You kinda have to be there.  You have to experience it for yourself.

 

P.S. This doesn’t just affect how we think about evangelism.  If our faith is truly a relationship we experience, that ought to radically change how we view other Christians and the Church.  Church isn’t a group of people who all believe the same thing, it is a group of people all married to the same person.  So we are all on a journey, all at different places in our experience of and relationship with Jesus.  This should make me more gracious towards my brothers and sisters in Christ since we are all at different spots on that journey.  And maybe I should stop trying so hard to get others to experience and see Jesus exactly as I do.