Tuesday, December 22, 2009
THOUGHTS
I started this blog because there were things that I had been thinking about for a while that I wanted to get out there. Posting my thoughts are purely for my own benefit with the hope that it might be meaningful to other people as screwed up as me. Now that I have posted a few of my essays I am curious what people are thinking about them (that is assuming people are reading them at all.) So I would really appreciate a little feedback. Thanks.
DOUBTING THOMAS: THE DISCIPLE- Part 2
But if faith and doubt are not mutually exclusive then what do we do with passages such as Hebrews 10?
Hebrews 10:21-23
21and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. 23Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.
For those who have a greater degree of assurance than I then an assurance of salvation may come more naturally. I admire and at times envy you. By no means should it be assumed by what I have written that the gift of faith or simply the openness of heart to trust in the invisible is a sign of weakness. It can make intimacy more achievable and obedience more convicting. But there are those, who like me, struggle with these issues. Can this passage and similar passages elsewhere have meaning for us? For those who don’t face doubt then this passage gives you direction as well for how to draw near to God, a central theme of Hebrews. Through an open heart and an assurance of the truth that you profess then you can approach God to experience intimacy and purpose. This is clear direction for all Christians, in fact. Open your heart to ministry of Christ with the confidence that comes from knowing Him. This is the way for all to experience intimacy and purpose.
But this formula, which is the dominant teaching of intimacy and ministry for the institutional church, is incomplete. This passage is neither that humanistic nor pessimistic. Experiencing the intimacy and calling of Christ isn’t about what we have to do to fix our sinful nature. This passage, if it is to be taken as a formula for intimacy and calling, has many more details which are much more significant. This passage, as is the rest of Hebrews, is about what Christ has done in order for us to draw near to Him. It is about how Christ compensates for our inadequacy to empower us to know Him. It is about how our sinful nature and personal limitations no longer defines us. This passage begins and ends with ministry of Christ. First we are assured that He is our Great High Priest and that He sits over the House of God. We are in His house as we draw near to Him. We are then instructed to approach God “with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith.” This means we acknowledge our limitations and fears in approaching God with confidence that God will not cast us aside because of those limitations. God then again takes over and cleanses us in body, mind, and spirit. We then hold to the hope we profess. We hold to the hope. Again, my doubt will not define my relationship with God. My hope in Him will. Actually, what truly defines my relationship with God is the very last part of this passage, “for he who promised is faithful.”
-PAUSE-
I could argue and defend why I feel scripture allows me room to doubt and the failings of modern institutional thinking all day. But I would rather share my story. Beyond struggling with doubt surrounding God, doubt is the wound that I have dealt with for most of my life in many areas of my life. Personal insecurities about how people see me, my ability to contribute to the world, and my ability to take care of my family financially and emotionally haunt me. I could go into much more detail about how these insecurities became such a part of who I am, but the point is that I don’t struggle with the intellectual questions about God because I am unwilling to hand that part over to God because of some elitist perspective I have or because I am so cynical and jaded. I struggle with intellectual questions about God because that is a part of me that God continues to work on as a part of my overall renewal and healing. But in the mean time the doubt is there and I can pretend that it isn’t or I can address it, deal with it, and potentially use it to know God in deeper ways and to offer some empathy to others who struggle with their own doubt.
Possibly the most important aspect of emerging is honesty. The traditional Christian view is to believe and act the way you are supposed to until it becomes real. There is a lot of value in this. The problem with this approach is that the Christian either hides a secret resentment toward God and the church or he or she assimilates into a Christian sub-culture that neither reflects who God is in his or her life nor honors God. The obvious problem with too much honesty is that the believer abandons righteousness or God all together. But when the authentic believer can move toward an honesty that is founded on integrity and faithfulness by dealing with real issues then something pretty amazing will happen. Here is where you will likely expect the steps that it will take to get to that place. There are two reasons I can’t do this for you. The first is that I am still figuring it out myself. The second is that intimacy and honesty are messy. I will suggest surrounding yourself with a healthy community, a spiritual mentor, and engage in a wide array of spiritual disciplines, but there is really no answer. But start with being okay with the fact that there is something wrong with the expectation to have it all figured out and see where that takes you.
Hebrews 10:21-23
21and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. 23Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.
For those who have a greater degree of assurance than I then an assurance of salvation may come more naturally. I admire and at times envy you. By no means should it be assumed by what I have written that the gift of faith or simply the openness of heart to trust in the invisible is a sign of weakness. It can make intimacy more achievable and obedience more convicting. But there are those, who like me, struggle with these issues. Can this passage and similar passages elsewhere have meaning for us? For those who don’t face doubt then this passage gives you direction as well for how to draw near to God, a central theme of Hebrews. Through an open heart and an assurance of the truth that you profess then you can approach God to experience intimacy and purpose. This is clear direction for all Christians, in fact. Open your heart to ministry of Christ with the confidence that comes from knowing Him. This is the way for all to experience intimacy and purpose.
But this formula, which is the dominant teaching of intimacy and ministry for the institutional church, is incomplete. This passage is neither that humanistic nor pessimistic. Experiencing the intimacy and calling of Christ isn’t about what we have to do to fix our sinful nature. This passage, if it is to be taken as a formula for intimacy and calling, has many more details which are much more significant. This passage, as is the rest of Hebrews, is about what Christ has done in order for us to draw near to Him. It is about how Christ compensates for our inadequacy to empower us to know Him. It is about how our sinful nature and personal limitations no longer defines us. This passage begins and ends with ministry of Christ. First we are assured that He is our Great High Priest and that He sits over the House of God. We are in His house as we draw near to Him. We are then instructed to approach God “with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith.” This means we acknowledge our limitations and fears in approaching God with confidence that God will not cast us aside because of those limitations. God then again takes over and cleanses us in body, mind, and spirit. We then hold to the hope we profess. We hold to the hope. Again, my doubt will not define my relationship with God. My hope in Him will. Actually, what truly defines my relationship with God is the very last part of this passage, “for he who promised is faithful.”
-PAUSE-
I could argue and defend why I feel scripture allows me room to doubt and the failings of modern institutional thinking all day. But I would rather share my story. Beyond struggling with doubt surrounding God, doubt is the wound that I have dealt with for most of my life in many areas of my life. Personal insecurities about how people see me, my ability to contribute to the world, and my ability to take care of my family financially and emotionally haunt me. I could go into much more detail about how these insecurities became such a part of who I am, but the point is that I don’t struggle with the intellectual questions about God because I am unwilling to hand that part over to God because of some elitist perspective I have or because I am so cynical and jaded. I struggle with intellectual questions about God because that is a part of me that God continues to work on as a part of my overall renewal and healing. But in the mean time the doubt is there and I can pretend that it isn’t or I can address it, deal with it, and potentially use it to know God in deeper ways and to offer some empathy to others who struggle with their own doubt.
Possibly the most important aspect of emerging is honesty. The traditional Christian view is to believe and act the way you are supposed to until it becomes real. There is a lot of value in this. The problem with this approach is that the Christian either hides a secret resentment toward God and the church or he or she assimilates into a Christian sub-culture that neither reflects who God is in his or her life nor honors God. The obvious problem with too much honesty is that the believer abandons righteousness or God all together. But when the authentic believer can move toward an honesty that is founded on integrity and faithfulness by dealing with real issues then something pretty amazing will happen. Here is where you will likely expect the steps that it will take to get to that place. There are two reasons I can’t do this for you. The first is that I am still figuring it out myself. The second is that intimacy and honesty are messy. I will suggest surrounding yourself with a healthy community, a spiritual mentor, and engage in a wide array of spiritual disciplines, but there is really no answer. But start with being okay with the fact that there is something wrong with the expectation to have it all figured out and see where that takes you.
Friday, December 18, 2009
DOUBTING THOMAS: THE DISCIPLE- Part I
“I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish that He didn’t trust me so much.” (Mother Teresa)
A few years ago the journal writings of Mother Teresa were released. Within the pages of her journal, Mother Teresa admitted that there were years of darkness where she did not feel God’s presence in her life. This confession surprised many who knew Mother Teresa personally as well as those who admired her from a far. In the personal writings, she confesses that despite being a cheery person she “lived in a state of deep and abiding spiritual pain.” Her darkness lasted for ten years initially. The darkness was eventually broken upon events surrounding the death of Pope Pius XII. The light, however, was short lived and she returned to a constant state of feeling disconnected from God after just five weeks. The darkness remained for the remainder of her life, nearly 40 years.
Not surprisingly, the media blitz surrounding the release of Mother Teresa’s personal writings gave ammunition to atheists and religious skeptics. But, more specifically to my own journey, it also caused frustration for believers. Many Christians seemed shocked that such a dedicated disciple could struggle with darkness, doubt, and spiritual frustration. People couldn’t understand how someone could live so faithfully, with such dedication, and accomplish so much for the Kingdom of God could also spend the majority of her life unsure of God’s presence. It was even occasionally suggested that perhaps in the midst of Mother Teresa’s service she neglected to care for her own spiritual needs. Perhaps her struggle, they would argue, was because of the spiritual discipleship she lacked. Regardless, for many her struggle will always be linked to her service with an air of criticism. As I reflect on what her life must have been like I can’t help but understand her frustration. She sought out new ground in ministry to some of the most cast aside people in the world. Her ministry was not to prepare them for ways that God would use them or work in the Kingdom, but to hold them as they would die. With little support from the church for the first part of her ministry she sat with the most broken, diseased, and lost people on the planet with nothing more to offer them than last hand accommodations as they passed from this life to the next. What catches my attention isn’t that she questioned God, who wouldn’t, but that despite her spiritual angst she served diligently with grace and faithfulness.
A couple of thousand years earlier the same struggle haunted another disciple’s legacy. He was, to the best our knowledge, a faithful servant of Christ for years. He walked side by side with Christ serving sacrificially. He ministered to people with enthusiasm and dedication. He likely performed great miracles along with the other disciples and suffered the same criticism and abuse as the other disciples as well. His love for Christ, as best as we can ascertain from scripture, was authentic and genuine. As a disciple, he was marked as one of Jesus’ inner circle of twelve. After Christ’s crucifixion he continued his allegiance to the ministry of Christ as he banded together with the other disciples to seek guidance and comfort in a time of confusion and mystery. And after the resurrection he went on to serve Christ and the Church the rest of his life with the same dedication as he did when Christ led them in person. But at a moment of intense personal spiritual pain and corporate spiritual confusion he dared to make a statement that labeled him a doubter for the rest of history. Thomas, now known as Doubting Thomas, stated, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it." (John 20:25) Based on this short story there is no reason to assume that Thomas struggled with doubt regularly. All we know is that on this one occasion, an occasion that was as reasonable as anyone to doubt God, Thomas simply stated that he needed to see it to believe it. Was Thomas displaying great faith with this statement? Probably not. But was he displaying a great lack of faith? Not necessarily. He simply was acknowledging his own limitations. Thomas hadn’t abandoned the Christian ministry. He hadn’t rejected Christ. He just was not emotionally, mentally, or spiritually capable at that moment to deal with believing that Christ was alive only to possibly later find out that he wasn’t. It is possible, however, that doubt was in fact an ongoing struggle for Thomas. Would that mean that Thomas was somehow less dedicated to Christ or that his service is any less meaningful? Thomas, perhaps, did constantly struggle with belief. He might very well have not been as spiritual or mystical as his disciple counterparts. But despite this possible struggle with doubt there would no reason to believe that he was less faithful in his service. His faith was simply demonstrated in a different way than it was for others. For Thomas, as it was for Mother Teresa, his faith was demonstrated in his ability to acknowledge his spiritual frustration and then put it aside when God called him to service.
Neither Mother Teresa’s nor Thomas’s ministry appear to be based on the usual foundations of ministry. Both Mother Teresa and Thomas had a strong religious heritage that gave them much guidance initially, but neither appears to have been highly religious people. Thomas, like all of the disciples, broke from the religious system of the day to follow Christ. Mother Teresa, while remaining connected to the church, broke from the traditional roles of the time to serve people intimately. Both Mother Teresa and Thomas appear to be spiritual in the sense they were very aware of a greater reality and were heavily influenced by that unseen reality, but neither was all that mystical or emotional in their response to how they related to God. Rather, they both approached ministry and personal relationship with God as centered in a higher calling, but lived in a natural world. Their accomplishments were outstanding, but possibly more meaningful to me was that their struggles were real. They refused to become jaded by their struggles and questions, but instead addressed them for what they were. They sought greater insight and possibly felt a very real sense of constant spiritual pain, but were never defined by their struggles, allowing Christ to be their reality.
Contemporary Christianity appears to have made doubt and faith mutually exclusive, suggesting that those who have struggles with believing in God or the meaning of truth lack faith. I disagree with this conclusion. As a person who struggles with intellectual questions about God, Jesus, truth, and evil, I still consider myself a disciple fully committed to Christ. Martin Luther King Jr. in his book Strength to Love discusses how there are two forms of belief: an intellectual form and one that is comes from the core of who we are. Intellectual knowledge would include knowing that God is good and present. To know in your mind who God is will give you confidence. But simply knowing him in your mind isn’t the type of knowledge that God desires for us to have of Him. He desires for us to know Him at the core of who we are. It means that a real knowledge of God is more than simply knowing the right answers. In the same way, struggling with God intellectually or sensationally is just as unimportant. Questions arise and doubts linger, but when we know God at the core of whom we are then we are still in communion with Him. Do I wish that I was given the gift of faith? Definitely! Do I believe that there is a deeper purpose for my struggle? Without a doubt (so to speak). But despite my longing for deeper intimacy with Christ or what role my doubt my play in the kingdom, it is who I am.
This part of me continues to frustrate me, but there was a time not too long ago when it was so frustrating to me that I often questioned my own salvation. The doubt surrounding my frustration was not unfounded. There were, in fact, many Christians around me and many sermons about what we should expect from a dynamic relationship with God that would blatantly challenge how I perceived my salvation. Christianity, as I experienced it for the majority of my life, didn’t leave much room for doubt, struggle, and sin. There was plenty of talk about these things and their role in spiritual formation, but were only supposed to be talked about in the past tense. As in, “I used to struggle with doubt until I let that go.” However, since emerging into a new faith paradigm I have been able to reconcile my struggles with doubt with a deep love for Christ and even an assurance of a deeper faith. As an emerging Christian I am free to experience God without a personal agenda for how it is to feel or what I am supposed to think. I am free to embrace the teachings of Paul realizing that God is renewing my mind and that God is making me a new creation. I don’t have to be discouraged by what the institution defines as a renewed mind or a new creation. I can be who I am while becoming who God is making me to be. I am free to interact with God authentically and honestly. And like two-thirds of the Psalms, I can express my struggles of God’s presence and providence, I can engage God with frustration and anger, and I can lament my spiritual angst all with the knowledge that I am in a deeper intimacy with God when I do so.
A few years ago the journal writings of Mother Teresa were released. Within the pages of her journal, Mother Teresa admitted that there were years of darkness where she did not feel God’s presence in her life. This confession surprised many who knew Mother Teresa personally as well as those who admired her from a far. In the personal writings, she confesses that despite being a cheery person she “lived in a state of deep and abiding spiritual pain.” Her darkness lasted for ten years initially. The darkness was eventually broken upon events surrounding the death of Pope Pius XII. The light, however, was short lived and she returned to a constant state of feeling disconnected from God after just five weeks. The darkness remained for the remainder of her life, nearly 40 years.
Not surprisingly, the media blitz surrounding the release of Mother Teresa’s personal writings gave ammunition to atheists and religious skeptics. But, more specifically to my own journey, it also caused frustration for believers. Many Christians seemed shocked that such a dedicated disciple could struggle with darkness, doubt, and spiritual frustration. People couldn’t understand how someone could live so faithfully, with such dedication, and accomplish so much for the Kingdom of God could also spend the majority of her life unsure of God’s presence. It was even occasionally suggested that perhaps in the midst of Mother Teresa’s service she neglected to care for her own spiritual needs. Perhaps her struggle, they would argue, was because of the spiritual discipleship she lacked. Regardless, for many her struggle will always be linked to her service with an air of criticism. As I reflect on what her life must have been like I can’t help but understand her frustration. She sought out new ground in ministry to some of the most cast aside people in the world. Her ministry was not to prepare them for ways that God would use them or work in the Kingdom, but to hold them as they would die. With little support from the church for the first part of her ministry she sat with the most broken, diseased, and lost people on the planet with nothing more to offer them than last hand accommodations as they passed from this life to the next. What catches my attention isn’t that she questioned God, who wouldn’t, but that despite her spiritual angst she served diligently with grace and faithfulness.
A couple of thousand years earlier the same struggle haunted another disciple’s legacy. He was, to the best our knowledge, a faithful servant of Christ for years. He walked side by side with Christ serving sacrificially. He ministered to people with enthusiasm and dedication. He likely performed great miracles along with the other disciples and suffered the same criticism and abuse as the other disciples as well. His love for Christ, as best as we can ascertain from scripture, was authentic and genuine. As a disciple, he was marked as one of Jesus’ inner circle of twelve. After Christ’s crucifixion he continued his allegiance to the ministry of Christ as he banded together with the other disciples to seek guidance and comfort in a time of confusion and mystery. And after the resurrection he went on to serve Christ and the Church the rest of his life with the same dedication as he did when Christ led them in person. But at a moment of intense personal spiritual pain and corporate spiritual confusion he dared to make a statement that labeled him a doubter for the rest of history. Thomas, now known as Doubting Thomas, stated, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it." (John 20:25) Based on this short story there is no reason to assume that Thomas struggled with doubt regularly. All we know is that on this one occasion, an occasion that was as reasonable as anyone to doubt God, Thomas simply stated that he needed to see it to believe it. Was Thomas displaying great faith with this statement? Probably not. But was he displaying a great lack of faith? Not necessarily. He simply was acknowledging his own limitations. Thomas hadn’t abandoned the Christian ministry. He hadn’t rejected Christ. He just was not emotionally, mentally, or spiritually capable at that moment to deal with believing that Christ was alive only to possibly later find out that he wasn’t. It is possible, however, that doubt was in fact an ongoing struggle for Thomas. Would that mean that Thomas was somehow less dedicated to Christ or that his service is any less meaningful? Thomas, perhaps, did constantly struggle with belief. He might very well have not been as spiritual or mystical as his disciple counterparts. But despite this possible struggle with doubt there would no reason to believe that he was less faithful in his service. His faith was simply demonstrated in a different way than it was for others. For Thomas, as it was for Mother Teresa, his faith was demonstrated in his ability to acknowledge his spiritual frustration and then put it aside when God called him to service.
Neither Mother Teresa’s nor Thomas’s ministry appear to be based on the usual foundations of ministry. Both Mother Teresa and Thomas had a strong religious heritage that gave them much guidance initially, but neither appears to have been highly religious people. Thomas, like all of the disciples, broke from the religious system of the day to follow Christ. Mother Teresa, while remaining connected to the church, broke from the traditional roles of the time to serve people intimately. Both Mother Teresa and Thomas appear to be spiritual in the sense they were very aware of a greater reality and were heavily influenced by that unseen reality, but neither was all that mystical or emotional in their response to how they related to God. Rather, they both approached ministry and personal relationship with God as centered in a higher calling, but lived in a natural world. Their accomplishments were outstanding, but possibly more meaningful to me was that their struggles were real. They refused to become jaded by their struggles and questions, but instead addressed them for what they were. They sought greater insight and possibly felt a very real sense of constant spiritual pain, but were never defined by their struggles, allowing Christ to be their reality.
Contemporary Christianity appears to have made doubt and faith mutually exclusive, suggesting that those who have struggles with believing in God or the meaning of truth lack faith. I disagree with this conclusion. As a person who struggles with intellectual questions about God, Jesus, truth, and evil, I still consider myself a disciple fully committed to Christ. Martin Luther King Jr. in his book Strength to Love discusses how there are two forms of belief: an intellectual form and one that is comes from the core of who we are. Intellectual knowledge would include knowing that God is good and present. To know in your mind who God is will give you confidence. But simply knowing him in your mind isn’t the type of knowledge that God desires for us to have of Him. He desires for us to know Him at the core of who we are. It means that a real knowledge of God is more than simply knowing the right answers. In the same way, struggling with God intellectually or sensationally is just as unimportant. Questions arise and doubts linger, but when we know God at the core of whom we are then we are still in communion with Him. Do I wish that I was given the gift of faith? Definitely! Do I believe that there is a deeper purpose for my struggle? Without a doubt (so to speak). But despite my longing for deeper intimacy with Christ or what role my doubt my play in the kingdom, it is who I am.
This part of me continues to frustrate me, but there was a time not too long ago when it was so frustrating to me that I often questioned my own salvation. The doubt surrounding my frustration was not unfounded. There were, in fact, many Christians around me and many sermons about what we should expect from a dynamic relationship with God that would blatantly challenge how I perceived my salvation. Christianity, as I experienced it for the majority of my life, didn’t leave much room for doubt, struggle, and sin. There was plenty of talk about these things and their role in spiritual formation, but were only supposed to be talked about in the past tense. As in, “I used to struggle with doubt until I let that go.” However, since emerging into a new faith paradigm I have been able to reconcile my struggles with doubt with a deep love for Christ and even an assurance of a deeper faith. As an emerging Christian I am free to experience God without a personal agenda for how it is to feel or what I am supposed to think. I am free to embrace the teachings of Paul realizing that God is renewing my mind and that God is making me a new creation. I don’t have to be discouraged by what the institution defines as a renewed mind or a new creation. I can be who I am while becoming who God is making me to be. I am free to interact with God authentically and honestly. And like two-thirds of the Psalms, I can express my struggles of God’s presence and providence, I can engage God with frustration and anger, and I can lament my spiritual angst all with the knowledge that I am in a deeper intimacy with God when I do so.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A RECOVERING MINISTER- Part 2
I believe one of the reasons I struggle with faith versus desire is that I have always been taught it was one or the other. There were always principles or steps to follow. I was taught a Christian looks like “x”. I was never given room to wrestle with God. As I understood faith development previously, struggle is bad. We are supposed to avoid or at least overcome struggle. Christian maturity within the institution means that we no longer struggle with sin, doubt, and frustration. We are victorious. There are two problems with this. First, it’s wrong. We are to engage in struggle, not avoid it. Secondly, struggle is inevitable. Regardless of how many sermons and books are written about how to overcome sin and struggle, steps to holy living, or victory in Jesus people are going to continue to struggle with these issues. In fact, as we develop in our faith, even if everything goes just right, we will be challenged with new areas of sin. That is why Paul was able to say, despite his obvious righteousness, that he considered himself the chief of sinners. When the institution competes with other institutions by giving the easiest and most desirable answers to life then people will (and incidentally have) become frustrated with the church. Additionally, I believed that to express any concern for my relationship with Christ that went past what I needed to repent of was received as heresy. Intimacy is hard. Developing a relationship is hard. It doesn’t matter if you are talking about developing intimacy with God or your spouse or your kids. The greatest value of intimacy is in that it is hard. Religion doesn’t allow for this type of frustration. It allows for you to admit your inadequacies, but that is all. Our identity is not directly linked to what we end up looking like as a Christian, but our existential understanding of who Christ is in us. It is not always what we wish it would be and there will be times we wish we could cut and run, but it is in working through these struggles we develop intimacy and find something amazing. That doesn’t mean just sticking it out, but by actively engaging God in the process of our reconciliation.
Sin, as it is usually defined, causes guilt and frustration that neither helps us to grow nor bring glory to God. When we decide it is time to start getting back on track we first feel shame and ask for forgiveness repeatedly believing we have to convince God to offer it again to us. Then we realized how old covenant this is. So we earnestly asked for forgiveness, repent, and strived to allow God to reveal how He wants us to grow. What has marked contemporary Christianity, my own journey included, is a dysfunctional system which defines a relationship with God by the willingness to feel like a sinner. That doesn’t mean repentance isn’t needed or that an emotional experience isn’t called for, but it does mean we are not called to continue to seek forgiveness as if it is something we must earn, but to live in our new identity which is marked by intimacy and purpose. Don’t misunderstand what I am saying about forgiveness though. Asking for forgiveness is critically important when we betray our Father. When my kids are openly defiant toward me I expect some form of asking for forgiveness, but it is not because my love for them is dependent on it nor is our relationship. Asking for forgiveness situates us back into an intimate relationship. It is a healthy dynamic of repentance. But it is a restored relationship and greater obedience I long for, not that my sons feel guilty about what they have done. That is just sadistic. We are a new creation. We are seen as holy in the eyes of God. And we are being sanctified. We are in the process of becoming a new creation. We are seen as being holy in the eyes of God. These ideas don’t contradict each other. They speak to the intricacies of intimate relationships. But contemporary faith, even among those that speak often of sanctification, approach a bond with God as if all there was is justification. Something better is out there. All that is required is that we respond.
My ministry, at the professional and interpersonal level was marked by either simply dealing with the sin in people’s lives or by dismissing the sin in favor of focusing simply on knowing Jesus, depending on where I was with my own inner struggle. I would attempt to guide people, namely youth and young adults, into the paradigm of Christian maturity that served the institution more than the individual. I believed it served the individual at the time because that is how, in fact, I perceived Christian maturity. But it was more honestly about perpetuating an institutional ideal of happy, well adjusted individuals who were willing and able to serve. I was attempting to meet their needs, but I was more often than not meeting their wants. In order to keep the church, Christianity, and even Christ in a favorable light I would reiterate the same garbage over and over. I minimized and discouraged the struggle and highlighted the sin. And at all costs I promoted the Kingdom of God through conquest. As I have moved to new understanding of intimacy and purpose I am beginning to see ministry in new ways. It is a process of partnering with God and one another in the journey. It is promoting righteousness, but holding the ultimate goal as reconciliation. Ministry is about promoting social and community justice and promoting virtue, but it is not my role to manipulate or control people to forming them in my image of holiness. Ministry is walking with the person in whatever way I am called to walk with him or her without a personal agenda. I pray that as I develop as a minister I embrace a truer message of Christ. One where the minister is a humble ambassador using what gifts and talents God so determines I should use in the spirit of love and understanding without judgment or personal agenda.
Sin, as it is usually defined, causes guilt and frustration that neither helps us to grow nor bring glory to God. When we decide it is time to start getting back on track we first feel shame and ask for forgiveness repeatedly believing we have to convince God to offer it again to us. Then we realized how old covenant this is. So we earnestly asked for forgiveness, repent, and strived to allow God to reveal how He wants us to grow. What has marked contemporary Christianity, my own journey included, is a dysfunctional system which defines a relationship with God by the willingness to feel like a sinner. That doesn’t mean repentance isn’t needed or that an emotional experience isn’t called for, but it does mean we are not called to continue to seek forgiveness as if it is something we must earn, but to live in our new identity which is marked by intimacy and purpose. Don’t misunderstand what I am saying about forgiveness though. Asking for forgiveness is critically important when we betray our Father. When my kids are openly defiant toward me I expect some form of asking for forgiveness, but it is not because my love for them is dependent on it nor is our relationship. Asking for forgiveness situates us back into an intimate relationship. It is a healthy dynamic of repentance. But it is a restored relationship and greater obedience I long for, not that my sons feel guilty about what they have done. That is just sadistic. We are a new creation. We are seen as holy in the eyes of God. And we are being sanctified. We are in the process of becoming a new creation. We are seen as being holy in the eyes of God. These ideas don’t contradict each other. They speak to the intricacies of intimate relationships. But contemporary faith, even among those that speak often of sanctification, approach a bond with God as if all there was is justification. Something better is out there. All that is required is that we respond.
My ministry, at the professional and interpersonal level was marked by either simply dealing with the sin in people’s lives or by dismissing the sin in favor of focusing simply on knowing Jesus, depending on where I was with my own inner struggle. I would attempt to guide people, namely youth and young adults, into the paradigm of Christian maturity that served the institution more than the individual. I believed it served the individual at the time because that is how, in fact, I perceived Christian maturity. But it was more honestly about perpetuating an institutional ideal of happy, well adjusted individuals who were willing and able to serve. I was attempting to meet their needs, but I was more often than not meeting their wants. In order to keep the church, Christianity, and even Christ in a favorable light I would reiterate the same garbage over and over. I minimized and discouraged the struggle and highlighted the sin. And at all costs I promoted the Kingdom of God through conquest. As I have moved to new understanding of intimacy and purpose I am beginning to see ministry in new ways. It is a process of partnering with God and one another in the journey. It is promoting righteousness, but holding the ultimate goal as reconciliation. Ministry is about promoting social and community justice and promoting virtue, but it is not my role to manipulate or control people to forming them in my image of holiness. Ministry is walking with the person in whatever way I am called to walk with him or her without a personal agenda. I pray that as I develop as a minister I embrace a truer message of Christ. One where the minister is a humble ambassador using what gifts and talents God so determines I should use in the spirit of love and understanding without judgment or personal agenda.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A RECOVERING MINISTER- Part 1
“We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope.” (Martin Luther King)
A few years ago I taught a study on the Book of Hebrews at the church where I was working. I spent six months preparing for the study, an entire year on the study with the college group, and an additional year after the class studying the book. Meaning I spent almost three years reading and studying the same set of scripture exclusively. By no means do I feel that the time that I spent on this book qualifies me as an expert, but it does give me the right to say that I was enthusiastic about it. I was drawn into the book like no other book I had ever studied. It resonated with my journey and gave me direction for many of the struggles I was dealing with personally. The study helped me to clarify many of my frustrations with institutionalism and religion. I was able to easily pull stories from throughout my life as examples for the various lessons, but in the process of pulling stories I was also able to see how relevant the Book of Hebrews is to today’s Church. From very early in the book I knew how significant the study would be for me. In Chapter 2 of Hebrews, for example, the author explicates the new identity we have in Christ.
Hebrews 2
1We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away. 2For if the message spoken by angels was binding, and every violation and disobedience received its just punishment, 3how shall we escape if we ignore such a great salvation? This salvation, which was first announced by the Lord, was confirmed to us by those who heard him. 4God also testified to it by signs, wonders and various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.
5It is not to angels that he has subjected the world to come, about which we are speaking. 6But there is a place where someone has testified: "What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? 7You made him a little lower than the angels; you crowned him with glory and honor 8and put everything under his feet."
In putting everything under him, God left nothing that is not subject to him. Yet at present we do not see everything subject to him. 9But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.
10In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering. 11Both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers. 12He says, "I will declare your name to my brothers; in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises." 13And again, “I will put my trust in him." And again he says, "Here am I, and the children God has given me."
14Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— 15and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. 16For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants. 17For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. 18Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.
Three of the many things that we can learn from this passage are: (1) there is an ideal of what we should be. God created man to have control over all things and to live in perfect unity with Him. (2) There is an actual human condition. Through sin, man entered into a system of defeat instead of co-leadership with God. And (3) how actual can be changed to ideal. Jesus came to make man what he was meant to be. In short: drawing near to God overcomes sin. Experiencing co-leadership with God is not the same thing as receiving financial or situational blessings. And drawing near to God does not mean an enthusiastic approach toward Christianity. It simply means that the reconciliation ministry of Christ allows us to approach God in order for Him to use us as He wills. This passage in no way discredits the significance of sin in our lives. We are rescued from Sin and will continue to struggle with sin. But it does mean sin no longer is the central theme is the ministry of Christ, but rather reconciliation. Sin (as a behavior) is no longer an issue of judgment by which we define ourselves and our relationship with Christ. I mention this because since the Reformation there has been a growing paradigm within the church of the limitations of humanity. Christ, as He is often portrayed, simply came because there is nothing good in man. We were saved from religion, the pressure of constantly trying to please God, and ourselves, but humanity is still made in God image. As Christians we recognize that we were lost, but not ruined. In fact, our sinful nature has potential to assist us in our relationship with God in two ways. First, sin, as in the behaviors and thoughts that we have, can be a sign of a deeper separation from God. In other words, sin can be the residue of loneliness, pride, fear, and ignorance. And even though sin by itself should not be the defining issue of our relationship with God, it is a barrier to God. Drawing near to God doesn’t mean stopping sin, but reconciling a relationship with Christ. But for this to happen, sin often has to be dealt with. But because we are incapable of drawing near to God on our own, we must rely on Christ to empower us to overcome for the sole purpose of drawing near to God. In other words (yet again), dealing with sin in our lives is a partnership with God. It is both God restoring us and God empowering us to become disciplined, but either way it is God doing the work. Besides, the amount of sin in your life is an indication of how close you have drawn near to God. The closer you are the less you will sin naturally. Perfection, as it is promised to us as faithful disciples, then isn’t about stopping sin, but is something that signifies our completion in Christ.
What does this have to do with my own journey and, as the title of the chapter denotes, becoming a recovering minister? Let me first share one of the on-going struggles that I face. One of the cornerstones of a relationship with God is faith. It relates to living faithfully day by day with where ever God puts you. It is trusting that God has a plan for your life and that even when you don’t feel a sense of excitement about your walk, you can walk in peace and contentment knowing every day is an opportunity for God regardless of the circumstances. It is about accepting that God will use you how and when He chooses, but that ultimately our true calling is obedience and intimacy. Another dynamic of a relationship with Christ is desire. This is the part of you which longs for an adventure with God. This is the part that calls you to do things that no responsible person would ever do. This dynamic of a relationship with God is living on the edge. There is an excitement in the unexpected adventure. The desire to serve God with passion and to live life “to the fullest” pulls on the hearts of many followers. But these two things often contradict each other. Living faithfully and living passionately often challenge each other. Typically the answer to this contradiction is something along the lines of balance. But I believe understanding our destiny and even our identity is going to be intricately linked to this struggle. Learning how we are to be both faithful and passionate is a natural tension. A tension that is necessary in identity development. Human development occurs as we learn the strategies needed to reconcile new challenges and tensions. My experiences so far in Christianity have been about believing what I am supposed to believe and doing what I supposed to be doing. But that is not the path toward healthy development. It is about struggling with opposing ideologies and conflicting perceptions until we are able to assimilate what we are learning into our lives. The development process at any stage or with any issue will likely reoccur, but it is the conflict which produces growth. As we as Christians grow we must rely on Christ to ultimately to the work, but as we allow Him to work we must engage fully with the struggles we face in the knowledge that reconciling the struggle (reconcile is not the same thing necessarily as resolving by the way) producing maturity.
Throughout my entire Christian experience I was under the understanding that the road to perfection was about getting my life together. Jesus was without sin, I was supposed to be like Christ, therefore, when I am without sin then I too will be like Christ. The burden for a sinless life became the focus of my walk and my ministry. I used a lot of language about grace and mercy and I said that it was all about a relationship with Christ, but my actions reflected a theology that was much more similar to Old Testament teachings than anything that Jesus taught. As I studied this idea of perfection more in Hebrews I came to realize that perfection has nothing to do with our behavior. We are told in scripture that Jesus was on a path toward perfection even though he was without sin. Jesus’ road to perfection meant the road to Calvary. He was being prepared throughout His life and ministry to take on the redemptive work ahead of Him. His entire life was His ministry, but it was also the journey which was designed to prepare Him and us for the cross. He would, as Hebrews teaches, become perfect when His destiny was fulfilled. Perfect, as it is explained in Hebrews, is not when we somehow rid ourselves of sin, but when we have fulfilled our destiny. Sin often is an obstacle in this journey, but overcoming sin isn’t the goal. And realizing our destiny is a journey with merit in and of itself. In fact, the journey is the destiny. Our destiny is to be who God calls us to be, but because we are called to be different things along the journey then our “calling” is to be who God designed us to be. Our destiny is to mature in our faith, to face tensions and overcome them, and to live faithfully and to seek passion. We obtain perfection when we embrace struggles and partner with God to overcome them to better understand who we are in Christ. When I came to see that my calling was to be perfect and that perfect simply meant becoming who God has created me then I realized for possibly the first time that Christianity was a bigger obstacle to Christ for me than any sin I ever struggled with at any point in my life. The doctrine of the institution might support enthusiasm or it might give me opportunities for service, or it might comfort me times of crisis, but the institution (the institutional paradigm on the church, not the church itself) would never nurture my development. People mature all the time in the church, but often the institution is battling against the need for people to struggle making the church a barrier as often as it makes it a resource.
A few years ago I taught a study on the Book of Hebrews at the church where I was working. I spent six months preparing for the study, an entire year on the study with the college group, and an additional year after the class studying the book. Meaning I spent almost three years reading and studying the same set of scripture exclusively. By no means do I feel that the time that I spent on this book qualifies me as an expert, but it does give me the right to say that I was enthusiastic about it. I was drawn into the book like no other book I had ever studied. It resonated with my journey and gave me direction for many of the struggles I was dealing with personally. The study helped me to clarify many of my frustrations with institutionalism and religion. I was able to easily pull stories from throughout my life as examples for the various lessons, but in the process of pulling stories I was also able to see how relevant the Book of Hebrews is to today’s Church. From very early in the book I knew how significant the study would be for me. In Chapter 2 of Hebrews, for example, the author explicates the new identity we have in Christ.
Hebrews 2
1We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away. 2For if the message spoken by angels was binding, and every violation and disobedience received its just punishment, 3how shall we escape if we ignore such a great salvation? This salvation, which was first announced by the Lord, was confirmed to us by those who heard him. 4God also testified to it by signs, wonders and various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.
5It is not to angels that he has subjected the world to come, about which we are speaking. 6But there is a place where someone has testified: "What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? 7You made him a little lower than the angels; you crowned him with glory and honor 8and put everything under his feet."
In putting everything under him, God left nothing that is not subject to him. Yet at present we do not see everything subject to him. 9But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.
10In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering. 11Both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers. 12He says, "I will declare your name to my brothers; in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises." 13And again, “I will put my trust in him." And again he says, "Here am I, and the children God has given me."
14Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— 15and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. 16For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants. 17For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. 18Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.
Three of the many things that we can learn from this passage are: (1) there is an ideal of what we should be. God created man to have control over all things and to live in perfect unity with Him. (2) There is an actual human condition. Through sin, man entered into a system of defeat instead of co-leadership with God. And (3) how actual can be changed to ideal. Jesus came to make man what he was meant to be. In short: drawing near to God overcomes sin. Experiencing co-leadership with God is not the same thing as receiving financial or situational blessings. And drawing near to God does not mean an enthusiastic approach toward Christianity. It simply means that the reconciliation ministry of Christ allows us to approach God in order for Him to use us as He wills. This passage in no way discredits the significance of sin in our lives. We are rescued from Sin and will continue to struggle with sin. But it does mean sin no longer is the central theme is the ministry of Christ, but rather reconciliation. Sin (as a behavior) is no longer an issue of judgment by which we define ourselves and our relationship with Christ. I mention this because since the Reformation there has been a growing paradigm within the church of the limitations of humanity. Christ, as He is often portrayed, simply came because there is nothing good in man. We were saved from religion, the pressure of constantly trying to please God, and ourselves, but humanity is still made in God image. As Christians we recognize that we were lost, but not ruined. In fact, our sinful nature has potential to assist us in our relationship with God in two ways. First, sin, as in the behaviors and thoughts that we have, can be a sign of a deeper separation from God. In other words, sin can be the residue of loneliness, pride, fear, and ignorance. And even though sin by itself should not be the defining issue of our relationship with God, it is a barrier to God. Drawing near to God doesn’t mean stopping sin, but reconciling a relationship with Christ. But for this to happen, sin often has to be dealt with. But because we are incapable of drawing near to God on our own, we must rely on Christ to empower us to overcome for the sole purpose of drawing near to God. In other words (yet again), dealing with sin in our lives is a partnership with God. It is both God restoring us and God empowering us to become disciplined, but either way it is God doing the work. Besides, the amount of sin in your life is an indication of how close you have drawn near to God. The closer you are the less you will sin naturally. Perfection, as it is promised to us as faithful disciples, then isn’t about stopping sin, but is something that signifies our completion in Christ.
What does this have to do with my own journey and, as the title of the chapter denotes, becoming a recovering minister? Let me first share one of the on-going struggles that I face. One of the cornerstones of a relationship with God is faith. It relates to living faithfully day by day with where ever God puts you. It is trusting that God has a plan for your life and that even when you don’t feel a sense of excitement about your walk, you can walk in peace and contentment knowing every day is an opportunity for God regardless of the circumstances. It is about accepting that God will use you how and when He chooses, but that ultimately our true calling is obedience and intimacy. Another dynamic of a relationship with Christ is desire. This is the part of you which longs for an adventure with God. This is the part that calls you to do things that no responsible person would ever do. This dynamic of a relationship with God is living on the edge. There is an excitement in the unexpected adventure. The desire to serve God with passion and to live life “to the fullest” pulls on the hearts of many followers. But these two things often contradict each other. Living faithfully and living passionately often challenge each other. Typically the answer to this contradiction is something along the lines of balance. But I believe understanding our destiny and even our identity is going to be intricately linked to this struggle. Learning how we are to be both faithful and passionate is a natural tension. A tension that is necessary in identity development. Human development occurs as we learn the strategies needed to reconcile new challenges and tensions. My experiences so far in Christianity have been about believing what I am supposed to believe and doing what I supposed to be doing. But that is not the path toward healthy development. It is about struggling with opposing ideologies and conflicting perceptions until we are able to assimilate what we are learning into our lives. The development process at any stage or with any issue will likely reoccur, but it is the conflict which produces growth. As we as Christians grow we must rely on Christ to ultimately to the work, but as we allow Him to work we must engage fully with the struggles we face in the knowledge that reconciling the struggle (reconcile is not the same thing necessarily as resolving by the way) producing maturity.
Throughout my entire Christian experience I was under the understanding that the road to perfection was about getting my life together. Jesus was without sin, I was supposed to be like Christ, therefore, when I am without sin then I too will be like Christ. The burden for a sinless life became the focus of my walk and my ministry. I used a lot of language about grace and mercy and I said that it was all about a relationship with Christ, but my actions reflected a theology that was much more similar to Old Testament teachings than anything that Jesus taught. As I studied this idea of perfection more in Hebrews I came to realize that perfection has nothing to do with our behavior. We are told in scripture that Jesus was on a path toward perfection even though he was without sin. Jesus’ road to perfection meant the road to Calvary. He was being prepared throughout His life and ministry to take on the redemptive work ahead of Him. His entire life was His ministry, but it was also the journey which was designed to prepare Him and us for the cross. He would, as Hebrews teaches, become perfect when His destiny was fulfilled. Perfect, as it is explained in Hebrews, is not when we somehow rid ourselves of sin, but when we have fulfilled our destiny. Sin often is an obstacle in this journey, but overcoming sin isn’t the goal. And realizing our destiny is a journey with merit in and of itself. In fact, the journey is the destiny. Our destiny is to be who God calls us to be, but because we are called to be different things along the journey then our “calling” is to be who God designed us to be. Our destiny is to mature in our faith, to face tensions and overcome them, and to live faithfully and to seek passion. We obtain perfection when we embrace struggles and partner with God to overcome them to better understand who we are in Christ. When I came to see that my calling was to be perfect and that perfect simply meant becoming who God has created me then I realized for possibly the first time that Christianity was a bigger obstacle to Christ for me than any sin I ever struggled with at any point in my life. The doctrine of the institution might support enthusiasm or it might give me opportunities for service, or it might comfort me times of crisis, but the institution (the institutional paradigm on the church, not the church itself) would never nurture my development. People mature all the time in the church, but often the institution is battling against the need for people to struggle making the church a barrier as often as it makes it a resource.
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