Army of Priests

This is an item from my journal written several years ago.

I captured a thought last night that I could be like a glass in a Champaign pyramid; that I could pour love into the people around me such that they begin to over flow and pour that love into the people around them.

This is what Christian love is supposed to be like. It’s about paying it forward – doing good things for people and telling them to repay you by spreading your kindness to someone else. This is a truly powerful concept. This is how you can change the world.

I think it is often awkward to go out of your way to go out of your way to help someone. For example, to ring someone when you don’t have anything in particular to talk about, you just want them to know that people do think of them when they’re out of sight.

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The words of Michael Yaconelli (I recorded the words a long time ago but unfortunately not their source):

The most critical issue facing Christians today is not abortion, pornography, the disintegration of the family, moral absolutes, MTV, drugs, racism, sexuality, or school prayer. The critical issue today is dullness. We have lost our astonishment. The Good News is no longer good news, it is okay news. Christianity is no longer life changing, it is life enhancing. Jesus doesn’t change people into wild-eyed radicals anymore, He changes them into ‘nice people.’…

What happened to radical Christianity, the un-nice brand of Christianity that turned the world upside-down? What happened to the category-smashing, life-threatening, anti-institutional gospel that spread through the first century like wildfire and was considered (by those in power) dangerous? What happened to the kind of Christians whose hearts were on fire, who had no fear, who spoke the truth no matter what the consequence, who made the world uncomfortable, who were willing to follow Jesus wherever He went? What happened to the kind of Christians who were filled with passion and gratitude, and who every day were unable to get over the grace of God?

I’m ready for a Christianity that ‘ruins’ my life, that captures my heart, and makes me uncomfortable. I want to be filled with an astonishment which is so captivating that I am considered wild and unpredictable and … well … dangerous. Yes, I want to be ‘dangerous’ to a dull and boring religion. I want a faith that is considered ‘dangerous’ by our predictable and monotonous culture.

How dare God love me.

We have a system going in this world where we love the people who provide value (money, good laughs, etc) and hate those that do not (pedophiles, murderers, etc). For the most part, it works well for us. It gives us a platform for pride by comparing ourselves with the less loved, and opportunity for advancement as though we are in control.

I recently read a news article about bullying where children said that one boy deserved the constant teasing he received because he choose to read books during his lunch break. This is disgusting to us yet how often do we withhold our love for people because of such simple things as the colour of their skin, the fact they are annoying, because they swear or drink and they live on the streets. Yet we are so keen to love people who are popular, rich, funny, intelligent, and who can give us things in return. The golden rule of society: only love when it is easy and there is a reward.

We can go about our lives without ever suffering for someone who will not return our favour. We can hide the ugly parts of our personality and past as people do not care about who we are – only what we do. Because we are respected due to instrumental rather than intrinsic value we can pretend that we are not broken as long as we are useful.

But then Jesus came and upset all that. He went straight to the most undesirable, useless members of society and showed them a love that is greater than what we reserve for even the most popular members of society. It upset the system.

Jesus didn’t love people for what they could do, how they dressed, or what their status was. He loved the unlovable people and he extends the same love to all of us. This is scandalous, for we are of no value to God. He does not need us to help him run the universe, or to make him feel good from our praise, or to do his will. He’s bigger than we are! If anything we are like an ache in his side. Forever hurting one another and raping this world. We should, if things were fair, be recipients of God’s wrath rather than his love.

But God is not fair. He loves us. This causes a lot of trouble because it undermines the fundamental assumption of our system – that people are of value solely for what they do. God loves us for who we are. We can’t have this, as it exposes us all for wretched, sinful, and self-absorbed brats competing for love that we have already had since birth.

We can’t have this. Our pride will not let us be exposed as such.

So we killed God. The only truly innocent man, who did nothing but love, disturbed our pride in such a way that we had to kill Him. Even more, we needed to brake Him. The system required that He hated us, so we had to make Him hate us. If we could then we would prove His love was conditional, and thus the world could go on. So we tested His limits and poured out our greatest wrath upon the most innocent man – the world’s worst evil.

But our plan was foiled. For on the cross Jesus did not choose to hate us, but instead offered us forgiveness. Love overcame evil. It persisted through the greatest darkness and showed itself to be greater, much greater, than we had imagined.

What a scandal! That Jesus could love men even as they drove nails into His hands! That when we mocked Him, and spat on Him, He still loved us. It shattered for all our assumption that love must be earned and exposed us for fools.

We couldn’t break God, but He broke us. With all our attempts to prove our instrumental worth stripped bare we are left with nothing. We are wretched. We are sinners. We are evil.

But God still loves us!

He loves us regardless of social status, popularity, income, the colour of our skin, the thoughts we have, or the sins we have committed. Nothing we do can make Him love us more or less.

Also, He loves everyone else the same way. Jesus set up a new system for living. One where love cannot be earned, but must be given. It is the kingdom of the loved unlovables. Its citizens no longer try to bolster their image and instrumental value, but they’ll strain themselves to love others. It is the ultimate alternative to the current order, and its existence serves to criticise that order and call its members to repentance.

It’s scandalous. We Christians belong to a reality of freely given yet utterly undeserved love. It appears so foolish to this world that they will persecute us, jail us, beat us, scorn us, and kill us but we will still love them. As in the example of Christ our love with outlast their evil, revealing their inadequacy, and showing them a new way of life.

This is Christianity: a broken and unlovable people who extend grace so freely that they world must stop them at any cost. Love is a scandal.

The other day I was contemplating the degree of our smallness compared to the size of our problems. Global Poverty is a huge problem, and despite all the aid organisations it is a long way from being fixed. Greed is too strong.

No matter how many resolutions are ratified by governments or how strongly worded we write the acts of the Geneva convention torture will remain common in our world.

No matter how much love we pour on people they often just don’t seem to change. Drug addictions seem too strong, and biter thoughts to common, to defeat. There doesn’t seem like much we can do.

Heck, I struggle even to have enough discipline in my own life to maintain the time with God that I would like to, or exercise enough, or stop some repeated sin. If I don’t even have power over myself how can I help fight the problems in our world?

But that’s why we pray. Because we can’t save ourselves. Only God can.

I can give someone food, only God can solve their hunger. I can show someone love but only God can heal their pain.

Anything I do is invariably futile. Yet I do it anyway. Why? Because I believe God can make a difference.

My actions are statements of faith. They are futile in themselves but they represent my daring belief (or lack thereof) in God.

So when I give someone bread it is my act of prayer for God to solve their hunger. When I love someone it’s because I believe God can heal their pain.

I’m learning to live my life as a prayer.

I am convinced that the Cross of Christ is the solution to all the decay in this world. I don’t think it is just the means by which we can escape the earth to the safety of heaven whilst it descends into hell. I think Jesus died to redeem us, to fix us, to cleanse us from sin, heal us from pain, fill us with love, and make us what we were made for – beings that glorify God. This is the “missio dei” or “the mission of God”.

As part of this I have moved beyond thinking of our role as Christians as being merely that of evangelism – to convert people from one idea to another; and have come rather to think of us as participating in what is known as “Kingdom Mission” – the transformation of our lives, our communities, and our worship in real, meaningful ways. This is what being missional is all about and why I have the “friend of missional” link on the side of my blog.

In thinking about Kingdom Mission I have found it helpful to split it into two parts: being in places where it is dark and then bringing light to these places. Contextual and Incarnational Living.

Contextual Living

I have written on this before. Contextual living is nothing more than “being there”. It’s the first rule of evangelism: show up.

I can’t remember where I saw it but I once read a quote that goes: “You can’t change what you don’t see.” It’s terribly true. There is so much pain, loneliness, hopelessness and evil in this world. But it’s ‘out there’. It’s not sitting where it is comfortable for you to reach it. It’s very tempting to sit back and church and wait for God to dump an easy opportunity right in front of us that is nice and easy and doesn’t require any dear grace on our part. In fact, this is what charity does. Charity is great but it is dangerous – it allows us the ability to feel good about ourselves when really we have placed a proxy between us and the people who need us. We must invest with more than money, relationships are needed also.

I grew up in the religious ghetto. I was born into a Christian Cult called Revival Centres (aka Christian Assemblies). They were extremely wary about any contact with anyone outside the church. Fortunately, my parents moved on whilst I was still quite young and we started going to AOG churches. Now there is a very strange thing about growing up in Church – it separates you entirely from the culture around you.

See, when you get heavily involved in Church you end up devoting all your time to Christian activities. I would go to church on Sunday, Have prayer on Monday, Youth Leadership team meeting on Tuesday, Bible Study on Wednesday, might take Thursday and Friday off, and have Youth on Saturday. Many Christians never have contact with non-Christians, and if they do they rarely develop deep, meaningful relationships.

Church’s would do much better if rather than engaging their congregations in endless spiritual activity they cut back and encouraged them to spend one day a week spending time in a ’3rd place’ with non-Christians. 3rd places are where people play. A 1st place is somewhere like home, a 2nd place is work, a 3rd place is a bar or sports field. People relax and open up in 3rd places. It’s where relationships are formed.

We have to be very intentional about meeting darkness head on in this world. Weather that means going next door to confront the loneliness in our suburbs or heading to Africa to fight starvation amongst children. Do anything short of sin to get where it hurts in people’s lives. If that means swearing then swear. If it means disruption then disrupt. If it means giving then give. God came all the way across the universe to live in our gutters and our suffering and the result was our eternity.

Incarnational Living

Then once we are in dark places it is our duty to bring light to those places. To transform these places and drag them into the kingdom of God. Go into darkness and bring with you the light. Go and Do. Heal pain, show love, teach truth. This is where we get to be Jesus and introduce people to Him.

Incarnational Living looks differently in different situations. To the waiter’s union in inner-city Brisbane it means holding problem solving sessions for issues in the community and then revealing to people they chose and successfully implemented where following the principals of Christ. For Mother Teresa it meant serving the poorest and most helpless in the community. For Martin Luther King it meant confronting social injustice head on. For xxxchurch it means going into sex shows to tell porn stars that Jesus loves them. For Shane Caliborne it means holding a juggling act when the kids in the community start a fight. For someone else it may mean cooking a meal for a sick neighbour, taking in a young girl who chose to have a baby rather than an abortion, mentoring a high-risk kid, or daring to pray for a sick work mate.

All these actions shine light into dark situations. They deal with the real problems and effects of sin in practical ways. None of them are easy but this only serves to make them more significant. Whilst the ways God works are various can think of a few things we should all be doing: Praying, Sharing, Fasting, Teaching, and Celebrating God’s work.

Incarnational Living serves to introduce people to a concrete, present-day Christ, not an abstract, 2000 year-old, dead guy. As lives are transformed they’ll be swept up into the arms of God as well. Let’s “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.” (1 Peter 2:12)

Reach into the Darkness

“Dare to reach out your hand into the darkness, to pull another hand into the light.” – Norman B. Rice

We’ve been told to be in this world but not of it (John 17 – Contextual and Incarnational Living), but so often I feel like we Christians are of the world but not in it. Like we have wrapped the world’s addictions to safety, comfort, greed, pride, dishonesty, and loneliness in new religious garb whilst also retreating to safe spaces surrounded by holy walls. I’m as bad or worse than anyone.

Yet I believe that the Cross of Christ is the solution to all the decay in this world. I believed that God, the king of history, reached into our darkness – even surrendering himself to the disgrace of death by torture just to give a hand that pulls us into the light. I look at much of the darkness in this world – the hunger, the wars, the greed – both right in front of me and a million miles a way. But Christ died to give us hope of something more and it is our duty to share that hope with people who need it most.

God created this universe. He flung stars into space. He spins galaxies on His finger tips. There is nothing He cannot do, no life He cannot save. Our arguments and fears mean nothing in the light of His glory. He merely needs us to go. Go and be Truth and Love.

Change the world.

I have an evangelical background. As such my zeal to ‘change the world’ always brings me back to conversion, or salvation, or my zeal to change a world. But as I have grown more committed and have come to understand the real cost (and joy) of following Christ I have become increasingly uncomfortable with a gospel message and presentation that, I feel, sells out on God.

I feel like we are coming to a generation of people addicted to comfort and security, who are literally dead on the inside for all their self serving motivations, and saying “Hey, for only a little faith you can spend eternity in this really cool place called heaven, and if you sign up now we’ll be sure to make your church experience as unchallenging yet entertaining as possible.” And whilst it is true (for us salvation is cheep and it is the best ‘product’ in the world) there is a greater truth: Your salvation – your relationship with God, your healing, your transformation into Christ-likeness – is the most expensive and difficult and disciplined thing you’ll ever work for. Your life after death will cost you your life before death.

How do you get people to sign up to that?

How do you preach a gospel that goes something like this: You must stop trying to save yourself, to make yourself the god of your life, to find meaning in fruitless things, to compete with your brothers and sisters over trivial things, to seek comfort and security over love or courage. Because you’ll never find fulfillment in anything when your first motivation is yourself, and you hardly know what you want anyway. Instead there’s this guy from Nazareth, an outcast, who was killed on a Roman torture device, who said dangerous things about giving all our money to the poor, praying for our enemies, becoming last to be first, and taking up our cross so we can join in His suffering. And, despite it being completely backwards, following this guy (the son of God no less) is the only way you’re going to get the satisfaction (the salvation) you’ve been looking for all along. He died to make this possible. But you can’t make that your primary motivation – because even if (impossible as it is) following Christ does not lead to the fulfillment and redemption of your life it is still the right thing to do…

When it comes down to it, that is the gospel. But it doesn’t sound too appealing. So we want to tone it down and split it into a few points and make it about us getting something from God as opposed to giving back to God what we stole to begin with. Jesus never lowered the bar like that. He told a rich guy he had to give away all he had and when he turned to leave Jesus didn’t run after Him confessing it was just an allegory. And if you think James is big on the action-accompanies-faith thing you should read 1 John: “No one who lives in him [Christ] keeps on sinning. No one who continues to sin has either seen him or known him.” (3:6) The early Christians had the bar so high we protestants would call them heretics! The bible seems to make it clear enough that discipleship is a part of salvation, not an optional extra that comes after it.

My question is: how do we effectively ‘evangelise’ that?

I have a collection of haphazard thoughts that I have been collecting but certainly nothing even approaching anything the 3-point-plan which I would love to have (even if I know it doesn’t exist). That makes things challenging, but challenge is what moves us forward. I’ll be posting more of those ideas as I have time (much sooner that the time since my last post I promise!)

But in the mean time how have you presented the gospel in a way that lead to long term meaningful transformation as opposed to offering just another spiritual good? There are people who get ‘born again’ every year yet never change, and there are people who see God and never look away again. How have you worked to see the later kind?

I went to a large church a fair way from where I live last Sunday night. The building was very impressive. The music was like a rock concert – with swirling lights, loud music, and even a mosh pit. The sermon was comfortable, and at the end we were all asked to close our eyes and bow our heads whilst any new converts “raised their hand” (a rather interesting interpretation of Mathew 10:32). The people were all very young and at the end I asked the people with me if they could find anyone who was not a middle-class, white Anglo-Saxon. We counted 2. Out of at least 400 (it was a night time service over the holidays).

The atmosphere was good. I enjoyed the service. But I also knew that I hadn’t really worshiped God. I hadn’t heard his word. I hadn’t seen people saved. I had jumped to contemporary music with a strong beat. I had listened to a guy preach to the choir. And I had seen some people be converted – only to return to their old lives this week.

I left that service thinking it was like a drug. A spiritual high. An addiction which the congregation was indulging in every week oblivious to the effects it had on their lives during the week.

Spiritual Masturbation

Shane Claiborne calls this feel good spirituality “spiritual masturbation”. I can hardly think of a better term. Countless times I’ve attended worship services more bent on making me feel good than in making me feel God. The lighting is just right. The pews are positioned correctly. I can predict the rhythms of the service – when the beat will speed up or slow down, when they’ll stop for prayer, or when a “clap offering” is coming. Too often I feel like I haven’t worshiped God unless I raise my hands and “ooh” and “aah” in ecstasy.

But when I really encounter and worship God I find myself on my knees. My life laid bare, my failings so clear in the light of His glory. All my pursuits and dreams seem like foolishness and I beg him for mercy. It is a decidedly uncomfortable experience -but a life changing one.

In short, I often seek a counterfeit form of worship that makes me feel good over real worship that is honouring to God. And this is only one issue. I think most Christians are not Christians for God’s sake, but for their own. Consider:

The Building – we spend millions to keep ourselves comfortable. We create spaces where it is “safe” to meet God. Yet did we ever thing that God would be more glorified if we danced in the streets and preached in the parks? If we invited people into our homes rather than just our halls? Or if we invested the money in the poor rather than the Air Con? (Recently at a local church there was a meeting to discuss installing air conditioning for the amazingly ‘cheap’ cost of $18000. One of my friends stood up before this meeting and said that it isn’t all that cheep when you consider that for $17000 we could provide clean water and irrigation for an African community and save thousands of lives in the long run. They ended up installing the air con.)

The Distance – the word “fellowship” is one that is only ever used in Christian circles (and the lord of the rings). I’ve come to conclude that it is code for “making us look like we have a more meaningful relationship than we actually do”. From the moment I walk into church I am handed a newsletter from a woman with such a grin she looks like she is meeting an old friend. I can’t even remember her name. Over biscuits and coffee I people (who I hadn’t seen since the previous service) ask me, “how are you?” but they don’t really care, so I reply, “fine” because I don’t really care either. We stand in pews looking at the back of each other’s heads, only hearing what the people on the stage have to say rather than what the heart of the person next to me is wishing to scream. And in the end we depart for another week, each of us feeling complacent with the “fellowship” but none of us having actually given anything.

The Preaching – I can’t remember last time I heard a sermon in an IC (and I’ve been to a fair few) that actually challenged me. Time and again they do nothing but reinforce what I learnt in my first few years as a Christian; repeating the globally accepted and safe cliches of my religion. I can certainly understand the conundrum of the pastor here – if he challenges us too much people will feel uncomfortable and leave. Oh, how far we have fallen.

I could go on. My my point is that for the most part Western Christianity has become a commodity (we pay in tithes – it is quite literally a transaction for religious services) that promises Comfort and Security – exactly the two addictions the empire of the world controls us with! Religion has become nothing more than the opium of the masses. Rather than creating a dangerous, counter-cultural kingdom we have, as Alison Morgan says, “set up private clubs for people whose leisure interest is religion.”

Loving God

Have we even begun to be Christians? Jesus dies on the cross, giving us hope for new life, and calls us to love him in return. But instead we rape Him; using him for our emotional or spiritual highs, our political goals, or our life improvement programs. Jesus has become nothing more than the solution for our problems (like hell); and whilst he IS the solution to our problems he is also our Lord and King and deserves not merely our requests but also our offerings.

The end pursuit of Christianity is not our salvation, or our “coming alive”, or our healing. It is God’s glorification. We’ll be saved and come alive in the process but those things are not the end, they are the means to an end. In our truly counter-cultural religion Christ literally calls us to abandon or “lay down” our lives for his sake to find what we were really made to live for. Die to find life. It’s a life that only comes when we abandon the pursuit of happiness and instead make the service of God our life goal.

Love is not a feeling we get when we worship in Church. Love is an action. It’s an action that leads to a wide range of feelings – from ecstasy to sorrow. It’s a choice to wake up each morning and say “God, today I will glorify you with my life. Today I will not make my satisfaction my goal but rather hope to find it in the service of you. But even if I do not, I will still live for you because you are holy and the one I love.”

I first posted this in May. It has since been published at The Ooze. I think it really summarizes what the gospel means to me and it is a good thing to be constantly reminded of. I’m re-posting it for that purpose.

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36 million people starve to death each year. Meanwhile, 300 million adults are obese.

1 billion people are so poor that their lives are in danger. Meanwhile, the global economy is worth $46 trillion dollars.

There are 8.6 million refugees, and 21 million “people of concern”. Meanwhile, the UN has received only 4% of the money it needs for 15 world crisis.

28 million children die from easily curable diseases each year. Meanwhile, the church is the biggest financial power, wealth accumulator, and property owner in existence.

I wonder: would Jesus be ashamed of us? After 2000 years we have done little to change the world. Jesus said people would know we are his disciples if we love one another (John 13:35) yet people post bumper stickers begging “Jesus, save me from your followers”. We are called to be like Christ, yet Ghandi spoke: “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.”

I remember walking through the city one night around a great, impressive Church. Inside the choir was practising but what shocked me is that they had forgotten the homeless person left sleeping on their steps. I was moved to pen this:

Under the Steeple
Of the old, stone Cathedral
Lies man with no cradle
Bar the cold, hard, steel rail

And under that Steeple
Of the wise, holy People
The sound of the faithful
Rips the dark night’s new veil

Yet under this Steeple
Of the great, powerful Symbol
The hungry man will wail
For some food, love, or ladle

For under this Steeple
Of the old, stone Cathedral
The folk of the temple
Are too busy, yet idle

Cos’ no one is faithful
To the man with no cradle
Hoping peace will prevail
Laying under their Steeple

I latter tried to find this man and show him that Christians are more than good singers but was never able to.

I am a Christian because I believe God is guilty of scandalous and unfair grace. I believe he loved a broken world and a broken people so much he came and died for us. I believe ‘love’ is a verb – an action word. I believe God loves us so much, even though we were so wicked, that he moved heaven and earth to show just how much he cares. I believe that if God can love me, than he can love anyone.

In this world everyone is trying to do what is best for them. Three people feast on more than they can eat whilst another seven are permanently hungry. I believe there is enough food for all ten. I believe that God did not make the mistake of putting more people on this Earth than it can support but rather that there is enough for everyone’s need, but not everyone’s greed.

I believe greed is unsatisfying. No matter how much one acquires there is always more to acquire. I believe there must be a better way. Jesus showed us that way. He did not seek what is best for himself but rather placed other’s first. I believe that love is a choice to place other’s before you. In this way I believe that God’s kingdom is countercultural. I would rather a shack on the rock than a castle built on sand.

I believe that Christ did not die to get a rabble into heaven but rather to create a Church that would revolutionize society. I believe he came to plant a Church which the Gates of Hell will not prevail against (Mathew 16:18). Gates are defensive fortifications, thus I believe the Church is called to be offensive – to storm the gates of sin, pain, shame, anger, and greed in this world and to change it through contagious love.

God’s plan to save us from our sin is to teach us to love. I believe love hurts. I believe that love costs. I know that the only way to undo the damage done by a self-serving culture is to become part of an other-serving culture. I believe that God loves homosexuals, immigrants, criminals, porn stars, the hungry, orphans, widows, the handicapped, the lonely, the unloved, the depressed, and the abused. And I believe that God loves me. I wonder that if God, who is infinitely huge, can love them than who am I not to?

I am a fraud. I live in comfort whilst others are uncomfortable. I eat my fill whilst others starve. I walk past people in poverty with my pay check in my pocket. But love is an action word. And love is hard. And love is costly. But love will save the world. And love has saved me.

I long for a church that reminds the world what it is to live in community. I long for more than programs on Sunday morning. I long for us to see the pain around us and ask ourselves “what does it mean to be Christian?”

I believe another world is possible. If we humble ourselves and remember that whilst we were still wretched Christ died for us than maybe we could be motivated to show that same love for other wretches. I believe that as we place others before ourselves we will infect the world one person at a time and take it over with our love. I know we won’t get it right till after we are dead, but I believe it is worth the try.

I believe we are in this world, but not of it. I think we must somehow balance the requirements of living in a corrupt world with the values of our true home. I believe God has given us the Holy Sprit and each other to help guide us on this type rope walk. I believe Christianity is not a destination. We don’t simply become saved and then exist as the end point of the gospel. I believe Christianity is a journey of imaginative, deeply expressed, and aggressive love.

Another world is possible. Another world begins in each of us.

“work out your salvation with fear and trembling” – Philippians 2:12

I was at a switchfoot concert the other week. These Christian events are the pinnacle of religious hype I have grown to hate so I treat them like entertainment just as I would a secular concert. During the night a high profile evangelist gave a highly emotional talk designed to get as many people as possible to go and get themselves “born again”. Hundreds responded, “praying the prayer”, and left the room to pick up some packs to kick start their faith. Heck, the speaker was so good I was ready to join them for the emotional high of it all.

But something really irks me. Most of those people will be in exactly the same place in a years time as they were that night.

When we reduce salvation to “praying the prayer”, or just “baptism”, or believing the right stuff we violate the Philippians 2:12 principal. To suggest that justification is an event that happens at a certain time and at a certain place is a mistiminer. Jesus listed a whole heap of things someone needed to do in order to “enter the kingdom of God” and you don’t get to that place in a day.

I think we have this idea that we pray a prayer and (bam!) we are at the end of our salvation journey. Sanctification, an entirely new journey, begins. I don’t think it works like that. Praying a prayer or giving your life to God is a stepping stone to salvation, it doesn’t mark the final destination. I think it is what happens when we take Paul’s legal metaphors (only one of the many metaphors used) to its extreme and we end up with this bargaining idea (which also creates the idea that we are saved from God). I give you faith you give me life, sign here, mark this date. But relationships don’t work like that. You don’t meet a girl and become her husband the next day.

Now I know some people can genuinely pin point when they were “born again” and that’s great for them, but is that really the best way of theologically understanding what is happening? I can’t pin point a date. Sure, there are times in my life where God became more real but I never responded to an alter call or prayed the prayer. I hate it when people try to get you to write a testimony and it is suppose to go something like this: “My life sucked, I got saved, my life got better”. My testimony is closer to this: “My life was fine, as I grew up I slowly and confusingly got to know God better and as I have things have only gotten more and more difficult, and doubtful, and challenging, and painful. And I have had to come to terms with verses that tell me to ‘take up my cross’ and ‘give everything I own to the poor’ whilst fighting against increased temptation, and persecution, and such.” (Before you start to worry I am over-exaggerating. I am a happy guy but Christianity is not meant to be comfortable).

I don’t think many people would “pray the prayer” if I told them that.

There is part of me that absolutely knows that I am “saved” despite all my failings. I can’t explain that theologically. All I can say is that after years of striving for God, I belong in His arms. It takes more than a prayer to be able to say that.

Technorati Tags: Christian , Religion , Salvation

(From Emerging Grace)

“There are two freedoms – the false, where a man is free to do what he likes; the true, where he is free to do what he ought.” - Charles Kingsley

There is a common idea in Christianity that God respects our freedom so much that He is willing to allow our mistakes to lead us to eternal torture in hell. According to this view we consciously choose to say no to God and God responds by leaving us to our own devices. After we die He judges us and sends us to hell for the choices He allowed us to make. The consequences are our fault and are just. God is not required to intervene on our behalf whilst maintaining the moral high ground. Freedom from sin is understood as forgiveness from sin and it’s consequence of hell (i.e. freedom from sin = a ticket into heaven). Much of this is true but it misses the point.

The Nature of Sin

No one in their right mind chooses to sin. When we sin we should think of ourselves as being mentally disabled. If we truly know the consequences and exact details of what we are doing we would never choose to do it. If we knew truth we would always choose God. Always. Sin relies on deception to strike and thus eliminates free will in order to cause you to stumble (i.e. you have to lose your freedom before you sin; it is not something you lose after you sin when you are subject to the consequences you can no longer avoid).

Take Adam and Eve. When they ate the apple they were choosing to “become like God”. They were presented with a choice for something that looked really good. Instead they got misery. Who in their right mind would eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil if they fully knew (and believed) the consequences? Adam and Eve got something different to what they choose – their freedom was overruled. Imagine if you walked to a bakery and ordered a sausage roll but always got a meat pie. You would not really be choosing. Freedom only exists when we get what we choose. Adam and Eve did not get what they choose. They did not have freedom (although they are still guilty for their lack of belief and self-centred thinking).

Sin always works this way. It works by polluting our vision, confusing the data, and making a bad choice look like a good one. When you sin you almost always justify it in your mind thinking it would satisfy you in some way – but in fact you have been fooled by a lie! The results are never as good as righteousness and the only reason you ever “chose” it is because you were deceived into thinking it was the better choice. You did not get what you choose. Between a choice of A and B you chose B but got C. You never asked for C, you wanted B (because it genuinely looked better than A), but C was forced upon you against your free will.

Sin is not a wrong choice between good and bad. Rather it is a choice between good and bad masquerading as “better”. Sin itself is a symptom of the evil in this world. Evil can be understood as a disease transmitted by sin (like flu is transmitted by its symptom of sneezing). We are born into this world filled with this disease, someone inevitably wrongs us, and this sin against us tarnishes what was supposed to be a perfect creation. In our ruined state we place ourselves before God, becoming or “catching” evil ourselves, and soon begin to spread it to others with our selfish sins against them. The end result is a world full of ruined people who, because they are ruined, strike out against one another ruining each other even further.

This is hardly what you would call freedom, and a God who sat back and allowed it all to happen whilst this trap forced us into hell (which we didn’t want) would not be respecting our free will. Sin is hardly what you would call a “choice” although our ability to choose is what allows it. If God truly respects our free will he would be compelled to intervene in this cycle, not dispassionately sit back and allow it to continue.

Justice

It’s a sad thing to see a Christian who stuffs up and then cowers as they expect God to begin punishing them for their mistake. Such a view is based on a western understanding of Justice. Justice as executed in our court systems is punishment for doing something wrong. It is directly opposed to mercy which holds back punishment. Thus God is perceived as a being whose senses of Justice and Mercy contradict each other. The end result is a God who appears to have unconditional wrath (everyone is sent to hell) except where mitigated by his conditional love (based on our faith).

Biblical justice is closer to what we would call reconciliation (Isaiah 1:17, 30:18, Jeremiah 21:12, Zechariah 7:9, Matthew 12:18-21, Luke 4:18-19). It is correcting a wrong not via punishment but through the healing power of grace. It is about undoing the damage done by evil in this world. Violence cannot do this. It only inflicts more damage where damage has already been done. Two wrongs never make a right. Redemptive violence is a myth.

Now there are places in the bible where God displays his wrath and punishes people. This however is a preventative measure, not a redemptive one. When a child breaks something and his parents punish him it is not so that what he has broken can be repaired, rather it is so that he does not do it again. God’s wrath works the same way. It is the desperate attempt of a father to teach his children not to run onto the road during peak hour. It is conditional and it is disciplinary (not redemptive). After a child has been hit by a car and is in a coma there is little point in punishing him for it, the time for healing has come.

In the case of humanity that healing comes through love, and not just any love, but the unconditional, infinite love only found in a relationship with God. It is through this love that our ruined state can be repaired, and the symptoms of it will begin to desist. This is why relationship must be made central to Christian theology: God does not need to forgive us of our sins so that we can have a relationship with Him; rather it is through our relationship with Him that we are cleansed of our sins. Jesus did not need people to be clean to eat with them. The idea that we are cleansed of our sins and can thus get into heaven at salvation and then after this, we can begin to have a relationship with Christ makes the relationship optional (we can get into heaven before we have the relationship). If we understand the cleansing of our sins as something that happens through that relationship it becomes vital for salvation.

Salvation

Viewing salvation as a mere key to heaven however greatly minimises it. He we are trapped in a cage: broken, ruined, diseased humans. God, whose love stirs in him a longing for justice, longs for our freedom, our repairing, our healing, and our curing. He cannot sit back and let sin ensnare and drag his creation into hell. So He sent His own son to die for us. Did he need Jesus to die in order to declare us righteous? Did he need a scapegoat to satisfy his wrath or some law he was bound by? No, but we needed Him to die. We needed to know that we were loved enough for Him to die. We needed to know that we were beautiful under all our scars. We needed to know that in our discussing state someone cared so much to go through so much pain. And so as Jesus was struck by a blow designed to put His message of love out of action what really happened is that God turned this own blow against the devil, amplifying this message of love a hundred fold, and defeating evil once and for all (or put differently: whilst on earth Jesus teaches a message of love, the devil tries to stop it, but by Jesus’ death He pays our ‘ransom’ and makes the greatest statement of love of all).

That message – that we are loved – changes us. It begins the healing process. It acts as a cure. But Jesus work is not done yet. In his resurrection we find hope. We find hope that a dead man (like we are) can find life. We have hope that a man wrapped in our chains of sin can find freedom. That a man locked in hell can escape – just as we are trapped in hell even whilst alive. We know we no longer need to try to escape these chains on our own because someone is coming to us with the key. That key is grace, and that grace is experienced the only way it can be – in our relationship with Him.

The gospel is not the story of God giving us a choice to avoid punishment in hell whilst He sits back and hopes we make it. The gospel is the story of God coming to us whilst we are bound in chains we cannot escape and tearing them from us before it is too late. It is the story of God giving us freedom, not expecting us to act with a “free will” that we do not have. As God woos us we fall in love with Him. As we fall in love with Him we begin to place Him first – the criteria upon which we base judgements begin to change. As that criterion becomes love filled we begin to sin less (because sin no longer looks like a good choice). As we sin less we contribute less to the mess this world is in and instead begin to get to work helping God to save it.

That is freedom – not choosing something that we want to do based on criteria ruined by our selfishness, but choosing what we ought to do based upon love found in Christ. Freedom is a good thing, not something that causes us to sin, but something that causes us to be righteous. Something found in relationship. The result of redemption. The purpose of salvation.

(Disclaimer: I am aware that the thoughts in this post are not complete and need some refining. It is a base upon which to think about a relational theology and not the final product. I encourage you to build upon this base just as I have built upon the base built at The Rebel God and by authors such as Donald Miller and even John Eldredge. As my fellow blogger says, “Theology is something that should be done in community.”)