PRAYER FOR THE NEW YEAR

Holy Father and Lord:

For thy faithfulness through the year past we give thee thanks. Thou hast sustained us by the very Breath of thy being. Truly, "in thee we live and move and have our being." Thou hast kept us enclosed, surrounded and engulfed in thy holy presence. We are infused and enlivened by thy Holy Spirit. There was not one moment in this past year when we were not saved through your loving mercy and grace.

For the promise of the new year we give thee thanks. Thou wilt sustain us through all that might come our way. Thy loving presence will go before us. Wherever we might find ourselves we will never be apart from thee. We do not fear what lies before because "neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." We are already "more than conquerors" and so shall we continue to be in the year before us.

For the coming of thy kingdom we give thee thanks. We know that through the resurrection of Christ thy coming kingdom has dawned and swept us up into its promise. Even now does thy kingdom grow towards the glorious emerging of the New Jerusalem. "He rules the world with truth and grace and makes the nations prove the glories of his righteousness and wonders of his love."

For the new year may we submit ourselves to the moving power and freedom of thy Holy Spirit that we might be the continual instruments of thy grace to all those to whom you might send us. May we as the people of God shine forth as the light of God that, unhindered, thou mayest complete the kingdom work for which thy Son did give his life.

Finally, "come quickly, Lord Jesus." May "thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Fill us in the coming year with thy Spirit so that the heavenly vision will become our earthly vision and the earthly one our heavenly one, "until every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that thou art Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Amen.

LESSON 12

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Linda and I just returned from a Christmas Eve service. I couldn't help wondering as we sang beautiful Christmas carols, many derived from the story found in Luke 2, how none of these songs would have been written had God simply given us 2000 years ago a doctrinal treatise on his love for man. I was reminded that our faith rests in a story, and stories lend themselves to repeated telling. And beautiful stories like the one found in Luke 2 inspire beautiful music.

But how much of the story is historical truth? Recently I read a book by Marcus Borg in which he concluded that many of the stories about Jesus are true only metaphorically, much like the way poems contain truth couched in metaphorical language. On the other hand, we have those who proudly proclaim their belief that all stories of the Bible are historically factual.

In questions like this I return to that about which I wrote in an earlier blog: let us rejoice and fellowship with those who claim that Christ is Lord by virtue of the fact that he died and rose again for our sins. I refuse to believe that early Christians were moved to the point of death by belief in the resurrection as metaphor. And for two thousand years the church has survived and thrived because of its belief that the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus was not just a metaphor but the great act of God for our salvation.

However, when it comes to the historical events surrounding Jesus birth I can fellowship with those who see many of these stories as metaphorical truth. While this may not sit well with some, which I understand, I am convinced that ultimately we will be held accountable more for what we did in our lives beacuse of the stories than exactly how we believed about them. Belief in the Bible can be a source of pride which Jesus faced in many of the Pharisees of his day, who had a strongly conservative view of the Old Testament scriptures. To them he said: "You search the scriptures and in them you think you have life, but they testify of me and you will not come to me."

In the sovereignty of God we have been given the beautiful accounts of Jesus' birth. And those accounts have inspired the most beautiful music the world has ever witnessed. Our faith centers on the story of a person whom God sent to reconcile the world unto himself. Doctrine alone would not have saved; great words would not have saved. Only the person of Jesus, Son of God, could save. And because he came in history the story of his coming is one which continues to be told and which continues to inspire song and belief. The ultimate response to the songs of Christmas is that we worship "Jesus, Lord at Thy birth."

May the joy and beauty of Christmas fill your hearts and lives this Christmas season. "O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord."

LESSON 11

CHRISTMAS CONTINUED

To say, as I did in my previous blog, that "God identifies with the powerless" does not negate the primary mission of Jesus to "seek and to save that which was lost." Liberation theologies of the past generation wholly identified Jesus' mission as one of social and economic deliverance. On the other hand, evangelical theologies tended to identify Jesus' ministry solely in terms of spiritual salvation, with an emphasis on the next world. One cannot escape in scripture the presence and emphasis of both themes. Reconciling both themes seems to bring the most difficulty, with various groups leaning to one extreme or the other.

The incarnation not only reveals but enforces the value God places on human life. The concept was not new. From the beginning we are told that humankind was made in the image of God. It is shortsighted and disrespectful to much of scripture to believe that God cares only to take us to heaven. The life Jesus lived underscores the desire of God for righteousness on earth. Christianity is an ethical faith. The tension we feel, however, was also felt in New Testament times. "Faith without works is dead." "For by grace are you saved, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast."

If the term "identifying" is too strong or too imprecise then another term is needed, which escapes me for the moment. But whatever term we use it must be faithful to portray adequately the extent to which God goes to bring salvation. And it must be faithful to what is revealed in scripture, that God "became poor that we might become rich." I have not thought enough along these lines to be as precise as one needs to be in theological discussion but I cannot escape what seems apparent--that God brought salvation through the surprising means of human weakness. He allowed himself to suffer utter humiliation without objection--"like a lamb before her shearers is dumb."

Jesus' example and teaching do not lead us to champion the cause of every disenfranchised group. But we also must not presuppose that God is not speaking to us through those groups. There is much room here for careful thought and reflection. We must never assume we know precisely where it is that God is or is not working. The incarnation is a great mystery and also a wonderful surprise. And what could be more surprising that to find God at work in a lowly manger?

LESSON 10

CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS CONTINUED

Of all the miraculous events surrounding the birth of Christ one which should not be overlooked is the self-emptying of Christ. While not a miracle in the normal sense in which we use the word this attitude of Christ prefigures and permeates all that Jesus did while on earth. The phrase is found in Philippians 2, where Paul admonishes Christians to "have this mind in you which was in Jesus who, although he existed in the form of God, did not think equality with God something to be held onto but emptied himself." The King James Version here says that Christ "made himself of no reputation." The Greek word used by Paul to denote the self-emptying of Christ parallels the Hebrew word used in Isaiah 53, which speaks of the Suffering Servant, who "poured out his soul unto death.

Focusing on this aspect of the incarnation brings us to the heart of God's work in Christ: the decision by Jesus in obedience to the divine imperative was a moral one. In other words, it was a conscious choice by Jesus to follow the Father's will completely, even to "death on a cross," as stated by Paul in the same passage. The wonder of the virgin birth pales in comparison to this humbling of Jesus' self. And, for Paul, it is the humbling of Jesus which is to be our example as Christians. While the New Testament clearly affirms the virgin birth Christians miss the mark when they focus on the physical miracle as an example of God's power to the neglect of the moral self-emptying of the Son of God which made all else possible.

"God's power is made perfect in weakness." This statement by God to Paul when he was seeking deliverance from his thorn in the flesh illustrates further the majesty of God in contradistinction to our normal thoughts of God. I believe it was Luther who reminded us that anyone can say that God is great--it goes with the definition of God. But only Christians can say that God is small--referring to the baby in a manger. The God of human thought emphasizes those aspects which humans find desirable--power and might. But the God of Christian thought is one who makes himself weak, who becomes poor, who humbles himself, who allows himself to be subjugated, abused, scorned and crucified.

It is the God revealed to us in Jesus whom we are to worship and emulate. This God does not identify himself with worldly power, possession, authority or position. Rather, he identifies with the weak, the poor, the disenfranchised, the powerless. And Christmas reminds us of this most poignantly. We may not be comfortable with a God who becomes the most helpless of all creatures, that of a human baby. But this is the God we are called to serve. "Late in time behold him come, offspring of a virgin's womb." "Jesus, Lord at Thy birth."

LESSON 9

MORE CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS

In my last post I wrote of the secular/sacred contrast as especially seen at Christmas. I realize that one must be careful to not draw too clear a distinction between the secular and holy when speaking of God's creation and work. All of creation is the realm of God and is in a very real sense sacred. And God manifests his glory throughout the creation and may even speak to us in a multiplicity of ways. Romans 1 indicates the revelation of God through creation.

But Christians affirm that God has spoken to us uniquely through his Son. And although all creation has a sacred quality to it not everything that mankind does is sacred. In fact, the only completely holy thing ever done in history was the life and death of Jesus. For that reason, the church is to reflect, give witness to and proclaim that holy life, death and resurrection. It is our unique mission.

The Christmas and Easter seasons provide special opportunities for the church to declare its unique message. The message must be one which can be preached to all nations and all cultures. For that reason the church must always be about examining itself to insure that its message is not captured by any particular cultural or national ethos. The message we proclaim must be the same message we might proclaim in any corner of the world. Although churches must involve themselves in the particular cultures which they serve, the message of the churches must always rise above those particular cultures.

In attempting to make the Christmas season joyous to everyone the church must not forget that the joy Jesus sought was that which "lay before him" following his faithful "endurance" of the cross. In our joy at Christmas let us not neglect nor forget the wound which lies deep within the message. For the Apostle Paul, the birth of Jesus revealed the self-emptying of Jesus, culminating in his "obedience to the point of death, even death on a cross."

LESSON 8

CHRISTMAS

Christmas can be a magical time, especially for children. I am still able to remember the wonder on Christmas morning, of seeing toys that had magically appeared over night brought by Santa Clause. At that early age I was too young to be consciously Christian. I just believed, like all children, in what I was told, whether it be in Jesus or in Santa Clause. I do not believe it was harmful to my later Christian profession to have once believed in Santa Clause. Children believe in all sorts of fantasies, whether it be Santa Clause or Cinderella. I really do not think it unChristian or harmful to allow children to believe in Santa Clause; neither do I fault those parents who have decided, out of their Christian beliefs, not to impose the Santa myth on their children.

However, what we do in church is another thing altogether. What an absolutely wonderful message Christians have to hold and to share at Christmas. The church should be ever mindful of the holy night of Jesus' birth. I find it ironic this Christmas season to see on the internet choirs breaking forth in singing the Hallelujah Chorus in public places. And then I read in a church bulletin where a church is going to have Santa Clause at its Christmas festivities. The irony is that the choirs, some secular, have taken the message of Christ into the market place while the churches have taken the market place (Santa) into worship.

I believe the commandment, "Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain," applies here. Whatever the church does, whether in worship or in activity, it attaches the Lord's name to that particular activity or worship. It is God's house. And Jesus said, "My house shall be a house of prayer." With such a wonderful and holy message as that of Christ's birth to proclaim, why would the church opt to cloud and confuse the message with one of Santa Clause? I remember over thirty years ago when my wife and I belonged to Bellview Baptist Church while attending seminary in Memphis that Bellview (one of the largest and most prominent churches in the Southern Baptist Convention, pastored by Adrian Rogers) had one of the first singing Christmas trees. It was absolutely huge. And as we gathered for worship the first song the singing Christmas tree sang was "Winter Wonderland." Later the worship morphed into the more traditional religious songs of Christmas. But the message had been given: the church has two messages to bring--one secular and one holy.

The huge singing Christmas tree was a beautiful sight, impressive and awe-inspiring. But I can't help remember the admonition of a wonderfully dear professor of mine who reminded us young preacher boys that the Psalmist admonished us to worship in the "beauty of holiness," not the "holiness of beauty."

I'm not a Christmas Grinch. As I said before, Christmas can be a magical time for children and young children do not yet have the discernment to choose between the secular and the sacred. They believe it all. But when those children are brought into the house of God let them see the beauty, majesty and holiness of Christ's birth. As they grow older, they, like us, will understand that the message of Christmas as proclaimed by the church is a message that eclipses all others. And even though their days of belief in Santa Clause will have passed their days of believing and trusting in the Jesus in the manger will have emerged and grown. "Silent night; holy night . . . . Jesus, Lord at Thy birth."

LESSON 7

CONCLUDING REMARKS ON THE CROSS

While it can be a valuable and worthwhile endeavor to seek to explain more fully the cross and its meaning it must not be forgotten that our salvation comes by faith and not by understanding. Many Christians live their lives with integrity and faithfulness who do not have the time or inclination to ponder what some might call the "deeper" things of God. They simply go about their lives in assured belief that Christ died for them. That is enough. These persons are not to be criticized or accused of having a faith too simplistic. As it is for each of us our lives reflect the manner and depth of our faith. Not everyone is called by God to be a theologian, pastor or Bible teacher.

But God does call some for the task of leading others in professional ministerial callings or lay ministry. Unfortunately, further study and contemplation of biblical doctrine often leads to division rather than unity. I refer back to my post of November 19, 2010, and insist again that we must be careful that our theological inquiries do not lead us to lose fellowship over peripheral matters. I have found it remarkable in times past to see that it is possible to preach in such a way as to define Christian faith so narrowly that few could ever become Christians. And yet, these same preachers outside the confines of their churches would readily fellowship with pastors of other denominations, persons who would otherwise be condemned according to messages these pastors just preached.

Let us as Christians rejoice in the cross of Christ. Let those who are so led of the Lord to extricate more fully the nuances and theological underpinnings of Christ's death on the cross do so faithfully with adherence to the biblical texts and for the purpose of edifying the body of Christ. But let none of us suppose for a moment that we have the corner on all of God's truth. If we look to the cross in true faith we will be humbled, not magnified in our supposed learning and erudition. "In the cross of Christ I glory."

LESSON 6

THE CROSS (CONT.)

Theories of the atonement have abounded for centuries and include such descriptive names as the moral view, the representative view, blood atonement, etc. My object in writing is not to critique the various views but present briefly what I consider to be of chief importance. In my two previous blogs I discussed ethical dimensions arising from Jesus' life and death. On this blog I hope to present the salvific aspect of the cross: how does the cross bring salvation?

Very simply, Jesus "died for us" and it is through our looking to the cross in faith that we are saved. We trust that in his death our sins are forgiven. We cannot hope to understand fully the mind of God but can trust with the earliest Christians that through the death and resurrection of Jesus we are able to experience the forgiveness of God. Theories of the atonement that seek to emphasize the moral influence of the cross on our lives to the exclusion of any satisfaction or substitutionary aspects ignore scripture to the contrary. He died "as a ransom for many." "He, who knew no sin, was made to be sin for us." Opponents of satisfaction and substitution aspects of the cross attempt to deliver Christianity from what they consider to be unthinkable characterizations of God as "blood thirsty," relying, they say, too much on Old Testament rituals of blood sacrifice.

However, to be true to scripture one must not sever the life and death of Christ from his Jewish roots. And, modern sensibilities aside, the relationship of his death to that of the sacrificial worship found in the Old Testament cannot be authentically denied. Old Testament sacrifice may be seen as a type of Christ's death, foretelling it and preparing us for it. That said, the whole of the meaning in Christ's death could not be contained in the type. Christ's death completes and fulfils the message found in the type. Old Testament sacrifice tells us many things about God, among these things is that God is holy, that no human instrument or goodness can rise to the level of God's perfection, that God desires righteousness or goodness, and that God himself must provide the means whereby he may receive us without compromise to his holy nature. Blood sacrifices were a means whereby God demonstrated to his people, and ultimately to us, that his forgiveness came at great cost, ultimately to himself.

Jesus entered into our history to live a life a obedience to God, to establish historically the righteousness of God and to suffer the consequences of that righteous life. God did not deliver his own Son from the consequences of his obedient life, hence Jesus' refusal to Satan to employ any supernatural means to avoid historical reality. Otherwise, he would not have truly been our brother. Jesus lived his obedient life through faith, the same as we are called to do but at which we fail. The result of Jesus' life was that humankind crucified him, the certain indictment of humanity: in our sinfulness we slew the only righteous life that ever lived.

The murder of Jesus is the ultimate indictment against humanity. When we look to the cross we see our sins, we see our own solidarity with those who slew Jesus. In faith we repent. We begin to see that Jesus included us before God in the righteousness of his life and included us in his death and resurrection. This is what might be called a representative view of the atonement. Humans slew Jesus and in so doing brought judgment on themselves. God accepted the judgment as complete and demonstrated his acceptance through the resurrection of Jesus.

This is an incomplete and wholly unsatisfactory treatment of something which we can never fully understand until we see Jesus. However, the responsibility we have is to believe in what God has done and seek our entire lives to understand it more fully. Fides quaerens intellectum: Faith seeking understanding.

If then you have been raised with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

[Thanks to Laura for showing me how to space between paragraphs!]

LESSON 5

THE CROSS (CONT.)

Continuing on the ethical dimensions of the cross event I find three scripture passages to be compelling. First, Jesus' prayer at Gethsemane indicates the conscious decision he made to follow the Father's will--"not my will but Thine be done." The subject of ethics always relates to decision making and the reasons decisions are made. In this instance it is apparent that Jesus was confronted with a choice to either save himself from the suffering that lay ahead or to commit himself fully to the Father's purpose for his life and death. But this final choice for obedience was enabled by a much earlier choice made by Jesus before his earthly appearance. The second passage makes this clear. Paul informs us that Jesus, "though existing in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, or grasped, but emptied himself and became obedient to the point of death." (Philippians 2) The Greek word for self-emptying is similar to the Hebrew word found in Isaiah 53 in which the Suffering Servant is said to have "poured out his soul unto death." Jesus' emptying of self is his total disregard for anything other than the Father's will. Hence, his final decision to remain obedient to the Father at the point of death flowed from his prior willingness to subjugate his own will to that of the Father. "I and the Father are one." "I always do those things that please the Father." For us, one imprtant lesson is that life's choices flow from a priori commitments, that it is too late to make proper decisions if we have not first emptied ourselves of self will and self rule, something we have surely done at the moment of conversion and must continue to do at every course of life. Remember Paul's "I die daily."

The third passage further reveals the motive behind Jesus' willingness to commit himself to the Father's perfect will for his life and death. And it is also found in a passage exhorting us to ethical purity. The writer of Hebrews admonishes us to "lay aside every weight of sin that clings so closely to us" by keeping our eyes on Jesus, who "for the joy set before him endured the cross." The self-emptied Jesus also looks forward to the day of joy ahead when he is seated at the Father's right hand, a position indicating the Father's pleasure and acceptance of his obedience in life and death. For Jesus, the anticipated joy of having finished the work he was sent to do empowered him through the suffering that followed as the result of his life of obedience. A practical question for us constantly to ask ourselves is: will the choice I am about to make result in a joyful memory or one of regret? We all know the difference in going to bed at might with joy or regret. Jesus never experienced regret. For the Christian all experences are not joyful in themselves--Jesus did not enjoy the cross; he "endured" it. We sin when we try to find ultimate joy in things or in experiences themselves. The joy Jesus anticipated came not from the experience itself but from his obedience. Making the experience of joy itself our chief goal leads to idolatry and religions that attempt to foster experience as the end-all of worship and life lead us inadvertently into idolatry and the constant quest for further heightened experience. Churches become creative in their attempts to foster greater and greater experiences and people become more and more enamored with the experience itself and more needful of repeat experiences. The impact of worship becomes crucial and the creation of feeling becomes the goal. Worship services become grand displays of glitter, sound, emotion and visual stimulation. The result is an experience oriented congregation in need of grander and grander experiences. Jesus was not driven by experience but the joy which followed; whether the experience itself was joyful in itself (as when, perhaps, he brought healing) or painful (the cross). The cross teaches us to seek for the joy which is set before us, finding it, rather than life's experiences, to be our ultimate goal.

LESSON 4

THE CROSS: Part I

"But God demonstrates his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." There are so many aspects to this event that I will address certain categories one day at a time, not necessarily in any order of importance. First, there is the ethical consideration, not usually given the important place it deserves in our theology. Jesus went to the cross because of the life he lived. Although ordained of God, the cross came a result of the historical life of Jesus. The cross did not occur in a vacuum--it came as the result of a life given completely to the will of God. "I always do those things which please the Father." We do injustice to the meaning of the cross if we, in our desire to focus on it being the theological basis for our forgiveness, which it is, neglect to see that the cross represented the culmination of a life lived in complete harmony with God. I cannot claim the benefits of the cross, nor can I claim solidarity with its meaning, if I am not willing to share in the lifestyle of Jesus that occasioned it. In other words, for me to claim the cross as significant in my life also means for me to be willing to live the cross-centered life. "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him take up his cross daily and follow me." It is helpful for us to remember that the cross would have been of no effect if Jesus had gone there unwillingly, stubbornly, or stoically. God's acceptance of Jesus' sacrifice implies his acceptance also of the life that went before. The event of the cross cannot be separated from the life that went before. For me it means that I cannot rejoice in my forgiveness if I am not willing to share in the sacrificial and obedient life that Jesus lived. This is the difficult part for us. We gladly accept the forgiveness but less willingly desire to live the cross-centered life. And although we will never live it in the full obedience that Jesus did, for us to claim Christianity as our faith is to accept the responsibility of living the life of sacrifice and obedience that Jesus lived. And, contrary to what we often hear preached, a life lived today in obedience to God will produce much the same result that it did in Jesus" day: a cross. Paul said, "I die daily." The abundant life of which Jesus spoke is not a life consisting of the abundance of possessions and comfort but rather the abundance of Christ's life within us in the midst of life's challenges, difficulties and sufferings. Let us aspire to be true followers of Christ as we lift high the cross he bore for us. "Jesus, I my cross have taken."

LESSON 3

THE BIBLE

Is the Bible the Word of God? How do you know if the Bible is the Word of God? There are many arguments for the Bible being inerrant, infallible and authoritative. But no one and no argument can tell you whether it is God's Word or not. Only you can decide for yourself and that by reading it. What good is an inerrant text that is never read? I believe in my heart that the Bible is God's Word because through it he speaks to me like no other book I read. When I have doubts it is the reading of the Bible that re-ignites my faith. God speaks to me through the reading of his Word.

It is not an argument because it is a subjective experience. I cannot convince another person that the Bible is God's Word--I may tell that person what the Bible is to me, and I can believe it is God's Word, but the other person must find for himself whether it be so or not.

Many persons are convinced that the Bible is God's inerrant, infallible Word but let the Bible gather dust except on Sundays. They are convinced because they have been taught by others of the Bible's inerrancy and infallibility. They proudly defend it to others and suspect anyone who disagrees with them as liberal or unbelieving. They use it to defend the faith, convince others of the validity of Chrisitianity and "prove" whatever theological position they may be supporting. The Bible is a great conpendium of proof texts which they memorize in order to gain the upper hand in arguments.

My challenge to any person is to discover for themselves whether the Bible is indeed God's Word and not claim that it is until they themselves have confronted God through the reading of it. Words like 'inerrancy' and 'infallibility' matter little to a person who finds God through the reading of his Word. I do not care one whit whether an old wood stove has scratches on it as long as it brings me heat. I do not care whether the Bible is inerrant or infallible. The Bible is the Word God has given us and through it God is able to bring us to salvation, whatever translation we may have.

My regret is not that I don't know how to describe the Bible properly but that I don't read it enough. It is the testimony of men who were moved by the Spirit of God and who experienced his saving grace. And it is through their testimonies that I find my faith. I cannot by scientific examination or argument prove to you anything about the Bible. I can only say that "whereas I was blind, I now can see."

[I would be appreciative of anyone who might be able to help me find a way to properly space my paragraphs in this blog. I simply cannot find a way to indent paragraphs or put spacing between paragraphs. Thanks!]

LESSON 2

WHO OR WHAT DO YOU REALLY TRUST?

Trust Christ. Trust Christ alone. Trust Christ completely. You cannot trust yourself because you are a sinner. You cannot trust your decision for Christ because sometimes people change their minds. You cannot trust your repentance because no repentance is perfect nor is it from a pure heart. You cannot trust your feelings because feelings change. You cannot trust your experience because experience may come from a variety of sources and your experience tomorrow may contradict your experience today. You cannot trust your doctrine because, as good or correct as you may think it is, it is a human instrument subject to human frailty and fallibility. Do not trust your church because even though it is the body of Christ it does not have to power to bestow salvation. Do not trust your religious understanding or perception because you will never understand perfectly and salvation does not come through your understanding. Do not trust your belief in the facts of Christ's death and resurrection because even the demons believe and tremble.

Do not look within for you cannot see within yourself perfectly and what you can see is full of contradictions. Do not look around you for others cannot tell you the condition of your soul. Do not look behind you because whatever you did or did not do previously did not in itself last beyond the moment. Do not look before you because you are not promised another moment. Look to the cross where Christ died for you.

There is only one constant, one certainty: Christ himself. Trust his decision to save you. In trusting his decision you will find your salvation. Cast yourself completely upon him and then do not trust the act of casting yourself but trust him and his desire to include you in his gift of salvation. "For I am come to seek and to save that which was lost."

It is nearly two years to the day since I last wrote. Recently I have found myself with much time on my hands, a situation not of my own choosing, but which I receive as providential for reasons I cannot fully understand. However, the posts to my blog which hopefully will follow in the next several days are an attempt on my part to be more faithful in redeeming the time. The course of action I have decided to pursue is to set forth some sort of theological legacy for my children, especially, and for any others who might happen upon these writings. My first thought was to set forth 30 days of devotions or admonitions, one for each day of the month, but time will tell whether I follow through with the entire month. But it is obvious that I can't finish unless I begin. Let us begin, therefore, with my first admonition, or life-lesson, if you will.

CERTAINTY AND AMBIGUITY

In your life you will find yourself in an ongoing battle in determining what things are certain and what things you should allow for a certain amount of ambiguity. Over time, you will change your mind more than once concerning many issues. For the Christian there should be a place of certainty on which you, like Luther, take your stand. "Here I stand, God help me, I can do no other." For me, that place of certainty is that "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Included within this statement of certainty is that Jesus was crucified and resurrected for my sins and that I am, therefore, forgiven of my sins and have within me the hope of eternal life.

From this central core of Christian belief there exist ever-widening circles of theological propositions to explain and expand our Christian understandings to virtually every sphere of life and thought. It has been my observation that the more fundamentalist one is in theological thought the wider the circles of certainty expand to cover virtually the entire spectrum of Christian theology. For these people, being wrong on any point, no matter how far from the center, makes one wrong on everything. On the other hand, religious liberals narrow the content of certainty until there may be nothing at all which cannot be compromised. There may be no concrete place to stand, other than on some statement of human solidarity in the search for truth. Everyone who wants to be a part for whatever reason is welcomed with no questions asked, other than perhaps the question: do you want to be a part of the journey?

In Jesus' day, the people with the most certainty were the religious leaders. And it is to these people that Jesus gave his harshest utterances. For them, certainty demanded a precise answer to every theological inquiry, right up to and including how far a person could walk on the Sabbath. Jesus frequently broke their religious laws and was called demonic as a result. The ever-expanding circles of their certainty drove people away from the kingdom of God. As a result, Jesus was kinder to those outside the religious spheres of his day and to those who came to him with uncertainty rather than certainty, i.e., Nicodemus.

My admonition for today is to find certainty in Christ but resist religious certainty that demands agreement on far-reaching issues of theology. Subjects with which we may find ambiguity are: 1) precise definitions of what exactly the Bible is or isn't; 2) eschatology, or end of time theology; 3) church polity; 4) baptismal form; 5) precise descriptions or definitions of conversion; 6) the literal existence or precise definition or description of hell; and 7) manifestation of the Spirit in the Christian's walk with God.

Obviously, more subjects could be added to the list and I may come back to this blog and do so as they occur to me. I suppose the ultimate admonition on this subject is this: do not allow the existence of ambiguity rob you of the joy that flows from your certainty and do not expect or require agreement from others in areas of ambiguity. The test for the Apostle John was that one be willing to proclaim that Jesus is Lord. Amen.

My last post was Easter and it's nearly Christmas. Perhaps I am becoming like the folks who attend church twice a year. Today I received a comment on my March 2007 blog entry from someone I do not know. It was encouraging to me. But the fact that I need encouragement certainly distinguishes me from someone like Jeremiah. We say that our hope comes from the Lord but all too often we rely on human response to be our measure of personal worth. The irony is that positive human response to our efforts, which we seek even if subconsciously, necessarily creates a stumbling block in our relationship with God by feeding our self-inflating ego. But if I seek to rid myself completely of the need for human response and succeed (although impossible in reality) I have created another stumbling block: the awareness of a personal success. Apparent victory over sin creates another sin.

The obvious answer to the questions raised by these thoughts is that we cannot look within for certainty or comfort. Once again, the cross looms--the judgment on every supposed success and our failure to perceive the loss in our success. Small wonder that Paul determined to preach nothing but Christ and him crucified.

There is now no doubt where this is heading. Jesus, in the garden, is fully aware of his destination. Theologians speak of something called his "messianic consciousness," his growing understanding during life of his calling and mission. His growing awareness of God, of himself, of man during his ministry prevented him from any false illusions during the triumphal entry a few days prior. But the starkness of his calling was now immediately before him. He has "always done those things which pleased the Father." But in pleasing the Father he has displeased sinful man. And the Father will not rescue him from the awful results of that displeasure. In fact, it is the Father's "good pleasure" to see his only Son die as the result of a life lived righteously. It is the ultimate judgment on humankind to see it rise up and slay the only righteous one who ever lived. And yet, the one life lived in righteousness has established historically the righteousness of God. Unrighteous mankind brings the judgment of God on itself in slaying God's only Son. For mankind, Jesus lived in righteousness and died as its judgment. Historically, sin has proven itself to be utterly sinful. Jesus submits to the consequences of human sin against his righteous self and in so doing remains righteous to the end. God cannot rescue his son until sin has run its course. But then, Easter. God cannot allow sin to have the final say. God cannot allow the sinfulness of man to seal the fate of man. He delivers his Son after sin has finished its most sinful act. And in so doing God vindicates the righteousness of his Son, receives Jesus' righteousness in history as representing the human race, accepts the judgment on his Son as judgment for the race and is vindicated in his desire for human righteousness on earth. Jesus becomes the firstborn of all that is new. He presents in himself what we all shall be in faith. We have risen with Jesus to new life. He has included us in his own presentation of righteousness to God. "If then ye be risen with Christ keep seeking the things above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God." Happy Easter to all this glorious week.

One of the themes of my preaching in years past was the need for God to remove one by one from each of us the grounds on which we stood until we had nothing upon which to stand but the grace of God. Paul seemed to me to be the perfect example. In Philippians he listed the various grounds upon which he placed his confidence until the Damascus Road experience. In a blind stupor he found himself helpless before God, the perfect place for the discovery of grace. When preaching those thoughts I did not realize the depth of my own need. A recent reading of a book by Larry Crabb, Shattered Dreams, has reminded me of the truthfulness of those sermons and stirred in me a hope and reminder that my losses (many self-inflicted) are the means to great gain with God. The difficulty lies in allowing the pain and struggle of loss to bring us to God, rather than numbing the pain through various fixes which seem to give temporary relief. Crabb reminds us in his book that until we are willing to endure pain and suffering without the fixes we can never experience the presence of God. The pain and suffering of life and its shattered dreams may never fully abate, but the presence of God can become more powerful in us in the midst of these losses if we abandon ourselves to God rather than continually finding ways and means to alleviate the suffering. This seems to be the challenge: to endure until we find the reality of God.

It all reminds me of a story one of my seminary professors once told of a British pastor and writer named F. B. Meyer. A young minister came to see Meyer one day complaining of an unsupportive wife whom he planned to divorce so that he could continue in his plans for ministry. After listening as long as he could, Meyer suddenly stood up, pounded his desk, and said: "Young man, my sorrow has been my strength." What the young man had not known was that Meyer's wife had left him years ago because of her aversion to his ministry but that he had never divorced her, choosing rather to live with the constant pain of separation.

The message seems to be that the only path to a true relationship to God is through the sufferings of life, rather than around them. Much of my life, as I look back, has been composed of creative (and sinful) attempts to avoid pain. Pray that I may finally learn to embrace the pain in order to find the embrace of God.

It is amazing, and somewhat sad, that it takes so long to figure some things out. I'm 56 years old and am just now seeing some very disturbing things about myself. This reflection began while reading a book about Hitler by Toland in which Toland quoted another historian as saying that Hitler was mystic, a person led not so much by outward circumstances as by inner impulses. I began to see that this was probably an accurate way of describing my own life's journey. I was always led my impulses which in time became obsessions which often resulted in changes of course. I left the university after three years to attend another college, only to return to the university for one quarter before quitting and joining the Air Force. While playing in the Air Force band I felt the "call to preach" and turned my life toward ministry. The result was that after the Air Force I returned to school, finished and entered seminary. I quit after two years and began a rural pastorate which lasted for one year. Without recounting all my decisions, which finally resulted in my earning a PhD, it is revealing that in the first twelve years of marriage my wife and I moved twelve times. Each time I thought I was being led by the Lord. Looking back with some objectivity I must now question my sense of God's leadership. I was being led, but was it from above or from within? I recall that a former pastor once said that I was unstable. Perhaps he was right. I am now at a point in which I am uncertain of any decision I might make. I have lived a life following dreams and impulses and now find myself with a PhD working in a warehouse. I don't have all the answers to my questions but only hope that the Lord might work with me in a way that might prove useful to his kingdom, even after wandering 30 years in apparent darkness. I am thankful through all his that I have been blessed with a faithful wife, three wonderful kids, a great son-in-law, a terrific daughter-in-law and four beautiful grandchildren. All are greatly undeserved.

I find that maintaining a relationship with God to be difficult and fleeting. The problem I encounter is continuing to seek after God when there appears to be no reciprocal response. I almost enter into a state of unbelief at times because it seems that whether I am praying or not there is nothing to confirm God's attention to my seeking after him. Rationally, I continue to believe in the existence of God, primarily through my observance of the creation and the compelling testimony of the scriptures. But it is difficult to remain in faith when there is no apparent response. In times of faithfulness the only thing I note is my own seeking and my own devotion. I do not notice any real difference in any tangible way of communication from God towards me. Perhaps faith demands that we continue when there is nothing to confirm the existence of God in our hearts. I believe it was Moltmann who said that faith most often works contrary to experience. A religion that constantly seeks confirmation through experience isn't really operating on the basis of faith. However, how difficult it is to maintain faith when God seems to remain silent. Seldom do I doubt God's existence but I do have difficulty understanding the way in which God deals with us. In all honesty, I notice no difference from God's side in my relationship with him whether I am in active pursuit of a meaningful devotional life or whether I live my life simply with an awareness of him. The only difference seems to be from my own side--whether I want to spend time in prayer and devotion or not. I can be very fervent in my devotional life, or very negligent. The response from God to my soul does not seem to change. For me, private devotion is difficult, simply because I do not receive from God any response which I can clearly attribute to him. "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief."

Perhaps the most crucial statement of the New Testament is the recorded cry of dereliction: "My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" For us it is a sure sign of authenticity in the gospel accounts of Matthew and Mark: why would authors intent on leading their readers to belief in Jesus reveal words that would otherwise appear so damaging if those words were not in fact true? My contemplation of these words began as I pondered my own difficulty in knowing God. In fundamental ways it is easier to believe in God than to know him, easier to obey, perhaps, than to know him. Faith in God is a thing of infinite worth; intimate knowledge of God seems to come with great struggle.

And we see Jesus, one who knew God intimately, "always doing those things which pleased the Father," uttering those fateful words so mysterious. Yes, we know that "he became sin for us." And Christians have wondered at the meaning of that phrase for 2000 years. Did Jesus feel the displeasure of God? No. He could in no way feel displeasure from the God to whom he was completely obedient in all his thoughts and deeds. The question of Jesus reveals his sense of being abandoned.

It is too easy to say that God "turned his back on Jesus" at the moment of his becoming sin for us. It is truer to say, I think, that God abandoned Jesus to the consequences of his own earthly righteousness. If God is to rescue us from sin he cannot rescue his son from righteousness. God abandoned his own son to the historical consequences of a faithful, true and obedient life; men rose up and slew the righteous one and God must allow their evil intentions to be carried out to demonstrate the reality of human sin and the depth of divine love. God never ceased to love his son, but the son could not escape the reality into which he been born and the purpose of his coming.

For me, the cross exemplifies such an intimacy between Jesus and the Father that the abandonment is felt by both the son and the Father. The cross is not a picture of someone gritting his teeth and bearing agony until the bitter end, as a prisoner of war might. It is not a picture of someone going through the motions of a drama which has been written and who must play the lead part to the bitter end. It is not the picture of a martyr sacrificing himself for the good of all as the last act of a reformer's life. It is the picture of intimate love and a full revelation, even to Jesus, of the horrible conseqences of a life lived perfectly in love for the Father and in that respect the final and full revelation, even to Jesus, of the divine love of God, the God who is not willing to rescue his son from the evil world into which his son has so willingly and lovingly walked.

I can take some hope, I think, that the struggle I often feel to know God is perhaps a sure sign of my own realization of lost intimacy, surely a human condition from the Fall and also a personal experience. Had there been no God to know we would surely not miss the knowing. "He has also set eternity in the hearts of men." (Eccl. 3:11) "In the heart there is a God-shaped vacuum." (Augustine)

It has been a week since my last post and I have been blessed by comments from my two sons (one published, the other to my personal email) and someone else unknown to me. I am amazed, really, by the kindness of the responses. When I began this blog I intended for it to be theological reflections about the Evangelical movement in America. I intentionally stayed away from personal comments. I have read and heard too many self-serving testimonials in my life, full of outward praises and inward gratifications. In my preaching days, it was too easy to fall into pious platitudes of self abasement that intended on one level to bring praise to God but at another level sought praise for the preacher. I did not want to do that in this blog; hopefully I haven't. But one must always be fearful in revealing personal information, lest more attention and praise be brought to the self than to the Lord of all, who alone is worthy of praise. In the Proverbs we find the phrase: where there are many words there wanteth not for sin. However, I have been encouraged by the comments received and will continue to try to be open to whatever else I might be able to write under God's leading (to the best of my fallible discernment). Perhaps the sovereign Lord had other intentions for my blog than did I.

To catch you up to date, the journey of this past week has been for the most part very positive. There is a new-found power to confront impure thoughts and actions. But it is a moment by moment life; enough slips have occurred in me to remind me that our battles must be waged continually in the whole armor of God. While in this life we are forever subjected to the things of this world and of our minds that vie for our allegiance. It has been a source of power for me this week to continually ask myself: do you love me more than these? It is a simple question with a simple answer; at any given time we may answer in the affirmative or in the negative--and our actions reveal the true affinity of our heart.

On July 26th I wrote of a struggle and on August 9th I wrote of an encounter. This week the Lord has used the question of that encounter between Jesus and Peter to bring the struggle to an end. The question, "Do you love me more than these?" began to move within me until I was able to respond in the affirmative, perhaps for the first time in years. The "these" of my struggle is personal and does not need to be disclosed. It remains a mystery known only to God why it is that certain verses I have known my entire life began at a certain point to impact my life in a new and powerful way. I can only say that at a certain time I heard Jesus' question to Peter as if it were being asked to me. Things which I had long held dear I freely gave to God. In my life, the battle with God had narrowed to one particular problem from which I could not move forward without it being reconciled. No doubt, the struggle will re-emerge, perhaps in a new and different form, but I will be able to face it with confidence (in God) rather than defeatism. And, no doubt, new struggles will emerge as God continues to reveal more of "these" to my conscious self. I do feel, however, that this victory came not as a result of the strength of my will, nor even because I recognized the errors of my ways (something I had long realized), but simply because at a certain time and place God chose to grant me the grace to respond to him in obedience and thanksgiving. "For it is God who is at work in you both to will and to do for his good pleasure." Whoever you may be reading this, I continue to seek your prayers and thank you for all responses.

The idea of a "personal relationship" with God has never resonated with me. I can't see God, can't hear God and can't feel God. I'm not sure what is meant by the phrase, "personal relationship." In the NT we find much about obeying God, loving God, serving God and knowing God. Paul's desire to know God is challenging. In what way does one know God? My own experience has led my to believe that faith is the key to knowing God, with or without re-enforcement from the Godward side. We are to trust in God's goodness and love him regardless of our feelings and regardless of any perceived response or lack of response from God. We are to believe and trust in our salvation through the death and resurrection of Christ. My love for God is determined at any point or moment of the day by my willingness or unwillingness to respond to his unseen presence in faith and obedience. Do I love the unseen God more than I do anything seen or perceived physically or mentally? And can I remain faithful when joy does not immediately accompany my obedience? Jesus was not joyful on the cross but he endured it for the joy set before him. Some persons seem to exude joy constantly, others struggle to find it occasionally, some seem never to experience it; but none of us will experience it in its fullness until we see him in his fullness. Choosing moment by moment to follow him regardless of our feelings and regardless of material reward is our calling. "Whom having not seen we love with joy unspeakable and full of glory." Peter's experience my not always be ours but his example is worth seeking.

Peter's response to Jesus' thrice-posed question, Do you love me more than these?, is remarkable. Whether or not one takes into account the different Greek words used for the English love, or whatever one takes these to mean, Peter's affirmative response is one that perhaps no one else could in truth make. Can anyone tell Jesus that he or she loves the Lord more than these? Even more remarkable, Peter affirmed Jesus' knowledge of Peter's love for the Lord: Lord, you know that I love you. I'm afraid if I were to answer the question I would need to say: Lord, you know that I don't love you more than these. In truth, I love that which is seen more than I love the Lord, and the Lord knows that. But perhaps I haven't really heard Jesus put the question to me. Perhaps I will not hear it until I am ready to answer it in the affirmative. I have yet to learn how to love the unseen Lord more than I do the things in my world. And perhaps the reason I haven't learned to love the Lord more than these is that I don't want to hear that which comes next: feed my sheep and follow me. The Lord knows my heart and these encompasses a lot of things precious to me. The hope for any of us is that the Lord will create a clean heart in us, a heart full of love for him. This is a work of mystery and a work of grace and a work of which I am entirely incapable. This I do know: that God is able. Peter moved from the denial of his Lord to complete love for the Lord. It is a path all of us must take.

Perhaps one way of thinking about sin is to consider that all sin is in reality idolatry--giving ultimacy to something temporal. And all objective reality is temporal, whether it be a person, a thing, a relationship, an idea, a doctrine, a particular theology, a religious experience, ad infinitum. Only God, of course, is ultimate, and not simply God considered objectively as a person, but God as the Unseen Reality behind, before, and beneath all seen reality. Our sin is to make things seen ultimate rather than allowing them to point to the Unseen Reality of God. In faith the seen and experienced world serves as a sacrament to point us to God, and through which to experience God. In unfaith, or sin, we make the seen and experienced world the ultimate. In lay persons' terms, we make the things we hold in our hands and in our minds God, rather than allowing them to point us to God. "In Him we live, move and have our being." "While we look not at the things which are seen but at the things which are unseen; for the things which are seen are temporary but the things which are unseen eternal." "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." It is a mindset that faith must develop continually: ever looking beyond the seen world and all its experiences to the Unseen Reality of God.

Perhaps the time is overdue for me to add to my blog. I can only say that since my last blog I have continued to struggle with God and with his will for my life. It's almost as if I am determined to fight him every step of the way, yet hoping and praying and believing all along that he will be triumphant in my life. Laying down one's life to God must be an active and heroic undertaking, not simply an acquiescence. I have laid down my life to him countless times, only to pick it up again. This time I want to be fully conquered. Perhaps the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel is enlightening at this point. Jacob wrestled, only to lose, yet in losing he won; but in winning he carried the scar (limpness) of the battle his entire life as a reminder. The wrestling match had its purpose. If I surrender in my own power and volition then I basically retain the upper hand; i.e., I remain God to myself. If I oppose the hand of God with all my strength only to succumb then God remains God. I want the surrender to God to cost me my life.

In all my training and most of my life I have thought that fellowship with God was something that could be precipitated by my faithful seeking. "Seek the Lord while he may be found." I have more recently been forced to discover that fellowship is a gift which God bestows at his pleasure. I had supposed that God could always be found. But what if he hides himself? What if the time comes when he cannot be found? No amount of Bible reading or prayer can uncover his presence. God reveals himself to whom he so desires at a time when he decides. We cannot find him by force of self or will. But we can faithfully wait in patience and hope, "looking unto Him, the author and finisher of our faith." And if and when God makes himself accessible for fellowship again it will be sweeter than before and it will be cherished as never before. "Every good and perfect give cometh from above." However God deals with me he remains Lord. According to Job, "though he slay me yet will I praise him."

Teach me, Lord, how to die. And to wait for joy from you rather than trying to create it through my own efforts. And if it doesn't come, to die to it as well. Teach me to approach you, not as a companion, but as Master. Not to approach you as an alter ego by vain babblings falsely thought to be prayer, but as Lord, one other than myself to whom I approach in fear and trembling.

Committing oneself to the historical life of Jesus incorporates not only following the teachings of Jesus but also emulating his faith in God in the circumstances in which he found himself. Jesus committed himself to God within the historical framework of his earthly existence because he trusted that God was active within that framework. The devil's temptation to Jesus was to escape the historical process through miraculous intervention, which Jesus declined to do. God was in the process, not out of it or above it. Jesus trusted in a God active in redemptive purpose within the historical sphere. Only with this kind of faith could Jesus submit himself to God at Gethsemane, wherein and upon the cross he suffered the historical consequences of his faithful life. Resurrection vindicated his faithful submission to God.

Likewise, the church's mission is to commit itself to history in faith that God is active in the historical sphere. In Paul's words, we are "co-laborers" with God. The escapist mentality that too often characterizes evangelical preaching is foreign to the faith of Jesus. And large churches with every conceivable facility and comfort providing a safe haven for Christians contradicts the teaching and faith of Jesus. We are go into the world, not escape from it. We have sent the wrong kind of message to a suffering world: rather than entering into the suffering with faith in the redemptive purpose of God we have fled from it.

We are called to look for and perceive by faith the redemptive hand of God in every human experience. This does not mean that every experience is the will and purpose of God but rather that God is redemptively active even in the worst of evil. "For this reason we do not lose hope." It is in cooperating with God redemptively amidst the slime of human history that we find the joy of our calling--"who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising its shame."

It is tempting at times to revert back to a more Harnackian approach. Harnack, in his Essence of Christianity, asserted that the true faith of Jesus had been corrupted by Paul to a faith in Jesus. Harnack's description of true Christianity was that of the "Fatherhood of God and brotherhood of man." However, one can not so easily dismiss the origins of the church, whose faith in the resurrected Jesus undergirded its existence. There would be no Christianity today without the earliest church's belief in the resurrection of Jesus and in the cross which the resurrection vindicated. However, as I have stated previously, the evangelical church especially is too prone to separate Jesus' death and resurrection from the historical life of Jesus, without which the death and resurrection would have had no meaning. Jesus died as a result of the life he lived and for that reason his life must be included as a necessary component of the entire salvation event.

I cannot claim the salvific importance of Jesus' death and resurrection for myself without committing myself to the life of Jesus as the example for Christian life and faith. This is the existential aspect for the Christian faith which all too often is lacking in our evangelical experience and preaching. The important question for me as I begin each day is not simply, "Am I a Christian?" but rather, "Do I want to be a Christian today?"

The only truly religious act in history was the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Holy Jesus in holy faithfulness presented himself to a holy God. For this reason all other religious acts (so-called) are false and idolatrous. In comparison to the one truly religious act of Jesus everything else is, in the word of Paul, dung. Unfortunately, the church through the ages has made much use of the dung. The challenge in any era is to celebrate the mighty act of God in Christ without the celebration, its effects, its character and its promulgation becoming the focus. How can we offer thanksgiving to God without the thanksgiving becoming a religious act? How can we worship God without the worship itself becoming a religious act of merit? Perhaps the answer to these questions lies somewhere in the relationship between the Gospels and Paul. The religious significance of the death and resurrection of Christ found in the writings of Paul must be balanced by the judgment against religion found in the Gospels.

Indeed, both aspects of the gospel are found in both the Gospels and in Paul. Paul's emphasis on the death of Jesus as sacrifice is found within Paul's many ethical admonitions and also Paul's recognition of religion's bankruptcy (as mentioned above). Jesus's ethical admonitions are found within his willingness to suffer the baptism of death in historical faithfulness in consequence of his righteous life. The church's call to faithfulness cannot exclude the historical life of Jesus in its rush to celebrate the salvific effects of his death and resurrection. "Being saved" cannot be simply a doctrinal affirmation but must incorporate the recognition and affirmation of existential willingness to follow Jesus in our own historical sphere. I am a Christian, not simply when I believe something, but when I desire to follow the teachings of Jesus.

For this reason I must continually question the right to call myself a Christian. And when the church better understands this existential aspect of the Christian faith the church may in fewer numbers become more effective in the work of Christ and in revealing the power of God on earth.

In addressing the question of our traditional evangelical emphasis on the writings of Paul Barth would probably say that we don't emphasize the true Paul enough. Barth would remind us that Paul's qualitative distinction between God and man, between the righteousness of God and the sinfulness of man, is not sufficiently appreciated. He would remind us of the utter futility of religion in its attempt to reach or please God. But the Pauline interpretation of the evangelical community neglects these principles and turns Paul on his head by making faith a work that "cooperates" with the saving grace of God. The "otherness" of God is lost in today's rush to a practical religion that "meets the needs" of the saints and provides a safe transport to heaven.

My point is that the emphasis in the evangelical community on the writings of Paul is appropriate for the sake of continuity with the earliest church but inappropriate in its misinterpretation of his writings. In Paul we find the death of religion's power (Philippians 3) in the power of the resurrected Jesus. The crucified and resurrected Jesus spells the end of religion's efficacy. The question remains: if religion's power has been dethroned what communal form should it take? This is the question today's church must struggle to address. Religion quickly becomes its own end with doctrine and polity shaped to perpetuate its existence and the apparent flourishing of its existence (superchurches) becomes the validation of its approach.

Before addressing the questions previously posed I have a few more personal reflections to share. It is becoming increasingly apparent to me that I simply cannot love God more dearly by effort. I am reminded of P.T. Forsyth's observation that preachers often ask listeners to do that which they simply cannot do. Sermons replete with admonitions to love God more, pray more fervently, be more obedient, etc., drive paritioners either to despair, repeated confessions of guilt, or to finding false solace in religious affirmations that cover the deeper problems of human sin.

But neither am I simply passive in my relationship with God. There is a mysterious symbiotic relationship with God that cannot be fully expressed or explained. Often I do not respond to God's promptings as I think I should; at other times I am moved towards him seemingly without effort at all--I simply discover that I am in a different place than previously. Faith rejoices at such times of discovery because there is the full recognition that no human effort was involved.

These discoveries re-enforce my growing belief that the church needs to be less practical in its approach. God cannot be found through effort, nor through the application of improved techniques. He can only be sought. God alone decides when and how to reveal himself to the human soul.

It has been nearly three months since my last blog. It has been a period of darkness in my soul as I have struggled with the requirements in time and energy from a new job. It is a re-discovery of the difficulty we face of putting into practice the truths we may hold intellectually. I hope that I am once again sensing the Lord's leadership but cannot know myself well enough to be certain. Time alone will tell. If I continue the blog I think it will be with the attempt to construct more fully a description of the shape and form the modern church needs to seek. Just what did Jesus really intend? Is the primacy of Paul legitimate? Or do we need to find a way to incorporate more fully the Gospel accounts into our perspective? Is there a way to escape the grip of institutionalism? Can Jesus be followed in a way less dependent on institutional structures? How would Jesus react to today's church? Would he say something like, "This is not at all what I had in mind. You have simply replaced the old with a new form. Although the words have changed from the old the substance is essentially the same--that of attempting to please God through religious means." More to come, I think.

If the call to military might from the religious right is incongruous with the Christian message then the call to justice around the world from the religious left rings hollow. How easy it is to call for justice from a position of comfort. American churches will not have power to confront the world's justice problems until they call their own people to personal sacrifice. American churches will begin to have true authority around the world when they are willing to have less for themselves. Wealthy people may contribute, but they cannot wield true spiritual authority to those who are starving.

From the right there is the problem of arrogance. From the left there is the problem of smugness. But neither side is willing to confront the problem of plenty because it would cost too much of its constituents and threaten too severely the status quo of the religious establishment. It's too easy to preach justice issues for others while ignoring the greatest justice issue of all: that we are unwilling to help others until our own needs and wants are fully met. The world does not and should not listen to us until we are willing to give up our right to plenty.

The Allied victory in WWII rid the world of Hitler's threat. I suspect also that it helped provide fodder for today's apparent mindset that military force is the answer to all evil. We live in a very militaristic society, witness the tank or airplane along the roadside in front of the National Guard armory, or the thrilling display of power as the Air Force Thunderbirds fly overhead, or the oohs and aahs of the crowd when the roar of a B-52 flyover stuns the senses. Do Christians ever stop to think that these are killing machines? Do we really think that God thrills at the display of our military might?

I suspect that pre-WWII Americans would be surprised at present-day American willingness and even eagerness to rely on military power. Americans were drug kicking and screaming into WWII but today seem all too ready to fly the flag with military might wherever in our world threats to our existence seem to emerge.

I am not a pacifist in the strict sense of the word. I do believe, however, that American Christians have been all too willing to accept militarism as a way of life and as the means to be protected from all evil. Someone once said that even as the cross was God's supreme revelation so war is the supreme revelation of human evil. When entered it should be with great sorrow and humility. Christians for too long have gloried, not in the cross, but in American military might.

The turn to a more personal aspect of writing in recent blogs was not intentional. From the first I intended that the blog not be about me. But, of course, any writing is as much about the author as it is about the subject being addressed. It is embarrassing in some ways to write about oneself but I have purposed from the beginning to write "as the Lord leads;" and if it means at this time revealing further my inner wanderings and discoveries then I can only hope and even believe that there is a greater purpose being served, either toward the furtherance of my own healing or in the lives of others.

In reading Nouwen, especially, I am discovering that much of my life has been lived in selfishness. It is a sad commentary on my life that after almost 30 years in ministerial training and service I am only now coming to this conclusion. I cannot blame it on the evangelicals. I'm certain I heard enough good sermons and preached enough good ones myself to have been convicted long before now of my inherent selfishness.

What I am discovering with greater depth than before is the mystery of evil. If I were to offer a challenge to evangelicals in particular it would be to gain a greater appreciation (the word seems ironic here) for the scope, depth, and mystery of evil. "The heart is deceitful above all things; who can know it?" Often we are encouraged to forsake known sins; and this should be done whenever they become known. But what about the unknown? The inner forces that drive us? The unrecognized longings that control us?

As Luther discovered, just to confess what is known would take every moment of every day and still would not be sufficient because even the motive for confessing is tainted with unknown sin. The answer lies, not with simplistic propositional prayers of confession, but with the awareness that comes with true faith that only in the mystery of God's grace can we live in hope with the mystery of evil. My repentance is never complete and my confession is never perfect; only if my repentance and confession has been generated by the Spirit of God is it acceptable to God, and then not because of its completeness but because of God's desire to cleanse and forgive.

Even with the discovery of my selfishness it is very possible for me to turn the discovery itself to selfish ends. If God has revealed to me at this point the further depths of my own sinfulness then my hope and prayer is that he will use what is revealed to me to make me further into his image. Any other unknown selfish motives I may have I can only offer to God in the blood of Christ with thanksgiving.

Evangelicals preach a great deal about sin. But, much like the Pharisees in Jesus' day, it too often refers to outward acts. The result of such preaching is the glossing over of the real sinful problem within with religious language. Even with the greatest of intentions such preaching leads to the emergence of "whitewashed sepulchers" within the community. Bonhoeffer, of course, called it "cheap grace." Such preaching does not reach or expose our real sin problem; it covers it. Evangelical arrogance, and a host of other visible sins, results.

I must give thanks to my counselor, who this past week introduced me to the concept of the void. For me, just giving a name to this interior longing helped a great deal by helping me see that my condition is not unique and that in not recognizing its presence I sought through different means to satisfy it. My niece and also my counselor mentioned Henri Nouwen as one who wrote of this concept and I think Kierkegaard's writings also make room for it. Perhaps it is a way for me simply to learn to face life in a way that I hadn't before, finding that in all life there is a certain unsatisfied longing that persists even through the most uplifting religious experiences. I always felt ashamed that I didn't seem to "feel" what others apparently felt and wondered what deep fault lay within me.

I believe this concept of void, or emptiness, or longing, is compatible with New Testament teaching in which we are reminded that we are not now what we one day shall be in eternity (I Cor. 13). Surely Jesus did not experience full joy until after the cross ("for the joy set before him endured the cross") and neither shall we until the day of resurrection. Our faith is a means of recognizing the void for what it really is: a sign of our incompleteness, finitude, and fallenness. By such faith then we are able to take our cross and bear it through the void of life in sure hope that one day we shall be complete. Faith accepts reality through confidence in God. Much of our conservative and evangelical religion unfortunately leads us into denial and pretense, and ever increasing means of substitutes are needed in an attempt to fill the void.

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." (Romans 5:22-25) "Waiting for it patiently" is, I believe, bearing our cross.

How can we live without The Rescue? When the void inside of humans is mentioned one thinks immediately of Augustine: in every heart there is a God-shaped vacuum. But what if God enters the void, not to fill it, but to bring a cross? What then? Joy! Joy never comes but with a cross: " for the joy set before him he endured the cross." "Count it all joy, brethren, when you encounter various trials." It is not from the void that we are rescued but within it. To follow Christ is to bear his cross into the void. Faith accepts the void as part of our fallen, human condition; unfaith seeks to be rescued from it in a multitude of ways. Escaping the void is what much fundamentalist and evangelical preaching is all about, but in escaping the void, one also escapes discipleship. Only by walking with Jesus through the void can true joy be found. Much of what modern evangelical American churches offer are means whereby the void can be filled; consequently they have to offer more and more. Because the void can never be filled in this life; it can only be suppressed through varieties of religious experience and activity. It will always re-emerge. Only by embracing it through the cross of Christ can true joy be found. Only in our acceptance of the pangs of finitude do we rejoice in the eternal victory of Christ's cross.

In contemporary Evangelical worship there seem to be two major streams: the intellectual and the ecstatic. The intellectual stream discloses God by providing a correct understanding of him. The ecstatic stream discloses God by feeling. The intellectual stream says too much about God; the ecstatic stream feels God too much. Both streams bypass faith, the true nature of which contradicts our experience rather than confirms it. Faith is not accepting true statements about God; nor is faith feeling God's presence. Faith affirms a God I cannot understand and affirms a God I cannot feel. The great loss in both streams is the sense of mystery and awe. If I understand God there is no mystery remaining. If I feel God there is no mystery remaining. The only mystery left is to seek more and more understanding and to seek to feel more and more. Both streams, in attempting to make God immediate to either our understanding or our feelings, loses God, who in truth is not understandable nor feelable. What we understand is a construct of our minds and what we feel are our emotions. Neither offer true transformation because in neither have we moved outside of ourselves. As a result, lives following the worship experience continue to be shaped by the culture which is experienced outside the sphere of worship, no matter how "wonderful' the worship experience may have been.

That which is said about God in worship and that which is experienced must leave room for that which cannot be said and that which cannot be experienced. It is this sense of "otherness" which will stay with us outside the doors.

In my own experience I attempted to fill the void in my life through inappropriate means that eventually took on an addictive life of their own. My pietistic background insisted that the void be filled with greater devotion. My evangelical background insisted that the void be eliminated through discipline and correct understanding. Both methods were attempts of rescue and ended in failure. No amount of devotion could fill the void for long and no doctrine, no matter how "correct," could extinguish its presence. Devotion left me empty after the devotional aura had passed; doctrine simply covered the void with religious plating. The void remained and eventually filled itself.

A true application of the cross brings acceptance of the void as a very real, inherent part of the human condition in its finitude. The void is not to be filled or covered but endured as an integral part of my human condition. This is bearing the cross. The void cannot be escaped, not can I be rescued from it. However, in the grace of God I can enter its domain and endure its pervasiveness in the strength of the cross. Jesus is my example and his cross is my victory. The cross he bore in life was his existence in the midst of fallen humanity, a cross he bore in faithfulness to his heavenly Father. It ended in a literal cross with saving import to all who follow him. He experienced no rescue from the cross of life or the cross of Golgotha. Resurrection vindicated his faithful human existence.

The rescue offered by Evangelicals does not rescue but further deepens the condition in which its adherents find themselves. Consequently, it has to be repeated again and again. The Evangelical cross of rescue relieves the believer from that very condition he or she needs to encounter. Salvation is in name only; the condition remains, only more deeply submerged beneath the religious rhetoric. The message of the cross is lost amid the euphoric panacea of the moment. Evangelicals will one day weary with all the rescue attempts and deplete themselves of all rescue materials. Perhaps at that point they will once again be driven to the cross.

Salvation as rescue is at the heart of the Evangelical message: rescue from sin, rescue from self, rescue from damnation, etc. However, the salvation of Jesus was and is a salvation of suffering, i.e., the cross. He was not rescued from suffering; he was rescued in it and through it. That is not to say that we cannot have joy in our suffering; it is to say that we cannot have joy apart from it. For Evangelicals, the rescue motif results in an ever-increasing need for further rescue; soon the cross is not enough--it only rescues from sin. Rescue is then needed from boredom, inactivity, want, lack of fulfillment, prayerlessness, the demonic, addiction, a hostile environment, and on and on ad nauseam. The Evangelical church is forced to provide an ever-widening sphere of rescue ministries which effectively take believers out of their own historical spheres of struggle and suffering; sin is submerged, but not confronted, beneath an external euphoria of relgious platitudes. They, and the church as well, eventually become separated from themselves and from the very world they are to evangelize; hence, their impotence in the face of sinful culture. Jesus' cross is not borne in one's personal experience of cross--the only message that will communicate effectively to a dying and suffering world. Rather, the cross of Jesus becomes a metaphor for freedom from self, suffering, responsibility, and the world. In other words, it becomes a symbol with no experiential content. It is a flag carried by those who espouse its victory but who refuse to share in its battle. The salvation of Jesus is bearing the cross on all one's aspirations, in the midst of one's sufferings, in the face of our sinful side and its consequences, with the hope and faith that the cross alone is sufficient. The cross does not rescue us from ourselves or our historical context; it takes us further within where transformation takes place. American culture needs a penetrating, transforming cross, not a cross external to it, safely distanced in religious garb and jargon.

Back to historical inevitability for a moment. The inevitability of the cross was due to the historical presence of righteousness in the midst of human sin. And Jesus faced the inevitable clash through his faith in God. He never used his miraculous powers to extricate himself from difficulty. His victory at the temptation was the victory of faith over divine intervention. The kingdom of God had come in him and it was not self-serving. He did not expect, nor did he ask for, miraculous rescue up to and including the cross. Historically, the cross was a result of a faith-lived existence. How different from the message heard weekly in evangelical pulpits in which the implication is made that God will deliver us from our human difficulties. The example of Jesus was to trust in a God to be with him through the difficulties. He was not even rescued from a cross; why do we expect such rescue? To Jesus, the blessing of God was God's presence, not God's provision of abundant earthly provisions or God's deliverance from the consequences of righteousness in the midst of sin. If Christians of our culture are able to enjoy the abundance of material possessions it is not due to God's blessing but rather the fact that we are fortunate enough to live in a country and era of extreme abundance. It may not be so forever, nor is it so in much of the world. And was our righteousness more like the righteousness of Jesus we no doubt would encounter more of the opposition he faced instead of our cozy relationship with current culture.

Jesus' call to radical discipleship has been tamed by the Evangelical emphasis on a cross divorced from that which preceded and effected it. It is much simpler and easier to accept the benefits of the cross, especially if the "plan" is presented in a propositional manner that offers heaven for a reward. Who doesn't want to go to heaven? The Evangelical gospel does not bring judgment on our desire for self fulfillment but rather promises to enable it. Self interest is not transformed by the power of this gospel but rather given its legitimacy. But not only the Evangelicals are guilty of appropriating blessings without cost. One must sincerely ask if any of us in the religious community truly desires to follow Christ. His life was one without ownership, rights, privileges, comfort, possessions, or sizable following. It seems the only gratification he sought was to "always do those things which please the Father." Obedience was its own reward. His only recourse was to entrust himself to his Father. There was no safety net for Jesus in the form of earthly inheritance or monetary gain from the message he preached or the life he lived. What an irony that so many become so comfortable and wealthy in the name of the impoverished Jesus and that the Evangelical church, especially, sees no contradiction between its lavish existence and the extreme poverty of the one they claim to follow.

The substitutionary meaning of the cross cannot be overly emphasized. However, without its equally important counterpart of our sharing in the cross of Christ the result is the "cheap grace" of which Bonhoeffer so eloquently wrote. Paul's affirmation of this principle is found in his statement, "I am crucified with Christ." Surely this statement by Paul does not simply refer to our mystical union with Christ in his death and resurrection but also our moral union with his cross. The denial of self is as integral to our Christian understanding of the cross as is its vicarious aspect. We cannot glory in what Christ has done for us without identifying with him in our lives. We cannot have his cross without ours. Christ died for us and we choose to be crucified with him. The consequence for us, and for Evangelicals, is that all our aspirations, goals, hopes, desires, affections must suffer the judgment of the cross. It is a difficult message to preach, and even more difficult to live, and thus far Evangelicals have shied from its embrace. In so doing they have distanced themselves from the cross they so ardently preach. The result is a message which lacks power to transform and society remains oblivious.

"A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Christians of every age must struggle to find the true Jesus and not the Jesus compatible with current cultural mores. Have not Evangelicals neglected a significant aspect of Jesus' historical ministry in favor of a Jesus in keeping with American ideals and success? The Jesus Evangelicals preach is quite comfortable with success, riches and comfort because these qualities epitomize the American world view. Where is the Jesus of suffering? of struggle? the Jesus who challenges and brings judgment on contemporary thinking and way of life? The Evangelical Jesus exists to legitimize our nationalistic and cultural ideals. The suffering Jesus does not appeal to our sentiments because we have not chosen to suffer. The Jesus who immortalizes the widow and her mite does not appeal to our right of material possessions and abundance. The Jesus who identified with the dispossessed does not appeal to our decision to ignore certain "unfortunate" levels of society. The message of Jesus has been sacrificed on the altar of success and apparent success has become the measure of God's blessing. Indeed, what Jesus are Evangelicals following--the biblical Jesus or the Jesus of our own contemporary creation? Evangelical Christians have become so identified with American culture that they no longer can be identified apart from it. The suffering servant is as foreign to modern Christians has it was to first century Jews. Consequently, the cross has been made of no effect, much as it became a "stumbling block" to early Jews. We cannot continue to preach the cross while ignoring its meaning for our lives.

A return to Reformation devotion is needed more than a return to Reformation doctrine. Doctrine without devotion is dead and leads to the continual need for churches to fill up our lives with activities and instruction. Busy Americans have lost the art of personal devotion and the church contributes to the demise by offering more and more 'opportunities for service' to fill up empty lives.

Rather than inviting the people to a Bible study on Monday night let the church encourage the people to have one in their homes. Rather than inviting the people to a session on prayer on Tuesday night let the church invite the people to learn to pray by praying in their homes. Rather than inviting the people to instruction on Christian finances on Wednesday night let the church encourage the people to commit their finances to the Lord. Rather than inviting the people to a session on witnessing on Thursday night let the church encourage the people to live their lives in witness to their Saviour. Rather than inviting the people to a coffee house ministry on Friday night let the church encourage the people to spend time with their lost friends, even if at the bar and grill. Rather than inviting the people to a picnic on Saturday let the church encourage the people to spend time with their families.

In time, Christians who have learned to depend on the organized church to fill their every need will begin to learn to trust in God again. At the root of American emptiness and the need for constant nurturing is the loss of personal devotion. Christians cannot grow up in Christ by attending sessions, seminars, activities, and even Bible studies led by others. They must be challenged and encouraged to find God in their own times of quiet devotion and prayer. The church cannot do this for them and must cease in its efforts to control every aspect of the believer's life. God is quite capable of developing his own disciples when the church is willing to allow God the space in people's lives to do so. Or might the church be afraid to do so for fear of losing control and the signs of success that go with it?