What to do with the Mary Mother of Jesus?

There is growing interest in Mary the mother of Jesus among Protestants. I think it's a great thing as she is truly an example to other disciples of her Son. There is a very readable book on Mary coming out in November from Paraclete Press by Scot McKnight. He is an evangelical New Testament scholar.

Here is a link to a sample chapter of the book. You can check out Paraclete Press' website for deals on purchasing the whole book.

Give it a read! Let me hear what you're thinking! There will be a discussion group for the book in early December--around the time of the release of "The Nativity" in local theatres. Let me know if you're interested.

Aaron

Monday Morning Remix: The Secret to Fruitfulness

esterday Pastor Gary talked about Three Steps to Fruitfulness:
1. Identify the thorns in your life;
2. Make a lifelong commitment to God's ways;
3. Make wise and firm decisions for righteousness.

The longevity aspect of fruitfulness is what struck me most. I most appreciated Pastor Gary's phrase: "God is committed to your future." Let a hopeless theology junkie talk theology for a moment. One recent idea for theology is to describe God as inhabiting the future, drawing the present into his future. God is committed to our futures because God is at work in the present--even when it seems like he is not. He is at work in the present to draw together his HUGE PLAN of SALVATION. Thanks, Pastor Gary, for reminding me of that!

Any other thoughts? What stood out for you? What did God bring to mind for you?

Monday Morning Remix: The Story of Scripture

Yesterday we took a huge picture look at Scripture. It broke Scripture down as a play into six scenes (I get this picture mainly from N.T. Wright, whose commentaries I recommend highly):

I. Creation
II. Fall
III. Israel
IV. Jesus
V. Church
VI. New Creation

I think the part that frequently hits me when I think big picture like this is God's ability to weave together so many different elements. He takes things that are shortcomings and weaves them into a beautiful picture. Matthew 1, of course, is a good reminder. In chapter 1, Matthew tells Jesus' genealogy and includes four women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Uriah's wife (Bathsheba).

All of these women have negative elements to their stories. Tamar is a widow. Her father in law, Judah, does not give her his third son as was the custom so that she could have children who would care for her. So, she pretends to be a prostitute and sleeps with Judah. (All recorded in Genesis 38.) Their child, Perez, becomes an ancestor of Jesus.

Rahab is a prostitute in Jericho who hides two spies from the Israelites and who is spared as a result. (Joshua 2 and 6.)

Ruth is an early widow. (Book of Ruth.)

Bathsheba is the woman David committed adultery with and whose husband, Uriah, was killed to cover up the sin. (2 Samuel 11.)

All of these women play a role in the birth of Jesus through his history. They all have terrible aspects to their lives. Gives another picture of how big salvation can be, eh?

Any other thoughts?

Monday Morning Remix: Three Relational Killjoys

Let me give a quick recap of the sermon yesterday:
There are three relational killjoys that can be counteracted:
1. Selfishness is a killjoy that can be countered with giving;
2. Resentment is a killjoy that can be countered with focusing on healing;
3. Fear is a killjoy that can be countered with focusing on God's power.


I appreciated the focus on the positive aspect of salvation. Too many times we focus on the negative instead of building up the positive and focusing on the GOOD NEWS of salvation and seeing how extensive it really is.

Any thoughts on the sermon from anyone else?

Monday Morning Remix: God's Extreme Makeover

Yesterday Pastor Gary talked about God's Extreme Makeover. He talked about the wholistic makeover God intends for all of us.

Three issues surrounding the makeover were:

1. A heart that is renewed daily.
2. A heart that is grateful for his grace.
3. A heart that takes delight in being just like the Father.

What stuck out most to me was Pastor Gary's thought on salvation: God is looking for you before we even consider Him. This is one of the pillars of John Wesley's thought on salvation: God is at work before we have ever thought about God. (He called it "prevenient grace" which just means, "Grace that goes before....") Amazing to think that God is working on our behalf in situations that we haven't even thought about yet! Amazing that God is "making over" individuals who may not have stepped in a church door, prayed, or even thought about God!

Any other thoughts on the sermon?

Monday Morning Remix: Matt. 11:1-15

On Sunday, Matt. 11:1-15 was presented to our community as God's challenge to us to develop ears that hear when confronted with the unexpected.

Let me summarize the message:
>For John the Baptist, he was confronted with Jesus living out an unexpected form of Kingship (or, an unexpected way of being the Christ or Messiah).

>Jesus confronted the crowds with the unexpected nature of the Kingdom of God: Even its greatest prophets, who announce the coming of the LORD, are not as great as the least in the Kingdom of God.

>For my friend Brandon, he was confronted with the unexpected employment of roofing, away from church ministry.

>All of them had to face God's challenge to develop ears that hear. Would John stick with this Messiah and be blessed (11:6)? Would the crowds accept the presence of God in their midst in the form of a seemingly powerless prophet (11:14)? Would Brandon hear the call of God to be light in a dark community?

What resonated with you? What other takes are there on this passage? What confrontations with the unexpected have you had that would be appropriate to share?

Introducing Monday Morning Remix

Scripture reading must be a communal effort. Talking with Jim Crenshaw yesterday, he suggested doing a post-sermon response. I have tried engaging with more people prior to the sermon, but his suggestion will hopefully close the circle: The sermon will be formed by and then considered by our community as a community. In my opinion, the sermon should be an introduction of God's Word to our community that we then dialogue and work through over the remaining week. Rather than the spiritual week ending on Sunday, let's pray we can recover Sunday as the beginning of the week and God's Word being that which sustains us all week.

So, here's the first installment of Monday Morning Remix, the opportunity to kick around, think through, disagree, affirm, implicate, etc. God's Word that was brought on Sunday. Too many efforts in Scripture reading have been dragged down by being overly serious and (gasp!) boring. The main rule for this effort is to have fun! :)

Aaron

Forms of Opposition

Mark 14 records the story of a woman pouring perfume on Jesus and those present griping in response--"That perfume should have been sold and money given to the poor!". Jesus, instead, highlights the kind of love that is unconsidered, abandoned, and thereby wasteful--the woman has done a beautiful thing, he says. What I find most interesting about this story is that it takes place in the home of Simon the Leper (and in the town called Bethany, which in Hebrew means, "house of the poor and afflicted"). Those following Jesus were more than willing to associate with the down and outers--in a town whose name reflected its plight (perhaps), and in the home of a person known for being, at one point, at least, a leper. But they complained at people not associating with the poor in the ways they thought they should be doing.

What is most interesting about this story is that it is the point of Judas' betrayal. John offers commentary in his replay of the story by saying that Judas left because he was a thief, not because he cared for the poor (John 12:4-6). Mark, however, has only noted the griping of some who were present (Mark 14:4). Whatever Judas' motives were in betrayal, he found (on the surface, at least) solidarity with those who had become hyper-zealous in love, and thereby considered, attached, and extremely practical/efficient in their love.

Two forms of opposition--one secretly selfish, the other explicitly selfless.

I suppose this helps me understand why Jesus lays out the Kingdom of God by telling stories. The Kingdom of God is centered around Jesus, centered around, as Paul says in Rom. 13, the debt of love. Love takes many forms--it tells lots of different stories.

Enjoying a hidden Christ

A couple weeks ago I posted on the hidden nature of Jesus because of the ascension. Acts 1:9 records that Jesus was taken up before the disciples very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. The hidden nature of Christ after the ascension is somewhat hard to make sense of. Matthew promises that where two or three are gathered, there Christ is as well. But John says that the Spirit cannot come until Christ ascends. There is a paradox of his absence and presence. Most of the time we consider the benefit of Christ to be his presence--however we make sense of it: for discipleship/sanctification; worship; communion; joy/peace/etc. However, I believe that his absence holds benefit, as well. Colossians 3 records Paul's exhortation to live the resurrection life: Set our hearts on the realm of heaven where Christ reigns ("is seated," 3:1, via the ascension). Because we died to the "world," we can live the resurrection in the world (where else can we live it?). Yet such living is dangerous; it got this letter's author killed. Yet Paul says that our life is hidden with Christ in God (v. 3) and that when Christ appears (now being hidden) we will also appear with him in glory--because he is our life. The resurrection life--life lived in the realm of the reigning Messiah--appears for all to see.

God protects the resurrection life in the hidden Messiah. As much as Christ is present, he brings change, spurs worship, and unites us. As much as he is hidden, we are protected. How upside down! The absent King is our protection!

The Ascension

First, my apologies for being silent on this blog for so long! I'll try to do better...if anyone cares to check this out! This past Thursday was Ascension Day. I put this in my church's bulletin. Thoughts and comments are welcome!

What's the Ascension?
This past Thursday was the day Christians celebrate the Ascension of Jesus. For many of us, two questions come to mind: First, “What’s the Ascension?” Second, “What does it matter?”

The event of Jesus being taken up to God the Father after his resurrection, hidden from our sight, is the Ascension (Luke 24:50-53; Acts 1:1-11). At first it seems that not much attention is given to the Ascension, that it’s unimportant. It may just seem like it’s the small account of how Jesus left earth. But there’s more to it! Whenever you read about Jesus being at God’s right hand or being seated in the heavenlies, the ascension is how and why he gets to be there. This is why Christians celebrate it! The ascension puts Jesus in charge! It puts him “high up.”

So, why does the ascension matter? Hebrews 1:3 says that after Jesus provided purification for our sins, he sat down at God’s right hand. He is God’s Man. Hebrews goes on to say that we don’t see everything under Jesus; it doesn’t always seem like Jesus is in charge (2:8). But, even if we don’t see everything under Jesus, we see Jesus crowned with glory (2:9). “Wait a second,” you’re thinking. “Acts 1:9 says that after the Ascension Jesus was hidden from the disciples’ sight. How can we both see him and him be hidden?”

Great question! Think of it like this. Once day I was listening to a ball game with my Dad. The outfielder dropped the ball because the sun was bright—shining in his eyes. My Dad said, “Isn’t it neat to think that the outfielder in Colorado is blinded by the same sun that we see right there?” I thought about that…and it was profound! Though located thousands of miles from the outfielder, we both saw the same sun because it was so high up and so big. But sometimes you can’t see the sun. Maybe it’s hidden behind clouds, it’s nighttime, or there’s an eclipse: something comes between you and the sun. Because the sun is so high there is room for something to come between you and the sun. It’s similar to Jesus. Because Jesus is so high up, because he is Ascended, Christians from all over the world can see and know him. But because he is so “high up” he can be hidden, perhaps by sin, suffering, troubles, or maybe just how we’re feeling! What do we make of this?

Does Jesus being “high up” mean he is absent? No, it means that Christians don’t have to pretend that we have no problems, but still know that, because of the ascension, Jesus is in charge.

Hidden? Yes. Absent? No. In charge? Absolutely!

Resurrection projects

We have just come through Lent and Easter and are reminded of God's faithfulness to his King, Jesus. Sometimes we limit what resurrection means to be "life after death." But the New Testament writers saw much more to it than that. It meant physical, genuine, vibrant life. It meant living in that new life of resurrection even before you're resurrected. The resurrection of Jesus changes the entire universe--not just what happens when we die.

We are now called to be people who live out resurrection today. What would we do differently if we knew the entire universe has been changed? What would it mean to store up treasures in heaven in a world that already bears the marks of resurrection? Paul gives us a hint in 1 Cor. 3. There he says that if we have built on the foundation of Jesus--if we have worked at projects that witness to resurrection--that our work will last. Our work will survive. It will not just pass away, but will stand the test of resurrection.

The question is not whether or not your job can witness to resurrection--it almost certainly can. The question is how you can think and work to witness to resurrection in the place you work. Nurses, engineers, gas pump attendants, even (NOT especially) pastors can witness to resurrection in what they do. What's your resurrection project?

Simple Texts and Lent, Reflection Four

The point of Lent is to draw us into the demeanor of Jesus on his road to Calvary. It is to enable us to identify more closely with the suffering of Jesus so that we can better grasp the glory of his resurrection. The despair of the former is only exceeded by the rapture of the latter--and we can only appreciate the one with the other; they are inseparable. The texts that I want to reflect on this week are from John. John 4 records the woman at the well who, in her shame, has come to the well in isolation to draw water. To her, Jesus offers living water--fresh water. In verses 13-14, Jesus says, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." With this in mind it becomes remarkably surprising that John 19:28 records Jesus, from the cross, saying, "Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, 'I am thirsty.'"

How could the one who offers living water that will quench all thirst himself be thirsty? I believe this shows the inseparable nature of God's glory from his crucifixion; of Jesus' death and his resurrection. Jesus has said words recorded of those in exile from God. On the cross Jesus experiences the broken relationship of the Christ being forsaken by his God--the very broken relationship of Israel and her God when she is in exile. Thirst is the description of being away from God. By thirsting Jesus is saying more than his tongue is dry; he is saying he is away from God and identifies with humanity. But never forget that he offers living water--water that shows the restoration of relationship. This is somewhat paradoxical, of course, but John never shies away from paradox. That is why he records Jesus' words: "When I am lifted up (on the cross), I will draw all people to myself." The thirsty God is the one who knows how meaningful living water becomes.

Lent shows us the paradox of a Thirsty God. Only in remembering the thirst of Christ from his position on the cross can we again taste the freshness of the living water he offers. Lent invites us into the thirst.

Subtle Texts and Lent: Volume Three of Reflections on Lent

Well, we've looked at Surprising Texts and Strange Texts and now I want to look at Subtle Texts in connection with Lent. As is the case with most Subtle Texts, it takes someone else to point it out to you, so today's reflection is surely not my own. (It comes from the blog of a prof/friend of mine.) Also, to follow Beth C.'s lead in emphasizing dialogue and working out mission through the text together, I only ask the questions...we need to arrive at the answers together. Anyway, here's the reflection.

In chapter 4, Luke records Jesus' temptation and rejection in Nazareth and work in Capernaum. In Capernaum, in the temple, no less, Jesus drives out the demon first recorded by Luke. Could it be that Luke puts this account of Jesus' work for God's Kingdom in the temple because we too often focus on where the Kingdom isn't coming in other areas to the neglect of our own? Could it be that Luke is putting the issue in the face of those who were to embody God's Kingdom most accurately--those in the temple? Are there those needing the power of God's kingdom on the doorstep of our own church?

It becomes quite easy for us to think of people in our own lives who we need to minister to...but most of the time that ministry burns out quickly. We are not meant to achieve God's Kingdom on our own, nor can we embody it by ourselves. To answer the questions above, we have to think in terms of our church--not just our individual lives; that's the only way sustained ministry happens--together.

Strange texts and Lent, vol. 2

In Old Testament accounts the first words of a character are meant to give us a glimpse into the deeper aspects of the person's life. If their first words are wise, then we will likely come to see them as wise; if they are words of praise, we should understand that they are people of praise, and so on. In 1 Samuel 1, we are introduced both to Eli and to Hannah. Eli is a priest, Hannah is a barren woman. One trip to Shiloh, where the temple was located, Hannah and Elkanah, her husband, are eating and drinking. Afterwards, Hannah begins praying and asking God for a child. Eli, just having seen her drink wine, thinks she is drunk and says, "How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine" (1:14). Hannah responds that she is not drunk, but deeply troubled. She promises to give her child to God if God grants her request for a child.

There is a sharp contrast between Hannah and Eli: Eli assumes the worst of Hannah with his first words, whereas Hannah's first words are prayers to God. Eli's children meet demise in battle (4:17) and Eli himself dies, as well. [Interestingly, the same way we are introduced to Eli--sitting down (1:9), is the same way we are introduced to his death (4:13, 18)]. Hannah's child, however, is one of Israel's greatest leaders of all time--Samuel.

One of the purposes of Lent, in preparing to have proper mind to appreciate the sacrifice of Christ, is to help us see where we might be "Eli's": We are sometimes people who jump to conclusions and who have wrong interpretations of others--even those we'd least suspect to have the proper attitude like Hannah.

Surprising texts in the Bible and Lent, vol. 1

As much as the Bible highlights important characters, it also highlights inconsequential ones. It mentions people and lets them fade into nothingness--they are never mentioned again. Another blog pointed this story out to me this morning and made the point that while we often get centered on ourselves--even in Bible reading (how does this text apply to me? What change does it bring in my life? How does it meet me today?)--the inconsequential characters make us realize that there are lots of other smaller stories that God is paying attention to.

Here's one such story: 1 Sam. 25 describes David's gaining a new wife in Abigail. Saul takes his daughter, Michal, another of David's wives, and gives her to Paltiel, instead. Later on when David is coming to power in Israel, he wants Michal back. 2 Sam. 3 records Ish-Bosheth (Saul's son) taking Michal from Paltiel and sending her back to David. Paltiel follows her, weeping behind her for a long distance. He has just lost his wife! Finally, Abner (a military man loyal to Saul, later to David) sends him back home. Paltiel goes home and is never mentioned again. On the honour of a potential King, Paltiel has his life turned upside-down; he weeps. The story shows us that God remembers and sees Paltiel even if he isn't considered very important; even if his honour is worth nothing to military commanders and politicians.

The time we are in is Lent. It is a season of mournful preparation for the Crucifixion of Jesus. In it Christians sacrifice some aspect of their life in order to identify with the sacrifice of Jesus. Sacrifice and Lent help us take our eyes off ourselves. This Lent, I am now trying think (often unsuccessfully) about the Paltiels of our own world--those who are trampled because they are powerless and beneath the honour of the powerful. Whoever thinks consistently of this world's Paltiels walks the road to Jerusalem with Jesus because only there can we see what the true King thinks of those beneath Him; on that road we see that even though we are all Paltiels, God considers us worth the sacrifice of His own honour.

Forgiveness and reconciliation

Gene Hendrickson passed a great quote along to me today by C.S. Lewis (I paraphrase): To be a Christian is to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in us. Lewis then fleshes this out a little bit: It is to forgive the inexcusable because forgiving the excusable really isn't forgiveness; it's fairness. To this I add, coming to God in confession and repentance and offering excuses is to reject the forgiveness he offers: How can you accept forgiveness if you offer excuses for what you've done? This isn't to say that there isn't a story or context to wrong acts. Of course there is. What it is to say is that forgiveness is a very serious thing because it deals with a very serious issue: sin. And sin cannot be forgiven without being admitted as sin.

Some think that forgiveness is giving up justice. This is wrong. Rather, forgiveness takes justice very seriously. If you forgive someone or are forgiven yourself, it means that there is acceptance of wrong. If I were to come up to a complete stranger and say, "I forgive you," they would be offended (rightly so!). What wrong had they done that deserved forgiveness? You see, in forgiving someone, we also blame someone. Rather than dismissing justice, forgiveness enforces justice: it makes sure that what was done that was wrong is declared wrong.

In giving us the ability to forgive, God has also given us the ability to have justice even when no courts are involved. He has given power to the powerless! The command to forgive then, is better understood as part of the good news that the Kingdom of God has come: Even the least powerful can have justice--divine justice--by doing one of the most difficult things a human can: forgiving.

Faith, Hope, and Theology

Sometimes we make theology the discipline of thought or study. The greatest theologians, however, have always been those facing the real issues of their days. St. Augustine faced a crumbling way of life, church heresy, and a collection of pastors asking, "How do we live as Christians in this time?" John Calvin lived in the aftermath of Luther's Reformation and the wars that plagued Christians because of disagreement in doctrine. Karl Barth pastored and taught during WWI and II asking how a Christian lives and acts in Germany in his time.

Great theology, you see, is done in the nitty-gritty of life, where God is involved for radical and life-giving change. Those who have faith, who have love, and who have hope are in the best vantage point to do theology because faith, hope, and love are the attitudes that truly show us God; and when can you hope, but when hope seems lost? When do you best love but when loving is difficult? And when do you have faith but when there seems to be no road? It is in these times that God proves himself strong.

So, with that in mind, I close with this quote:

"Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future; faith is having the courage to dance to it today." ~Peter Kuzmic

How does love fit in with hope and faith in this music analogy?

new kid in the story

Well, we'll see how this goes, but I wonder if people would mind sharing some stories that tell the personality of Calvary Community Church. I am trying to jump into the story of the gospel exemplified in our church, and would be greatly helped by hearing some of the stories that are the exemplification of the gospel in this church. How have we condemned sin? Forgiven of sin? Embraced sinners? I guess I could also ask, "Who is this church?"

The brutal necessity of honesty

In his book Till We Have Faces, a fiction book, C.S. Lewis highlights the nature of real relationship. The book's main character, Orual, demands a meeting with the gods regarding the unfair death of her sister, Psyche. The relationship between Orual and Psyche is a strange one: Orual is ugly, while Psyche is beautiful; Orual is militaristic and a strong leader, while Psyche is sensitive and well-liked. Yet Orual, in spite of the jealousy, loves Psyche and so demands a hearing. Through the jealousy, however, Orual puts on a mask and wears it almost constantly. Finally, the gods will hear her complaint about Psyche's death. Yet in this hearing Orual doesn't receive an "answer" to her sister's death, but the realization that she will never understand the gods "face to face" until she herself takes off the mask.

This got me thinking about the masks we wear--and the vast majority of us do wear them. Sometimes they are necessary. Sometimes they are a hindrance. They always hide who we really are, though. A week ago I heard John Ortberg say that to experience God we must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from our lives. I think it's also true to say that to experience God, we
must ruthlessly take off our masks. C.S. Lewis once said that next to the sacraments of baptism and communion that the face of another human is the closest we come to God. How important to have people with whom we must never wear masks! How can we see God face to face, until our face is no longer hidden from other people?

Sinners, saints, and the struggle

Sitting in Wild At Heart (WAH) group yesterday, I was reminded of a quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. (Actually, I was also reminded of it during Class 201 on Saturday. But WAH brought it all together. Great group, great leader.) The following is a paraphrase, but it's close:

"We must remember that we are first a community of sinners before we are a community of saints." This is true.

What triggered the quote was something one of the guy's said in WAH. What he said was quite profound. He said, "The courage is not implying that we live perfectly; the courage is in admitting we're weak and we struggle."

I agreed wholeheartedly (his point was right on; what I am about to say only springs from it). The only thing I would have changed is to say: It's even worse! We don't just struggle; we sin. We're not just weak; we're sinful. We're not just 'not good enough;' we're sinners.

Now, this is emphatically not the last word--that we are sinners. It's the first word--and likely the intermittent word as well--on the road to becoming the community saints by God's grace. If we only struggle, we can try harder. If we're only weak, we can get better coping mechanisms and become stronger. If we're not good enough, then we can get better--or give up. **But** if we're sinners, then we're the people Christ died for (Rom. 5:8); we're the people he gives his Spirit to (Acts 2:1-4); we're the people he's called and justified (Rom. 8:30).

This is why the gospel is not self-help, but is good news.