The Question No One Asks: How is it with your soul?

Weighing the soul-1875. Courtesy Harpers.

We probably wouldn’t think of asking someone today, How is it with your soul?, but maybe that’s exactly what we should be doing.  Of course, the question itself sounds outdated and very 19th century, certainly not the kind of question we would ask anyone in this postmodern, technological era.  But our failure to ask that question may be a clue to why people are increasingly choosing to stay away from our churches.  Let me explain.

The Neglect of the Soul

The concept of soul has fallen on hard times in our uber-scientific age.  We no longer entertain the quaint notion that we need to attend to, or care for, our souls.  As a matter of fact, the whole business of the human soul is up for grabs.  I just finished reading Whatever Happened to the Soul? In it the authors discuss the various theories of the human soul, including the theory that the soul doesn’t really exist, that humans are no more than their component physical parts.  The book rejects that notion, and opts for a holistic view of human beings as a unity of body and soul.

Thomas Moore, in his bestselling book, Care of the Soul, writes from a monastic background, but expands the idea of soul to include more than a person’s eternal destiny.  Moore contends that we need to care for our souls, the essence of who we are as living beings, and pay more attention to the “soul” of all things both living and inanimate.

Of all places, we should be talking about and attending to the idea of soul in our churches.  And, that is the way things used to be.  John J. McNeill’s classic book, A History of the Cure of Souls, traces the importance of the soul in pre-Christian and Christian cultures.  In short, the church used to pay great attention to the idea of soul and the condition of the souls of its congregants.

Before the Enlightenment of the 17th and 18th centuries, and Descartes’ famous, “I think therefore I am”, man’s existence revolved around the idea of his soul.  Granted, there was a lot of Platonic dualism, separating the idea of physical body from immaterial soul, but even with that duality, soul was more than just that part that went to heaven. Soul was the essence of humanity, the part of mankind that responded to God, and souls needed “curing” — which meant both caring for and gathering into the Christian community.

But with the Enlightenment, science and the scientific method pushed faith and God out of the public realm.  One could talk about things that were provable, but of course, faith and the soul were not among those things.  Hence, the loss of the soul began.

The Christian Message Becomes Centered in the Intellect

In the 20th century, the shift continued as the Christian message was intellectualized.  The appeal was to what the individual had or had not done:  Have you accepted Christ as your savior?  Have you been born again?  Do you believe the Bible?

And, mid-20th century evangelicals asserted  a fundamental faith in the Bible, and several denominations engaged in what Harold Lindsell in 1978 called, The Battle for the Bible.  Again, an appeal to a system of beliefs, not the state of one’s soul.  Of course, belief is important and the history of the church confirms this with the ancient creedal statements of the faith that addressed doctrinal matters from an intellectual standpoint.  But what was lost in the 20th century was an emphasis on the condition of one’s soul, because that was displaced by the condition of one’s mind — what do you believe?

The Church Is Uniquely a Soul Place

But if we return to asking the question, How is it with your soul?, we would accomplish several things.

• First, the human soul would again become the location of our spiritual lives. Some might call this a heart-vs-head battle, but that doesn’t really express it.  To be a human soul is not to choose warm affection over clear-headed intellect.  Being a human soul encompasses both.  But if we must choose a focus, that focus should be on our souls, not our brains.
• Secondly, focus on the condition of our souls would remind us that the soul needs constant care.  The loss of concern about the condition of our souls has come about because we think that all we have to do for our souls is to “trust Jesus as our personal savior.”  That certainly is a critical part of both caring for, and “curing” our souls.  But to assume that the totality of soul care is a one-time decision is equivalent to believing that we only need to eat one meal in our lifetimes to care for our bodies.  We attend to our bodies each day with food, drink, and care, and our souls are no different and no less important.
• Finally, to ask, How is it with your soul?, is to invite another to search their own soul for the answer.  The question can be asked of believer and non-believer alike, and can lead to further conversation about the care of souls through prayer, spiritual practice, and of course, surrender to God through Christ.

Churches should be communities in which the real issues of our humanity are presented.  Instead of answering questions about the soul, however, much of our effort focuses on popular problems and their solutions.  While it’s fine to have a series on “how to have a great marriage” or “what the Bible says about finances” the problems of 21st century life are soul problems, not just technical problems followed by self-help answers.  We must not become cultural technicians, when what the world needs are doctors of the soul.

So, how is it with your soul today?  Not, did you attend church last week?, or do you have a quiet time each day?, but how is your soul doing?  And how are the souls of your church members today?  Are they strong souls, grieving souls, healthy souls, or lost souls?  We may need a new way to ask that old question, How is it with your soul?, but if we fail to ask it we are failing to attend to the most basic need of human beings.

Grief as the surprising companion of cancer

As cancers go, it was the best kind to have, the doctor said.  Basal cell carcinoma, a type of skin cancer, that lives at the base layer of the skin, but rarely metastasizes to other parts of the body.  The bad news, he said, was that it was in the worst place it could be — in the middle of Debbie’s upper lip.  It would have to be removed.  There would be a scar.  He couldn’t work miracles.  That was only for Hollywood, he said.

Debbie had noticed what appeared to be an enlarged pore just at the bow of her lip.  Early last summer, she noticed a lump inside her lip just under this pore.  Summer was busy, though.  We had Vacation Bible School in June.  In July, my brother died and we made a week-long trip to south Georgia for his funeral.  In August, I spoke at a conference at Myrtle Beach, where we had a few days in the sun.  In October, Debbie went to a new dermatologist because the lump was bigger.

The dermatologist immediately diagnosed the enlarged pore and the lump as skin cancer, probably basal cell.  We were both stunned.  Neither of us had thought about cancer.  A cyst, maybe.  A clogged pore.  But cancer was a complete surprise.  A biopsy confirmed the diagnosis.  Then we had to wait for an appointment with the surgeon.  Debbie had the option of scheduling a consultation with the dermatological surgeon prior to her surgery.   On a November day we met him in his office.  That’s when he told us the good and bad news.  Most of it seemed bad to us.  Surgery was scheduled for December 11.

Last Friday, she went in for what would be called minor surgery by a casual observer.  With Mohs surgery, they don’t even put you to sleep.  She walked into the clinic, then out again four hours later.  The cancer was excised, and the doctor, who is also a plastic surgeon, did a wonderful job of repairing her lip where the cancer had been.  It was larger than he thought it would be, he said.  About the size of a nickel, right on her upper lip.

What surprised us both was the grief that was companion to the cancer.  Our first reaction was shock and disbelief.  How could this be cancer, even the least invasive kind?  It didn’t look like cancer.  Not like all the warning signs of cancer you typically see.  Our shock turned to anger at another doctor who had dismissed the enlarged pore with an “I don’t know what this is, but don’t worry about it.”

And then we prayed.  And read books on healing, and wondered if somehow God would not heal her so she wouldn’t have to go through the surgery.  And we prayed until we could not pray about it anymore.  We had no more words, no ability to sit together and ask God for anything — healing, peace, grace, calm, nothing.  We had come to the end of our prayers.  We had to hope that Paul was right, that the Spirit would pray for us because we did not know how to pray for ourselves.

And we cried.  We cried in our private moments, when we turned out the light at night, lying in bed.  We held each other and cried for the uncertainty, the loss, the fear, and the anxiety.  We wept because we had no words with which to comfort each other in the face of this disease that had crept into our life and now occupied almost our every thought.

We cried for each other when we were not crying for ourselves.  We grieved the loss of this part of Debbie’s body, this part of her lip on which I had seen a million smiles take form and blossom.  We grieved because no one else could grieve for us.  Because all the well-intentioned assurances did not help.

But the prayers of others did help, we believe.  The surgery went well, the doctor was skillful, and Debbie is healing.  Her lip no longer has its Cupid’s bow, as that little curved part is called.  But she’s well, the cancer is gone, and we’re on the other side of this experience.  What surprised us was the grief, whose shadow is just now fading.

I have always tried to visit my members who were facing in-patient surgery, and I have sat with families waiting the outcome of open-heart, cancer, and other types of major surgical procedures.   Day surgeries don’t seem as serious.  Medically, I suppose, they are not.  But few will know the emotional and spiritual pain accompanying those procedures we call ‘minor.’  Grief, however, makes no distinction and visits us at surprising moments of our own vulnerability.  I’m going to remember that, I hope.

Jesus never denied the presence of grief, never dismissed it, but always was present with those in grief.  “Blessed are those who mourn,” he said, “for they shall be comforted.”  I want to be among those who are the comforters, as well as the comforted.

Unplugged the cable again

About 3 years ago, Debbie and I unplugged the cable TV and stashed our 27″ big black box behind an upstairs couch.  And we went cable-less for almost 18-months.  Then the presidential election came along, and we turned it back on last fall.  Yesterday I turned in the cable box and we’re TV-less again.

Actually, we still have the big black box, only this time it’s upstairs in our bedroom hooked only to the DVD player.  We do this in self-defense because when the grandchildren come, they bring DVDs which give them hours of fun, and us hours of peace and quiet.  Okay, so we’re not purists, but we are living without broadcast TV again.

We actually like being without TV.  We like the quietness, and lack of visual and auditory clutter in our lives.  We also like not wasting time watching endless couples on HGTV look for their next home, or try to sell the one they’ve got.  We do miss the old movies on Turner Classic Movies, but our library has a nice selection of classic movies which we can checkout for free anytime.

The main thing I like is I get more things done without TV.  I read more, write more, and Debbie and I talk more about lots of different things.  Of course, we’re not off screens altogether.  I’m on my laptop, and she’s on her iMac right now.  But we are done with TV.  Again.  But this time I think for good.

Oh, I read today that Web TV is coming soon, and so are the sets configured for Web TV watching.  I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  But until then, Olbermann and O’Reilly will have to duke it out without us.  I feel better already.

Update: The New York Times reported today on the increasing use of vulgar, suggestive, and profane language on broadcast and cable TV.  Another reason to disconnect.

The Call We Knew Would Come

I received a call from the Fulton County Medical Examiner’s office at about 9:30 PM tonight.  A very kind investigator told me that my brother had been found dead late this afternoon in the apartment he shared in Atlanta.

We knew this call would come one day.  My brother had a sad history of substance abuse and several run-ins with law enforcement dating back for decades.  He was 55, and died alone.  We don’t know the cause of death yet.

The tragedy is that he was a very talented, sensitive guy who taught himself to play the guitar, the piano, keyboard, and could sing beautifully.  He graduated from college and seminary, and worked for two Christian bookstore chains.  But, he couldn’t get away from prescription drugs, and later street drugs.

As a result of his addiction, he lost every job he ever held, he lost his family, and contact with his two daughters.  He never saw his three grandchildren, never held them, never heard them laugh.  Later in life he was diagnosed as bipolar, which I am sure he was, looking back on his behavior.

But tonight he is at peace.  Despite all his problems, he loved God in the best way he could.  In the last extended conversation he and I had, Dana told me about an interesting book he was reading about ancient New Testament era manuscripts.

Sometime today, we don’t know exactly when, Dana crossed over from this life into the life to come.  Our mother is there, and our grandparents, and a host of others who have gone before.  Some of our relatives shared his addictions, and perhaps that’s where Dana got them, but tonight he’s free from whatever dogged him to death’s door.

Dana had been homeless, living on the streets of Atlanta for the past couple of years, when he was not in jail.  He preferred the streets to homeless shelters where he had been beaten up and robbed, or at least that was his story.  You never knew if you were getting the truth, or another attempt at sympathy.  But he had made a friend in Atlanta, and was staying in his apartment against public housing regulations.  His friend found him this afternoon, dead for several hours, according to the medical examiner.

Pray for my 89-year old father who will bury his youngest son later this week.  Pray for Dana’s daughters, and the grandchildren he never knew.  Pray for me, filled with regret that I could not help my brother, despite many attempts.  Pray for the other Danas who walk our streets, whose inner demons make living difficult, and death a relief.  Their families are also waiting for the call they know will come one day.

How I spent my summer (so far)

In addition to pastoring a small church, we garden. Actually, Debbie does the real gardening, I just dig holes where she tells me to. Here’s a walk from our backdoor to the vegetable garden and beyond. Note the 1-day old bluebirds at the very end of the video. I’m not posting a sermon today because we have a gospel quartet singing tomorrow for the entire service. Enjoy the garden tour!

Sermon: Nominalism – Why Don’t We Walk Like We Talk?

This is the third sermon in an eight part series titled, “Seven Cultural Challenges Every Church Faces.” I’m preaching this one tomorrow, and I hope your Sunday is a great one.  Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there, too!

Seven Cultural Challenges Every Church Faces:
Nominalism — Why Don’t We Walk Like We Talk?

In his startling book, The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience, Ron Sider said out loud what had become all too apparent — America’s most conservative Christians, evangelicals, live no differently than other Americans who claim no relationship to Jesus Christ.

George Barna, Christian pollster and trend watcher, said, “American Christianity has largely failed since the middle of the twentieth century because Jesus’ modern disciples do not act like Jesus.”

Sider points out in his book, subtitled Why Are Christians Living Just Like The Rest of the World?, that Christians are no different than the general population when it comes to failed marriages, domestic abuse, sexual conduct, materialism, and racism.  And if you find that hard to believe, let’s do the numbers:

• Marriage and Family. In 1999, Barna reported that divorce rates for evangelicals and the total population were exactly the same — 25%.  Brad Wilcox, a Christian sociologist pointed out that “Compared with the rest of the population, conservative Protestants are more likely to divorce.”  Sadly, in many families that stay together, domestic abuse occurs within evangelical families at approximately the same frequency as in the general population.
• Materialism and Stewardship. By 2001, evangelical Christians were giving 4.27% to their church, down from 6.15% in 1968.  And, from 2000 to 2002, evangelicals who tithed (gave 10% of their income) dropped from 12% to 9%, and the trend continues downward.  One study pointed out that if all evangelicals tithed, we would have over $143-billion dollars to send to world missions, hunger relief, poverty eradication, and other ministries.  The UN has estimated that it would take $70-80-billion per year to provide the world’s 1.2 billion poor with essential services like basic health care and education.  In other words, if only half of evangelical Christians tithed, we could raise the standard of living for the world’s poorest to a more humane level.
• Morality and Sexual Conduct. In 1993, the Southern Baptist Convention started a sexual abstinence program for young people called True Love Waits.  About 2.4-million kids signed the promise to keep themselves sexually pure until marriage.  But researchers from Columbia and Yale Universities tracked 12,000 teens who had signed the “I’ll Wait” pledge.  The results were disheartening — 88% of those who had signed the True Love Waits pledge had engaged in sexual intercourse before they were married.  Only 12% maintained their promise.
• Racism. In a 1989 survey, George Barna asked different groups whether they would object to having an African-American neighbor.  Only 11% of Catholics and non-evangelicals objected.  16% of mainline Protestants objected, but 20% of Southern Baptists objected to having a black family on their block.  Hopefully, since 1989, some attitudes have changed.  Southern Baptists have gone on record as apologizing for the enslavement of black Africans, and for the role slavery played in the founding of the Southern Baptist Convention.  But, some have viewed that apology with cynicism, citing SBC studies which show that for Southern Baptists to continue to grow, we must reach out to minorities and establish minority churches, and train minorities for leadership positions within the SBC.  Still our denomination remains one of the most segregated of denominations in our nation.  11 o’clock Sunday morning is still the most segregated hour in America.

The act of failing to live up to the teachings of Christ is called nominalism, from the Latin word nomen, which means name.  Nominalism, then, distinguishes that which is real from that which is in name only, or nominal.  In other words, evangelical Christians are for the most part, Christians in name only.  Our walk does not match out talk.

Mahatma Gandhi is reported to have said, “I would become a Christian, if I could see one.”

How Did We Lose our Way?

Why did I include nominalism under these 7 cultural challenges that churches face?  Because culture plays a tremendous role in influencing all of our society, including those of us who claim to be followers of Christ.

Paul writing to Christians in the first century who were in the midst of the culture of Rome, had this to say about the Christians and popular culture —

¹Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. ²Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.  — Romans 12:1-2

Christians in the 21st century, it seems, have become so enmeshed in the culture in which we live that we have been conformed to the culture — the world — rather than being transformed by Christ.  But how did this happen?  Well, there are several answers.

The Marriage of Church and State

The first answer to that question is found in the 4th century.  For its first 250 years or so, Christianity was a minority and persecuted faith.  All of the apostles were martyred, with the possible exception of John.  The story goes that authorities attempted to kill John, but he survived and instead was banished to the Isle of Patmos where he received the great apocalyptic vision we call the Book of Revelation.

That book, The Revelation of Jesus Christ, is about the persecution of the people of God, the church.  Written during the reign of the emperor Domitian, John’s vision gives hope to the Christians of the first century that their deaths were not in vain, that God saw their suffering, and that they had a special place in God’s kingdom.  And, most importantly, one day Jesus himself was coming with the whole host of heaven to vindicate the martyrs, and take them to their eternal glory as all things were made new by Christ.  In other words, God was giving hope to his persecuted people.

The early church was persecuted because the followers of Jesus were not like those around them.  In an age of dishonesty and everyman for himself, Christians were honest.  In an empire where sexual promiscuity was celebrated, Christians maintained the bond of marriage.  In a culture where the weak were viewed as a drag on society and were outcast or overlooked, Christians were generous and cared for the poor and the widows.  In a culture where rich masters owned slaves, Christians put aside positions of class in the ekklesia and slaves often served as leaders of the congregation.

Gerhard Lohfink has called the early church a “contrast society.”  And it was.  The values and lifestyle of the Christians of the first and second centuries contrasted dramatically with that of the culture around them.  Barry Harvey says the early church saw themselves as “another city” — in contrast to the great city of Rome, the Christian community became “another city” in governance, values, lifestyle, relationships, and conduct.

Because of their contrasting lives, Christians were easy targets for the failing Roman empire.  Nero was the first to blame Christians wholesale for the failures of his regime.  Subsequent emperors seized upon Nero’s idea, and expanded the blame placed on Christians until it reached fever pitch during the reign of Domitian.

But, as Christianity spread and grew, and Christians became more numerous, the empire began having second thoughts.  When Constantine ascends to the emperor’s throne, he needed to do something to bring a decaying empire together.  Christians were now as sizeable part of the population, and so Constantine decided to embrace Christianity as the unifying factor in his empire.

The famous legend of Constantine’s vision of the cross in the sky, and Christ’s words to him, “By this sign, conquer” makes for a great legend, but Constantine was no committed Christian, only accepting Christian baptism as he neared the end of his life.

For centuries, the church celebrated their new found status in the empire, sharing some power with the emperor himself.  As is always the case when the religious community seeks favor with politicians, the church woke up one day several hundred years later to its own corruption and loss of witness.  The church had become nothing more than the extension of the state.

That’s the historical setting, but it doesn’t fully explain how we in the 21st century, almost 500 years after the Protestant Reformation, are still being conformed to culture, rather than to Christ.  And, how culture shapes us, rather than Christians shaping culture.

A Missed Chance at the Reformation

It seems that even the Reformers — Luther, Calvin, Knox, and others — also fell for the same fatal idea: church and state should be one.  Which meant that church and culture would become one, and we live with that bad bargain made 500 years ago still today.

Of course, Baptists and American evangelicalism contributed the idea that religious freedom should prevail in America.  That we should be free from government establishment or prohibition of religious expression.  Baptists were highly influential in persuading Thomas Jefferson, and other colonial leaders, to write the Bill of Rights, which first took hold in Virginia where the Episcopal Church has already been established as the official state church.   The Episcopal Church was disenfranchised, and freedom of religion became the law of the land.

But, escape from government control did not mean escape from cultural influence.

The stories of faith and freedom were so closely tied in the newly-born United States that we as a people assumed they were one and the same.  And, the slide into Americanized Christianity took place over that past 250 years or so.  Now, American Christianity contributed some great things to the cause of faith — we focused on the individual, not the class or family, so that individuals were free to trust Christ without the constraints of social status or family heritage.  As a matter of fact, John Wesley’s Methodism sought out the disenfranchised first in England, and then in America, and presented the Gospel to them as well.

But, God and country are not the same, and when pressed to pledge allegiance to one or the other, Christians should have chosen God, as they did in the first century.  Instead, too often we chose American culture.

An example of the choosing of culture over Biblical faith is the founding of our own denomination — Southern Baptists.  Prior to 1845, with slavery becoming more widespread in the South where labor intensive crops like tobacco and cotton dominated the economy, Baptists in the North began to object to Baptists in the South holding slaves.  That objection extended to the rejection of mission offerings from Baptists in the South, until such time as these southern Baptists divested themselves of their slave holdings.

Baptists in the South were outraged and offended.  So, in 1845, the Southern Baptist Convention was born, allowing Baptists in the South to send their own missionaries to China and India and Africa, without the judgmental interference of their Northern counterparts.  Clearly, our Southern Baptist forefathers gave in to the culture and the economy, rather than to the Gospel of Christ.  Of course, numerous passages of scripture were quoted and re-quoted justifying slavery, and bolstering the status of Southern Baptists.

With 150 years of hindsight, slavery is a sin of which we should still repent.  One wonders if a denomination born in strife, and on the backs of enslaved human beings, can or should survive.  That is a debate for future Baptists, but I wonder if the fractious history of our denomination, which continues to this day, is a part of our denominational DNA.

The State Cannot Impose Our Values On Others

History is full of failed moral experiments, Prohibition being one of them.  During Prohibition, our country learned that you can’t legislate one morality for all people.  While the Temperance Movement was thrilled when Prohibition passed, legions of Americans (including many in our own community) broke the law to either get a drink or make liquor out of economic necessity.

So, before I go any further, let me state that I do not believe that the Bible teaches that we as followers of Christ should impose our moral system, whatever it is, on others.  We cannot make people act like Christians, who do not follow Christ.  Of course, some laws that accomplish our purposes are laws passed for the common good.  Laws that protect children from being exploited either by unscrupulous factory owners, or pornographers, are good laws.  They serve Christian purposes, but also the higher good.  So, we are not opposed to laws that protect and define conduct that makes the world a better place for all.

Back to my illustration of Prohibition.  Even though it is now legal in many places, including Chatham to sell and purchase alcohol, it is not legal to drive while intoxicated, sell alcohol to minors, or sell non-tax paid liquor, known as moonshine.  All of those laws serve our Christian idea of good, but are not specifically Christian laws.

No, the answer to why we don’t walk like we talk is not found in the local town ordinance, the state legal code, or federal law.

We Lost Our Way, Because We Have Left The Way

I believe that Christians have lost influence with our society because we have lost our way, The Way of Jesus.  You and I could debate endlessly what a Christian could do, should do, and ought to do.  That, in part, is why we have so many denominations.  Some find great latitude in how to live the Christian life, others like our Amish brothers and sisters, follow a much more narrow path.

But being a follower of Christ is about being a follower of Christ.  When we began to look for the loopholes, the exceptions, when we begin to ask ourselves “where’s the line?” in our conduct, we have missed the point completely.  The Pharisees were far better a walking that fine line between religious legality and illegality.  Jesus completely dismantled their thinking every time he said, “You have heard….but I say unto you.”

For it is not in the letter of the law that we find Christ, it is in the Spirit of the law.  It is not a matter of how little do we have to do, or how much can we get away with in living and still be called Christian.  Rather, we should live our lives with Jesus, as though he were here, present with us.  For he is.

Jesus said, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. ¹⁹If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. ²⁰Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. ²¹They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me. ²²If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin. Now, however, they have no excuse for their sin. ²³He who hates me hates my Father as well. ²⁴If I had not done among them what no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin. But now they have seen these miracles, and yet they have hated both me and my Father. ²⁵But this is to fulfill what is written in their Law: ‘They hated me without reason.’

²⁶“When the Counselor comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father, he will testify about me. ²⁷And you also must testify, for you have been with me from the beginning.” — John 15:18-27

Why don’t we walk like we talk?  Partly because we don’t want the world to hate us.  We want to fit in, we don’t want to stand out.  We want to be like everybody else, and that is our problem.  We want to be like everybody else, when we ought to want to be like Jesus.

Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life, no one comes to the Father except by me.”

Jesus did not say, “I know the way” or “I’ll teach you the way” or “This idea is the way.”  He said, “I am the Way.”  Period.  In the first century Christians were called followers of The Way.  It was Jesus’ Way because the Way was Jesus himself.

We do not walk like we talk because we are not following Jesus.

More than 25 years ago, Graham Cyster, a South African Christian struggled against the wickedness of apartheid — the institutionalized racism and genocide of the South African government.  Other groups were also working to move South Africa away from the apartheid, and Communists were among those working in South Africa to bring equality to all South Africans — black and white.

Graham Cyster was smuggled into an underground Communist cell of young people one night, in hopes of presenting the message of Christ.  Amazingly, the young Communists gathered that evening said, “Tell us about the gospel of Jesus Christ,” half-hoping for an alternative to the armed, violent struggle they knew they faced.

According to Ron Sider, Graham gave a clear and powerful explanation of the Gospel, telling how faith in Christ can transform individual lives.  He talked about how Christian love could break down the barriers that separated people, and quoted from the Apostle Paul that there was no longer male nor female, Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, but that faith in Christ builds a new community where all God’s people live together in love.

One 17-year old exclaimed, “That’s wonderful!  Show me where I can see that happening!”  Graham’s face fell as he had to report that sadly, he knew of no place in South Africa where that was true, even though there were many churches in South Africa.

With that the young man cursed, and left the meeting.  Less than a month later, he had joined an armed band of Communist guerrillas who were committed to the violent overthrow of the South African government.

The world around us is not interested in what we believe.  Nor are most of them interested in where they will spend eternity.  The world around us wants to see that the message of Jesus, the message of God’s love is possible.  For if it is possible, then there is hope.  If it is possible, then there is a heaven.  If it is possible, then there is a God who loves even me.

What business is your church in?

A probing question companies ask themselves in planning is, “What business are we in?”  You might think it would be obvious that a newspaper, for instance, is in the print news business.  But, not so, according to a popular journalism blogger.

Steve Yelvington says that newspapers are in the business of helping other companies sell their products.  In other words, if it weren’t for advertisers (companies) placing ads in newspapers in order to sell more products, the newspaper wouldn’t have the financial support to stay in business — which is exactly what’s happening to newspapers.

Yelvington’s point is that newspapers either forgot or never understood that they were primarily in the business of helping others sell their products, and that’s why they’re in trouble.

Ask that question of churches, “What business is a church in?” and you’ll get several diffferent answers, as follows:

— Churches are in the worship business. But, isn’t that getting the cart before the horse? Why do people worship? Who or what do people worship?  And even if you narrow it to the worship of God, then whose god and how should he/she be worshipped?

— Churches are in the teaching business. If we could just get people to learn about God, Jesus, Christianity, doctrine, and so forth, we’d be successful.  Most discipleship programs are built on knowledge transfer.  Christian education is wonderful, but knowledge, even about God, is not the business we are in.

— Churches are in the helping business. This has several variations, such as serving, caring, loving, and ministering.  But if that’s our business how are we different from the local charity, foodbank, or clothing drive?  Churches may help, but that’s not our core business.

— Churches are in the salvation business. This also has several nuances such as eternity, soul, conversion, and transformation.  Of course, the big problem here is that the vast majority of people who live around the world are not looking for salvation, and don’t see the need to be saved from either hell, the devil, sin, separation from God or eternal punishment.  Nor do many see the need to be saved to heaven, eternity, unity with God, and so on.  So, if we’re in the salvation business, we’re in big trouble.

What’s the answer to the question “What business are churches in?”  Here it is:

I think churches are in the meaning business — the meaning of life, the meaning of my existence, the meaning of family, the meaning of love, the meaning of suffering, the meaning of  a thousand other experiences that can only be explained by God.

How do we stick to our business?  By focusing on the answers to the big and small questions of life like, Why am I here? Who is God? What am I supposed to do?  How can my life have significance (meaning) in a world where so much is meaningless?

Those are the questions we should be answering each week, each Sunday, in every worship service, in every small group, and with every person.

Churches are in the meaning business — because if we aren’t nobody is.  That really is the point of religion, isn’t it?  To help people find meaning in all of the confusing, conflicting, crazy stuff of life.  Of course, those of us who are followers of Christ have found meaning in Jesus.  For us, Jesus is the key that unlocks the mystery of meaning.  But our experience of Christ began with some kind of search for meaning.

What do you think?  Agree, disagree, or have another answer?  I think this is a really important question and we need to know the answer.  What business is church in?  What do you think?

Sermon: Running To Win

Here’s the sermon I’m preaching tomorrow from 1 Corinthians 9:24-27.  I hope your Sunday is great!

Running To Win
1 Corinthians 9:24-27

²⁴Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.

²⁵Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. ²⁶Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. ²⁷No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.
From Accommodation to Competition

Last week we looked a Paul’s testimony in which he said:

²²To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. ²³I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.

Paul is explaining to the Corinthian church his credibility as an apostle, which has led him to accommodate himself to various situations so that he can effectively communicate the gospel.

But this week, Paul uses a different metaphor — that of a runner in a race.  And he says,

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.

Paul now compares the Christian life to a competitive race, and he urges his hearers to run to win.  What’s this new argument that Paul puts forth about?  What situation is the idea of running a race addressing in the Corinthian church?  To understand Paul’s imagery of runners in a race, we have to understand the culture of sports in that day.

In the city, there was a place called the Campus . This was the old drill ground for soldiers. It was a large section of plain near the Tiber River. Over time, the Campus became ancient Rome’s field and track playground. Even such famous people as Caesar and Augustus exercised on the Campus. Young men, all over Rome, gathered at the Campus to play and exercise.

On the Campus, men participated in foot racing, jumping, archery, wrestling and boxing. After a bout of exercise, they might jump in the Tiber River for a swim, or wander off to the Baths, to relax. All over Rome, men practiced riding, fencing, wrestling, throwing, and swimming. In the country, men went hunting and fishing. At home, men played ball before dinner, which were games of throwing and catching.

Women were not allowed to join in these games.

The activities on the Campus of Rome were preceded by the Greek Olympic games in which there were several types of running contests:

The Olympic events were held in the stadium and the horse races took place in the hippodrome. The Olympic events included the following:

1) The stadion: a foot race the length of the stadium. The athletes stopped at the end of the stadium without returning to the starting line.

2) The diaulos: a foot race the length of two stadia, where the athletes finished at the starting line of the stadium.

3) The dolichos (long distance race): a foot race which probably had a length of twenty four stadia.. A notable dolichos runner and Olympic winner was Ageus who ran from Olympia to his homeland Argos to announce his victory.

4) The hoplitodromos (race in armour): a foot race the length of two stadia in which the runners were dressed in full armour.

5) The pentathlon: an athletic event made up of five separate events: the stadion, the discus throw, the javelin throw, jumping and wrestling. The winner was the athlete who came first in three of the five events. The pentathlon, according to Aristotle, is the “best event of the Greeks because it is the embodiment of the ideal type of athlete: powerful, fast and flexible”.

6) Boxing was one of the most popular events. The training of the athletes was carried out in the Palaestra and the rules of this event were defined by Onomastos of Smyrna, who was an Olympic winner in 688 BC. The family of Diagoras of Rhodes were the eminent boxers of the 5th century BC. The father, three sons and two grandsons, all earned Olympic titles.

7) The pankration is an event that combining boxing and wrestling. It is a violent event and many times the lfes of the athletes were endangered. One famous pankratist was Polydamas from Thessalia.

As Paul describes the runners in a race, or boxers swinging wildly, the Corinthians know exactly the images Paul is using because they have seen these games, and perhaps have participated in the games themselves.

The Rules of The Race

In a very brief passage, Paul gives us a clear picture of his rules of the race.

1. A lot of people can run in the race;
2. Only one wins;
3. Run to win.

So, Paul’s rules of the race are clear.  And he goes on to point out that runners in a race in Corinth run for a crown that doesn’t last, a laurel wreath.  Paul says Christians are running for a crown that will last forever.  So what’s the point?  I think there are several and here they are:

Paul Is In A Race, a Fight, For The Corinthians’ Faith

Read all of 1 Corinthians 9 and 10 and you get the picture of a man who is making his case in the strongest possible terms.  Paul asserts his apostolic credentials because some have challenged his position.  Paul asserts his right to be supported by the Corinthians, but then says that he didn’t insist on their support.

Paul then reminds them that he has become all things to all men to win some, for the sake of the Gospel.  In other words, for Paul this business of being an apostle, of being sent by God to Jews and Gentiles, has not been easy.  He has had to support himself.  He has not sacrificed having a family of his own to do this work.  He has used his personal skills in speaking and writing to communicate with as wide an audience as possible.  He has traveled tirelessly, been shipwrecked, beaten, arrested, ridiculed, threatened, rejected, abused, mistrusted, misunderstood, and gossiped about.  But still he pushes on for the sake of the Gospel.

From Paul we can learn three things about the race he’s in:

1. It’s not a game, it’s life and death.
2. It’s not easy, it requires training and commitment.
3. It has a goal, a finish line, a winner’s circle, and Paul wants to stand in it.

Why is Paul running this race, fighting this fight for the Corinthians?  To keep them from abandoning the faith they have found in Christ.  And, to help them train to run their own race.  So he counsels them on how to conduct worship, how to solve problems in their church, how to observe the Lord’s Supper, how to practice the spiritual gifts evident in the congregation.

But he also cautions them against quarreling, lawsuits against each other, sexual misconduct and immorality, falling back into the old habits of eating food offered to idols, of disrespecting one another and by doing so disrespecting Christ.

Paul has his hands full with instructions, admonitions, guidance, cajoling, and criticism of the Corinthian Christians.  But this is also personal.

The Race Is Both Taught and Lived

Paul explains it this way:

Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. ²⁷No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.

This is not just a game for Paul, it’s life and eternity.  Paul says, I’m not running aimlessly like those men of leisure in Rome who worked out on the Campus in Rome.  No, Paul says, I’m in training.  I’m focused, I’m disciplined, I’m making my body my slave.  That might sound unusual, until you remember that Rome and the Roman empire was all about appetites.  If you wanted food, the empire had more than enough.  The Caesars kept down the revolt of the poor by handing out bread each week.

The Romans had gods for food and drink, for partying, for love which really meant sex, and for any other appetite you might want to engage.

Paul reminds the Corinthians that a runner in training, a boxer in training, has to follow the rules of training.  To master your own appetites.  Paul’s concern is that the gospel of Jesus that he preaches is not just an abstraction for others, but is real for him, too.

The New York Times carried the story yesterday of the arrest of Bobby DeLaughter.  Bobby DeLaughter was a judge in Mississippi accused of taking a bribe to rule in favor of one party over another in a multi-million dollar lawsuit.

The sad part of the story is that Bobby DeLaughter is the same prosecutor, who in the 1990s, tried and convicted Byron De La Beckwith, a klansman, in the assassination of civil rights leader, Medgar Evers.  Evers was gunned down one evening as he arrived home, killed in his own driveway by an assassin shooting a high-powered hunting rifle.

De La Beckwith and others had been tried twice in the 1960s and found not guilty by local juries, but the word on the street was that De La Beckwith was the killer of Medgar Evers.  By the 1990s when Bobby DeLaughter became a prosecutor, evidence had disappeared, witnesses had died, and yet Bobby DeLaughter believed that justice had not been done.

So DeLaughter reopened the investigation, located a trial transcript that had been missing from a previous trial, and prosecuted Byron De La Beckwith for the murder of Medgar Evers.  DeLaughter was threatened, discouraged, and ignored by those in power in Mississippi.  Men who had known him all their lives refused to shake hands with him, and yet he persisted because he believed that Medgar Evers’ killer should be brought to justice.

DeLaughter’s words to the 1994 jury that eventually would convict Byron De La Beckwith were:

“Is it ever too late to do the right thing? For the sake of justice and the hope of us as a civilized society, I sincerely hope and pray that it’s not.”

DeLaughter was a hero to some, an overzealous prosecutor to others, but De La Beckwith went to prison.  DeLaughter’s story was made into a movie, Ghosts of Mississippi, and DeLaughter was played by Alec Baldwin.  He went on to become a judge, and that is where his ambition apparently became his downfall.  He was accused of unduly favoring one client over another in a multi-million dollar civil suit.  Standing in shackles and leg irons, he pleaded not guilty to the charges against him this week.

“It’s really tragic,” said Rims Barber, a civil rights veteran who heads the Mississippi Human Services Coalition.

“DeLaughter stuck his neck out, and learned he could make friends with Myrlie Evers, and he prosecuted that case and got a conviction, and that was an amazing start to something,” Mr. Barber said, referring to the wave of later prosecutions.

“DeLaughter became a hero, and now he’s fallen,” Mr. Barber added. “It’s terrible.”

Paul said, I don’t want to lose the race I’m in after helping others win their race.  I want to run to win.  I want the prize, too.

The prize for winning in the Roman games was a laurel wreath, a branch of green leaves woven into a very temporary crown.  But the prize was not the laurel wreath itself.  The prize was having the emperor place the victor’s wreath on your head and proclaim you the winner of the race.  Paul was running, not for the crown, but for the King.

5 Lessons I Did Not Learn in Seminary

Browsing in a Barnes & Nobles today, I saw a book titled, Lies My Teacher Told Me.  Apparently the author takes issue with some historical stuff he thinks is misrepresented in public education.  The title of that book got me to thinking about my seminary experience.  While I would not accuse my professors of lying to me,  I did learn that there are some lessons seminary never teaches you.  

1. Ministry can be lonely.   Nobody prepared me for the isolation of single staff ministry.   Seminary campus life provides a rich mix of faculty, students, and organizations in a collegial atmosphere.  But when I left seminary to take my first church, there were long afternoons when I wished I was on the campus again.  
2. You can’t please everybody.  I guess I knew you couldn’t please everybody, but I thought good pastors tried to.  Or at least tried to get along with everybody.  I quickly ran into agendas about church, community, and family that I never anticipated.  We made lots of friends in those early churches, but we realized we couldn’t please everybody.
3. Not everyone sees your vision.  I had lots of ideas for my first full-time church, and we put a lot of them into practice.  But not everyone thought new people were a blessing to our church.  Not everyone thought we ought to spend money to improve our Sunday School. Not everyone was thrilled when we set new records on high attendance Sunday.  Not everybody got it, but enough did that we made significant progress.
4. There are not enough hours in a day.  Or days in a week.  Or weeks in a month.  As a new pastor, I tried to do it all.  I made pastoral promises for my time and attention that stretched me too thin.  Some days I resented the intrusion into what I thought was my “personal” life.  It took a long time to find a rhythm of public ministry and private life that was both challenging and encouraging.  
5. You have to manage yourself.  Managing time is one thing, but managing your emotional response at times of great disappointment or opposition provides a real challenge.  I don’t think I ever heard a professor talk about “self-management” in difficult moments.  I learned some of those lessons the hard way.  Fortunately, churches are forgiving of a young pastor’s missteps.  However, those lessons need to be learned early, as later pastorates might not be so generous.  

Well, there you are.  Five things I never learned in seminary.  I’m sure there are more.  What are some of your post-seminary lessons?

Waiting for Christmas

 

When I was a kid, time seemed to stand still, especially in the weeks before Christmas.  I remember asking my mother, “How many days ‘til Christmas?”  

 Her patient reply to her 6-year-old reassured me that Christmas would indeed come someday soon.  We didn’t start decorating for Christmas at our house until the middle of December.  But I could see the signs of Christmas long before it actually arrived.  Mama would start getting out the boxes of ornaments and the strings of colored lights — the big ones, not the tiny ones like we have now — and I knew that Christmas was coming. 

Gifts arrived by mail from cousins and aunts and uncles whom we only saw a couple of times a year.  Christmas cards began to pile up in the living room as friends and relatives near and far sent greetings of Christmas.  Some cards contained Christmas letters, catching us up on the lives of families we seldom saw, but cared about deeply. 

Another sign of Christmas coming appeared at the church.  Eastern Heights Baptist Church in Columbus, Georgia was a working-class church.  I remember firemen, mechanics, store owners, factory workers, and truck drivers who made up most of the membership.  These men dressed up in suits on Sunday morning, filing in to sit on the front pew, as the deacons did back in those days in Georgia.  At Christmas, the old sanctuary came alive with color.  Now, this was long before Baptists ever heard of an advent wreath or liturgical colors.  No, the sanctuary brimmed with poinsettias, Christmas garland, some candles, and Christmas lights.  Always prominently displayed was the Lottie Moon Foreign Mission Offering board.   Big white lights were lit for each $100 given toward our goal of $2,000 — a big sum for working folks to give. 

Of course, the Christmas that all the red and green gave way to purple and gold was one to remember.  Seems that the son of one of our members, who owned a flower shop in Atlanta, volunteered to decorate the church.  Instead of pine garlands that year, we had lemon trees with silver and gold ribbons.  Instead of red-and-green, the colors were lime, purple, and gold.  As you can imagine, that caused quite a stir at Eastern Heights Baptist Church.  The next year we were back to our traditional décor.

 All of those signs told a little boy that Christmas was coming.  So I waited, and Christmas did come.  Just like the world waited 2,000 years ago, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what to hope for, but seeing the signs.  This year, as you wait for Christmas, watch for the signs of His coming.  That was always my favorite part of Christmas.