Thursday, April 7, 2011

the carrot and the french fry

Rob Bell has me thinking lately. His book Love Wins has stirred a heated debate these past few weeks over the subtleties of eternal damnation. I admit I haven't read it. I've done what most others have done.....read a few excerpts, seen a few interviews and discussed it for hours with other Christians. So this is NOT a book review. These are my views on the topic of heaven and hell, which have been brought to the surface and refined by the recent discussion.

Two questions about hell keep coming up. The first is, "is hell real?" The second is, "if it is real, who's going?" We all have to wrestle with these questions. As far as I can tell, the answer to the first question is...no, hell is not real. It exists, but it's not real. What I mean to say is that hell is not natural. Hell is the eternal manifestation of falsehood. In this way, it's the opposite of real. God is real. In fact, he is reality itself. Heaven is to be in the perpetual presence of God. To be anywhere else is to exist in non-reality. Comparing heaven and hell is like comparing a carrot with a french fry. The carrot is real. It's intended. It's natural. It's here on purpose. The french fry, when held in the shadow of the carrot, can't be said to be real. It's fake. It's fabricated. It's here, but it's presence is not a result of divine volition. (An exception shall be made for Wendy's fries. Those things are dang good.)

Now, on to some scripture. In Matthew 25, through the lens of a parable, we get a look at the judgement seat. Here, the Son of Man is separating the people as a Shepard would separate sheep from goats. The long and short of it is, the ones cast into hell are the ones who refused to lay down their lives for others. Interesting side note...the basis for judgement in this parable is behavior, not belief. heaven and hell have more to do with ethics than theology. More on that later. My main point here is that in this parable, hell is described as having been made "for the devil and his angels." Hell came about as a fabricated consequence for those who rejected divine reality. Unnatural actions breed unnatural consequences. Also, it was made for spiritual rebels, not people. people experiencing hell are experiencing something that was not intended for them. Actually, I think a pretty good definition of hell is to receive what you were not intended to receive. So hell is not real. the very essence of it is fakeness.

Heaven was made for us. Hell was made for the devil. If that's true, then why doesn't everyone go to heaven? Do people go to hell because going to heaven is so hard? No. People go to hell because going to heaven is so easy. Heaven is automatic. It's natural. It's already built into the plan. That's what throws us. We don't trust anything we can't make. Some of us would rather inherit a hell made by our hands than a heaven made by the hands of another. The ultimate irony of heaven is that the only way to miss it is to try to get there on your own terms. -we'll get to the second question next time

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

spring.



Spring is all about newness. After months of dormancy, the ground, the trees, and the sky begin to show signs of life. In recognition of this pattern, we decided to try something new ourselves. Two things actually. The first is a multi-cultural Bible study, done as a partnership between Foster Street Wesleyan Church, and Greater St. John Baptist. These two churches have developed somewhat of a sister church relationship over the past few years, and we felt that it was time to go deeper. As Pastor Kearns put it, “we have gathered around the frozen pond, and now it’s time to break the ice.” The 10-15 of us who will participate in this Bible study will try to do just that. Studying scripture with people of other backgrounds will expand our vision of what God is up to. It will also force us to face truths that we have mostly avoided thus far. Pray that God would grant us courage in this venture, and that he would use it to heal the hidden wounds of our division.

The second new thing is a community garden. Some kind friends have seen fit to lend us some space to grow some food. The space is located in front of the East Side Homes senior center, which is a perfect location for this project. A handful of our regular volunteers whom God has endowed with green thumbs will lead this work. The local young people will do most of the work, and reap most of the benefits. I’m honestly not sure which I’m more excited about, the prospect of studying God’s Word with a diverse group of Christians, or the looming prospect of fried squash. Please….don‘t make me choose

Thursday, March 3, 2011

the cross is all there is

Sorry this is so long, but I couldn't figure out how to break it up. Read it if you want to, and let me know if I'm a heretic.......

The cross of Christ is the central event of history, the core of all creation, and the sole reality holding the universe together. I don't mean this in a narrow way, or in an exclusive way. I mean this in a broad way, and in a way that takes into consideration the whole of existence. The life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is not just an historic event that can be contained within a single measurement of time. It is at the center of all that what is, was, or will be.

Think of it this way....we say we can't believe in the Resurrection because we weren't there to see it. But we have seen it. We've seen a seed dropped into the ground, and vegetation spring up in the exact same spot. We've seen a tree shed its leaves and grow new ones. We've eaten the meat of an animal and gained strength and energy. We've seen one day fade, and a new one replace it. Death and rebirth is an eternal reality. Life born from the womb of death is an undeniable truth that all of us must face. Those events are all deeply and inextricably related to the event that we refer to as the Resurrection. They all teach us what we cannot escape, try as we may. They teach us that renewal only comes through sacrifice. The seed was buried so that a tree could be born. Christ laid himself down so that all creation-himself included- could be reborn. Those events are do not just constitute a loosely drawn analogy. They constitute two manifestations of a single truth.

Death and rebirth is all there is. All else is a denial of reality. It's always been there. It was there before sin was there. Brokenness preceded sin. We think of brokenness - a kind of death- as a tragic outgrowth of mans rebellion. Christ's brokenness is then seen as a sharing of our brokenness,done to undo our brokenness, and prevent any further brokenness. But in Genesis 1 and 2, brokenness is a constant reality. We see it before, during, and after Adam and Eve's initial rebellion. Creation itself is an act of self-giving. God had to lay down his life, not just to save his creation. He had to lay down his life just to make his creation. Maybe that's why the Old Testament speaks so clearly about the forthcoming Crucifixion of the Messiah. God saw it, not just because he's God, but because it had already happened. He died for us before we sinned against him.

If this is true, then the historical crucifixion of Jesus was actually a dramatic re-enactment of the creation event. It was the clearest display of an eternal reality. It was a more emphatic version of a flower growing in a garden:Different in scope, but not different in kind.

Christ doesn't give us the power to fix ourselves. He gives us the power to be broken without being sinful. Truly then, all sin is rooted in the avoidance of brokenness. Adam and Eve weren't broken by their sin. They sinned by trying to escape their brokenness. Brokenness means vulnerability and dependency. Pride is an attempt to transcend these natural borders, and all acts of self-righteousness are merely attempts to skirt the cross.

If you look at it this way, the cross is not just one aspect of true religion. It is the essence of all truth, and is readily apparent for anyone with eyes to see. I see the cross and the empty grave most clearly in The Sermon on the Mt. The heart of the message found in Matthew 5-7 is that we would be wise to lay down our lives for truth and leave the results in the hands of the Father. We must love our enemies. We must not seek revenge. We must be content with what we have. We must not pursue worldly pleasure. These things characterize a life of brokenness. It is a life where God fights our battles for us simply because we trust him to do it. The empty grave is proof that it actually works.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Public Penance

Because we are funded by an assortment of churches and individuals, I myself am often asked to give voice to who we are. I usually say, “We’re an outreach ministry.” But that’s not entirely true. While it is true that we engage in acts of outreach in an underprivileged area, that title doesn’t get at the heart of our identity. Who are we then?

We are a public act of repentance for the public sin of racism. We are brokenhearted over the riff that exists within the body of Christ. We are grieved not just that we are divided, but that we are divided along the same lines by which worldly kingdoms are divided. We believe that a message of reconciliation proceeding from the mouth of a dismembered bride fuels a cynical attitude toward the church. We contend that racial division in the pews provides the illusion of divine consent to the subtle racism that remains in many secular institutions.

We are convinced that the epidemic in the black community is due in large part to a wound that they did not create. We have a growing sense that this epidemic and the division that inflicted it are deeply spiritual in nature. We affirm that prayer, confession and forgiveness are our God-given allies in the task at hand.

As the leader of this ministry, I know that this work starts with me. In recent weeks, we have begun to refocus on racial reconciliation as our primary task. To some degree, this means that we must scale back our more tangible acts of service in the community. Painful truth: Good works can at times be used to gloss over the deeper issues. They create a temporary sense of unity but, on their own, don’t address the diseased root of our separateness.

My single goal/prayer is that I and others would stop looking at racial division in the church as a mere inconvenience. I long for us to see it for what it truly is…proof that we are not as close to God as we think we are.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Yuletide Sweat-Socks

From the January Newsletter:

To everyone who helped us this Christmas, we say thank you. We were honestly overwhelmed by the outpouring of donations. When we set out to provide Christmas stockings for the kids at the local Boys and Girls Club, our goal was to raise five-hundred dollars. That amount would provide a respectable stocking for fifty or so kids. When all was said and done, we raised over one-thousand dollars for this project. For us, that meant three things. First, it meant that we could upgrade the stockings themselves. Instead of the classic, sad stocking with a moldy orange and a fractured candy-cane stuffed way down in the toe, we were able to stuff these Yule-tide sweat-socks with items that children might actually enjoy. In short, we stuffed them full of candy and other goodies, and then threw in a toothbrush to ease our guilt.

Second, it meant that we could assist some families who had recently fallen on hard times. These families were in crisis, and were it not for an abundance of generosity, we may not have been able to help. We consider these folks our friends, and we sincerely thank you for helping to make their Christmas a whole lot merrier.

And thirdly, the huge response means for us that people have our back. It lets us know that we are not the only ones who care, and that our ministry is not dependent on our own resourcefulness. It means that there are people with whom we share the load. Honestly, when we initially asked for five-hundred big ones at Christmas time, I was a bit pessimistic. Please accept my apology for underestimating you, and feel free to keep surprising me.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

a couple of things...



Question: How do you get four-hundred people together on a Thursday night, many of whom represent diverse economic and social backgrounds? Answer: Smoke a turkey. On Thursday November 18th, that’s just what we did. Actually, we smoked five of them. This was our fourth year participating in the EastSide Community Thanksgiving Dinner. Thanks to the neighborhood churches, and a lot of help from Foster Street Wesleyan Church, we all had a memorable evening together. A special thank you goes out to Juan Stimpson who stayed up all night smoking turkeys and hams. Thanks to you Juan, I can never eat a baked turkey again.


On a somewhat/completely unrelated note, I need you to help me pray about something. Lately I’ve felt a little out of position. God has called me to pastor and preach, and those are two things I don’t always get to do a lot of. Don’t get me wrong, I feel deeply honored to be working with the people that God has called me to. I’m just not sure if I’m relating to them in the right capacity. As the leader of a community organization, I’m looked to mostly as a provider of resources. At times, I spend the bulk of my energy planning events and raising funds. Some of you who know me are probably frightened at the thought of me planning events. I share your trepidation. As a community organizer with a pastors heart, I feel like I’m offering every solution but the one I know will work. Ultimately, we pray for God’s will to be done, whatever that looks like. Will you help us pray?

Thursday, December 2, 2010

The Cure of Souls

What the heck does a pastor do anyway? What does your pastor do? What's his/her job description? The truth is, most of don't know what a pastor does, or is supposed to do. The tougher truth is that there are a few of us who don't think they do much of anything, at least until Sunday rolls around. I grew up as a pastors kid, and can vividly remember the night I told my dad to get a job. Dang. Sorry dad. Of course, I have since learned the hard way that a true pastor carries a tremendous spiritual burden, and there is no clocking out. Even so, the job of pastor remains one of the most ambiguous career paths available. I think us pastors are just as confused about it as the lay folk. I personally have been through seven years of schooling, and have served as a full time minister for more than six years and I'm still not totally clear about what exactly I'm supposed to be doing.

For some clarity on the issue, I recently looked back at the original job description of the parish Priest. The ancient term used to describe the role of the Priest is "the cure of souls." It included five things.....Preaching the Word, giving the sacraments, giving Godly counsel, visiting the sick, and embracing the poor. That's it! Now, if you look at most job descriptions put out by present day pastoral search committees, you're bound to see something totally different. Outside of preaching the Word, nary a one of those five will have made the list. Instead you'll see things like "dynamic leadership",and " ability to take our church to the next level". Hence our conundrum, and thus our current identity crisis. For better or worse, we pastors have become significantly divorced from our original model. Strategizing and motivating are not the same as curing souls. And for the record, dynamic communication is not the really the same as preaching the Word. It's probably obvious, but the calling to cure souls resonates deeply with me. Fasting and praying for the flock is certainly not a glamorous usage of time, but the old saints understood that someone had to do it. Visiting the sick/poor, and offering communion is not bound to produce visible results, but that's what makes them sacred. To put it in Eugene Petersons words, pastors have been "lashed to the mast of Word and sacrament", whether we like it or not. Your thoughts? More on this next week.