When did I sit down? When did I decide that it was OK to rest, to take a break? When did I decide that the status quo was acceptable? When did keeping silent become the preferred thing to do?
This is not what I signed up for, to let the world go by unchallenged. No, becoming a Christian was about dreaming big, thinking big and acting big. In the past few years I’ve seen some real needs for big dreams and big voices in our churches. I’ve tried to be one of those voices, with various levels of success.
But lately I’ve been tired. Tired of fighting, tired of speaking up, tired of being what felt like a lone voice. I’ve grown quiet, and sat back and watched. I sat down.
Monday night, three of the deacons got together for the first time in a long, long time. We talked about the church, our roles and our frustrations. We agreed on much, but decided on one thing, that we needed to keep getting together. We have a responsibility to God, to our church, to our minister and to each other. It felt so good to get with these men, I missed this so much.
It was in front of this backdrop that it hit me that I had sat down. Not that the Christian life is all about some Great Battle or always about fighting for some Important Idea, but that there are things worth fighting for, to the end.
It’s time to strengthen these feeble knees and stand up again.

Some time ago I came to the realization that the really small lapses of integrity are in some ways the most serious. Back in my days as a hotel valet and doorman at the Omni (now Hilton) Netherland Plaza Hotel in Cincinnati, I used to get a lot of flack for declaring all of my tips as income. The other employees tried to convince me that either:

1. The law didn’t require full disclosure, only 10%. I checked that with the IRS. They laughed.
2. It wasn’t really a big deal, after all it’s the IRS and it’s not that much money to the government.

My response was that my integrity was worth more than the piddly tax saving I would get from lying to the government. Of course they weren’t concerned about my integrity, they figured if I was honest their lie became more apparent.
I’m reminded of that concept on a regular basis. I go back to the back room at work to the candy bin for an afternoon snack. It’s stocked with a variety of mini candy bars for $0.15 each. Sometimes I get back there and find I’ve only got a dime. The temptation is to throw the dime in and take the candy, but then I realize that I’m saying that I’m willing to compromise my integrity – and God’s standards – for a nickel.
What brought me back to this was comments from Virusdoc on a colleague’s ease at cheating his way out of a pricey toy he was tired of and this powerful post from a blog I discovered via New Wineskins, Tent Pegs.
First from VirusDoc:

“I rubbed a high powered magnet against it until it destroyed the hard drive,” he replied. It was too big and heavy and I was tired of it. Since I bought a replacement plan on it, the store paid for my new mini.”
Flabbergasted, I tried to contain my moral approbation and remove myself from the conversation as quickly as possible. …. How cheap is this guy’s word? I now know that he is more than willing to lie, cheat, and steal if it is to his own advantage and if he can do it in a manner that leaves no incriminating evidence. I’d like to think my word is worth more than that.

Me too.
This from Tent Pegs:

When … he was told by the little girl how much they cost he exploded. It was about twice what he paid for that service back home in the US. He was abusive and insistent about the evil being perpetuated on him. It got so bad that I got hold of his belt (he was a lot bigger than I) and pulled him away from the counter and out of the shop. “Congratulations,” I told him. “You just sold that girl’s soul for twelve pounds [about $20 then]. I will never be able to talk to her about Jesus because she is going to associate me with the huge, red faced, angry American who berated and belittled her over something she could not control or change. I hope you feel better, but she doesn’t, I don’t, and Jesus doesn’t since He now has to find someone else to reach her with the gospel of peace.”

Wow.

While on our recent trip, I had about 20 hours in the car to think and pray (and listen to Disney DVDs playing behind me). As a result there are a few things on my mind; hopefully I’ll get several posted this weekend. I’ve got grass to cut, a garage to clean out, a date with my wife, a going away party for friends and car parts to order, so that may be wishful thinking.
As we were driving to our layover hotel in Danville, IL (A story I’ll share later) Friday night I had an amazing revelation about our God. You know how you can just be surrounded by something day in and day out and just not notice it? That’s how I felt Friday night. As I typed it tonight it sounds a lot like a 60’s drug trip, but it was real and profound at the time.
It was generally overcast that afternoon as we traversed western Ohio and all of Indiana. As the sun set, a few breaks in the clouds appeared on the horizon and we were treated to a spectacular sunset. The sky was vibrant purple, pink, red and orange with streaks of slate blue-grey clouds through it. It appeared as though we were traveling down a shallow slope into a valley with some psychedelic mountain rising off in the distance, waiting for us to climb. It was rather surreal and made the vast distances of crossing this country stark and plain. It’s hard to explain, but suddenly I could feel the distance of a thousand miles where it is usually only and intellectual exercise to comprehend how far away Kansas, Colorado or California is.
As I contemplated the illusion of this ‘bowl’, arching up and away in the distance, it occurred to me that I was actually seeing the exact opposite, the inside of the ‘cloud bowl’, arching down and away as the grey blanket followed the curve of the earth. It was then that I was struck with the real size of the planet. I could see the Earth as a sphere, not just understand that it is a sphere, but see it as one, and imagine it as I drove along it.
I was instantly struck with how tiny, no infinitesimal, I am on this great ball. I am a nothing, a speck, a dot. Not only that, but my God is bigger than the Earth. In fact, he envelops it, covers it much like the cloud blanket I was enjoying seemed to extend infinitely in all directions. I was suddenly awe struck that this mighty creator, bigger than the entire planet of which I am an insignificant spec, is my friend who longs to fellowship with me.
I though of this more on Tuesday night on a prayer walk. A flashing light drifted across the sky, another tiny spec that was in reality a couple hundred people in a big metal tube high in the sky. I thought about God’s creation, not only of this world, but the entire universe. I stood in awe at how enormous, strong and mighty our God is. And yet, he longs for us. No, even better, He came down as one of us. He became an infinitesimal spec on a small planet off in the corner of an enormous universe so that maybe He could have a relationship with a few of us. The awesome universe enveloping God packaged into about 8 pounds of human flesh in a barn. It blows my mind, and mostly I can’t really comprehend it. But this past week, for just a moment or two, it was a little more real.

Please head over to the Barnabas Ministry and read Rescuing the Gospel From the Gospels. It’s an excellent look into the context of the first four books of the New Testament – Why they were written, When and How the early church used them. To entice you to go check it our, here are a couple of quotes:

The gospels teach many ideals: love for enemies, humility, forgiveness, prayer, giving to the poor, and the like. Now what if we made a comprehensive list of all such items in the gospels? This is exactly what is done by those frustrated with the fallenness of the church or eager to prove themselves better than other Christians. They turn these ideals into a “Christian Law” — requirements for salvation, and it becomes ten times more oppressive than the Law of Moses.

Been there, done that.

We can claim we do xyz, and may actually do xyz for a time, but have we done xyz enough? Sooner or later, and it’s usually sooner, failure comes into the equation for the Christian. And the same is true for any and every example of “law” that might be mined from the gospels. Salvation does not come from following the law– any law.

I can’t even manage to follow my pet peeves, let alone live up to every standard put forth by Jesus in the Gospels.

The gospels teach what is true and good and right. These things are virtues– things that lead to blessings and point the way to goodness. And they are ideals that point the way to spiritual growth, not requirements that stand against us. Those who want to turn the gospels into a Christian Law often look at spiritual performance as a “half-empty” sort of a thing. No matter what good happens, there is some failure. For those who turn virtues into law or ideals into demands, there is only unrelenting condemnation. Failures against this “law” are beaten against the hearts of those who seek to do right. (In fact, this is a leading control mechanism in abusive and unhealthy churches– leadership persistently pointing out failures of the followers in order to maintain control over them.) Thus, the Christian is no longer free to do good, he is only condemned by his limitations. How is any of these “good news?” It just looks and sounds like complete and utter condemnation. …
Jesus let virtues be virtues without looking for some failure in the performance. I believe that Jesus saw spiritual virtues as a cup “half-full.” He recognized and praised the feeble efforts of people to do what was right; he did not stand over them pointing out their failures. God accepts our picnic basket lunches, our simple mustard-seed faith in him, our well-intentioned acts of repentance, and our sorrow for our sins. He doesn’t beat us over the head because we haven’t done enough.

I feel like I ought to say something here, but it speaks for itself.

The gospels give us ideals, things to shoot for, things that will bring blessings in heaven and on earth, things that advance God’s work. We should not disregard them or be reckless concerning them:

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:10)

But we are only deceiving ourselves if we think we actually attain these ideals, or if we think salvation is tied to such a performance. And if we teach this to others, our message can hardly be called “good news.” In the end, we need salvation after conversion just as much as we need salvation before conversion.

Please go read the whole thing, it’s excellent.
Thanks to Pfredy for the link.

Another excellent series of posts from Wade Hodges, this time on faith. In three parts, Wade asks what’s more important, the content of our faith (the ‘right’ faith) or the quality of our faith (good faith or bad)? really good stuff, I was going to grab some quotes, but here are too many good ones. OK, just one, from Part 2:

People exhibiting bad faith are usually afraid of questions, or at least afraid of the new truth questions might expose. Bad faith is based on the unquestioned authority of the church, the Bible, a preacher, or parents. Bad faith says, “I’m not sure why I believe what I believe, I just do. If it was good enough for mom, then it is good enough for me.”
People with good faith have a curious wonder about life and are unafraid of its big questions. They are consumed by a passion for seeking, finding, and exploring the truth, even if it means challenging the assumptions of conventional wisdom. They are courageous enough to explore what those with bad faith will not even talk about.

Good stuff, please go read.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Virusdoc mentions in the comments of his most recent post his fear of becoming a ‘project’ in a new church once they discover his serious challenges to his faith:

What I would really enjoy is a group of believers that I could just hang out with and drink beers or coffee, and develop relationships. Maybe even serve alongside with them in the community. Something with more practical, tangible content than you typically get on a Sunday morning. And without all the icky songs. My fear is that if I were outspoken about my beliefs …, then I would turn into the “project” or “special needs” member of the group. This would nauseate me.

After reading that I was particularly convicted. Why? Well, the only reason I know the ‘doc is because of his search to renew his long dormant faith. About a year and a half ago, he posted at Odyclub that he was starting a new blog to explore the integration of his scientific education and his Christian faith. I began to read his blog and found myself thinking that perhaps I could help him rekindle his dormant faith. He and I have corresponded ever since, even meeting for a drink last summer when my family spent a few days in St. Louis. It’s become a good friendship, and not just one of teacher and student, if you will. His comments on my wrestlings frequently lead me to looking at new angles and points of view on the subject, broadening my understanding.
Now wanting to help someone isn’t a bad thing at all, and I don’t regret that, in fact it’s what lead to us knowing each other. But there’s this nagging mode of operation in the back of my mind, left over from my ICOC training. The ICOC was all about evangelism and converting people, again not a bad thing. But every relationship, every encounter was turned into an opportunity to make that person one of us. It really put a twist on everything. You couldn’t just have friends, you wanted to turn them into visitors and then studies and then baptisms. Then it was on to the next one. We kinda knew it was warped, particularly how new converts would get dropped to a lower priority immediately after baptism, but we pushed the doubts aside because God had a mission for us. And folks who had questions that didn’t fit into our neat little pattern, or if they didn’t ‘progress’ along the studies, well, we didn’t have time for that. We had other folks who really wanted to be saved.
When Virusdoc posted the comment above it showed me that on some small, subconscious level, I still treat people like projects. I’ve found myself looking for the perfect words to say, in conversations and in blog comments, the one’s that God would have me use. So when soul searching posts, like the one at Virusdoc, come up I wait to comment until I have my thoughts just so. Comments had to be the right comments, not just words of support from a friend. The goal (of conversion or transformation or whatever) is noble, but if it is the only goal or even the primary goal, how un-Christ-like! Besides, how arrogant to think that it is my role to be the rescuer.
I think that’s one of the roots of this problem. I begin to take on roles that aren’t mine. God has called me to love, not to save people. It is His role to save, not mine. Yes, part of loving, an integral part as disciples of Jesus, is to help people be saved, but it is God who does the saving, not me. All I can do is lovingly instruct and share, point them towards God and let His love and grace take it from there. That’s not always going to happen on a neat schedule or timeline. Sometimes we may not know at all what the fruits of our conversations are, but that doesn’t matter. Our role is to love, not produce results. If we love, the results will happen, whether we see it or not.
The control freak in me hates that. I want to see it through, to see the completion, and many times I can. I see the fruits of loving conversations in changed disciples or in a new conversion. But other times, the seeds are planted and I don’t know what happens next. I want to know, to finish the work. On one hand I believe God says, your work is done, I’ll take it from here. On the other, the work of loving is never done, even if there is a victory of conversion, transformation or healing.

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “Do not commit adultery,” “Do not murder,” “Do not steal,” “Do not covet,” and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

Romans 13:8-10

So if I have loved, I’ve done my duty, yet the duty remains to be completed.

While I’m busy moping and trying not to think to deeply, go over to wadehodges.com and read his series on transforming the Churches of Christ to meet the needs of the emerging culture. In 7 parts, check them out:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Good stuff there.

Check out Greg’s latest post, Chaos.Order. It’s agreat reminder of how God has been working throughout time to form His people, sending them into chaos and bringing them back into order. I found it especially comforting in what has been a couple of years of spiritual chaos in my life, my church and my church family.