Sermon Reflections

I took the weekend off from blogging because my in-laws were in town, and we had a really nice weekend with them, including dinner at Sopapilla's and everyone at church on Sunday morning (this is quite a big deal for my father-in-law).

On Sunday, I preached about the paralyzed man in John 5 who spent 38 years waiting to get into the pool by the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem so that he might be healed. I talked about how his paralysis - his inability to move forward - was not just about his physical ailment but also about his mental and spiritual state. He was stuck because he placed boundaries and borders around God and God's activity, thinking that he could only be healed if he was able to get into the water. Then Jesus shows up and rocks his world!

I invited the congregation to think about the boxes that we put God in and reflect, during this season of Lent, on how we need to open ourselves up to different ways of thinking and new ways of doing things. I have been pondering all of this for myself as well, and here is where I am today. One of the boxes that I have is what it means to be a pastor; more specifically, what I do day in and day out as a pastor. I've realized that I am very comfortable at the church, where I can write sermons, prepare Bible studies, make phone calls, send e-mails, organize events, and the like. I enjoy all of these and do them well. But being a pastor (and in the end, being a disciple) isn't about staying inside the box that is the church building. It's about moving beyond the box to share God's love with those who aren't part of the church.

To be honest, much of what that looks like is uncomfortable and unknown to me. I have been part of the church my entire life, surrounded by a community of love and forgiveness. The last period of my life where I spent real, quality time with people who weren't Christians was in college. I am sure I interact with people who aren't Christians all the time...at the grocery store, at a restaurant, walking in the neighborhood...but I don't think I have a meaningful relationship with anyone who is not a Christian. Isn't that sad? And really, I'm not even sure how to go about making that happen.

As a pastor, it seems like one of the things I should be doing is cultivating relationships outside the church with at least part of the motivation being to invite my friends into a life-giving relationship with Jesus Christ. That's certainly what I encourage church members to do, but I don't do it myself. Part of it is simply a by-product of professional clergy - we don't have co-workers who aren't part of the church. Part of it is my natural tendency to be more introverted than extroverted. But part of it is a lack of openness to an expanded vision of what it means to be a pastor, and that's where I can change.

So, my hope is that God might give me a little push to get beyond this stuck point in my own life, and my prayer is that God will do the same for you!

The Beginning of a Good Work

"The One who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion" (Philippians 1:6)

On Wednesday, I mentioned the hunger meal of rice and beans that we do at Christ UMC on Ash Wednesday. I'm not really sure when or how this tradition started (maybe some of the Christ UMC folks can fill in the details), but I know it has been happening for several years. Volunteers provide the food and cook the meal (it's really quite tasty!), and it is free with donations going to a hunger ministry. This year, the Outreach Committee decided the funds would go to the Open Table, which is a ministry in Nashville seeking to mobilize resources to help the marginalized, specifically the homeless, especially those who were displaced from Tent City during the flood last year. They are doing some really great things.

Recently, I have been feeling something stirring inside of me around the issue of homelessness. I can't really define it and don't understand it yet, but something is happening. I think I am in the beginning stages of God calling me to do something about this issue. Again, not sure what. This Sunday, I am preaching about the paralyzed man in John 5 that Jesus healed. Part of the amazing thing about this story is that the man had great faith and thought he knew how God would heal him (through the waters of the pool). In the end, Jesus pushed him beyond his expectations, outside his mindset and the box in which he had put God's activity. I'm hoping to avoid that very pitfall by trying to keep an open mind and a willing heart and see what happens. I guess that's all anyone could ask of me at this point.

I am encouraged by the words above from Philippians 1:6. I know God has begun something in me, something good. I don't know what will happen or how it will end up, but I trust that together we will see it through to completion.

Rob Bell and Universalism

A friend from church e-mailed me last night to ask my opinion on Rob Bell's new book Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived, which was originally set to be released on March 29th but has been moved up to March 15th after a promo video and some advanced copies got the Christian blogosphere up in arms with claims that Rob Bell was embracing universalism. He forwarded me a review of the book and asked me to respond. So, here are my thoughts:

There has been a lot of buzz about Rob Bell's new book, and it hasn't even hit the shelves yet! So, obviously, I haven't read it and can't really comment on the content of it yet. From the review, it looks like Tim Challies read an advance copy, which is not always the same as the final product.

One of the things I like about Rob Bell is that he thinks about things in a different way. He is very creative and uses wonderful images and stories. He also likes to ask a lot of questions and doesn't always give the answers. I actually think that is a really good thing, but it seems like the reviewers disagree: "Christians do not need more confusion. They need clarity." One of the biggest dangers that pastors/teachers/leaders in the church face is being utterly convinced that our way of thinking and our theological position is right/good/correct and all others are wrong/bad/improper. I think one of the signs of spiritual maturity is being able to wrestle with theological issues and being comfortable not always having an answer. Sometimes the best we can do when faced with the mystery of God is wonder.

Back to the issue of questions...I do think the reviewers are helpful when they point out that it matters how the questions are framed. And the way Rob Bell is framing the questions, he is challenging the standard evangelical doctrines of heaven and hell. My guess is this is really the whole point of his book - to get folks to re-examine these doctrines. Some would say this is a dangerous and destructive enterprise, but I personally believe that it is good and healthy and that the Church always needs to be open to the moving of the Holy Spirit, whether that movement is to change or to reaffirm.

The issue (heaven and hell) that the book addresses is a difficult one because you are dealing with the eternal destinies of people and the very character and nature of God, and there are many different perspectives throughout scripture and the history of the Church. Rob Bell seems to be challenging the one that has become dominant in today's evangelical circles, which basically states that Christians go to heaven when they die and non-Christians go to hell. Especially in our world today, where church attendance in the US is lower than in previous generations and we are exposed to and even in relationship with people of different religions, I think we need to examine this position. In the end, if we agree with it, it should increase our drive and motivation to share the Gospel with others. If we think another position is better, that's important too and should shape how we live.

It is certainly a theological issue that I still struggle with personally. Some days, I think there are very few of us who will be going to heaven (narrow gate, hard road, eye of the needle, etc.). Other days, I think we will all be there (1 Tim 2:3-6, John 12:32, Rom 5:18, etc.). Most of the time, though, I settle somewhere in the middle. As a United Methodist, Arminianism is part of our heritage. It stands in contrast to Calvinism and states that God's desire/will is for all of humanity to be saved and grace is extended to each of us, but we must ccoperate and respond to the grace offered to us. To me, it best satisfies the tension between the nature of God's love (which one might think means all go to heaven) and the passages of scripture that talk about the eternal destiny of the wicked. But even within an Arminian framework, there is still wiggle room on the exclusivist-inclusivist-pluralist spectrum.

The one thing that I do believe strongly and hold to unswervingly is that salvation comes through the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Again, within that lies some wiggle room. Does one have to believe in Jesus Christ and confess him as your Lord and Savior? What does that mean for infants and children who die? If God's salvation is extended to them without belief and confession, can it be to others? What about the person who never hears about Jesus? Or who is taught that Christianity is evil? Is God's grace big enough to extend to them? What about the faithful and devout Buddhist or Hindu or Muslim or Sikh? What about Jewish folks, God's chosen people? In the end, I tend to land somewhere in the inclusivist camp because I think that God's grace is big enough to extend beyond what we call Christianity and that people of other faiths are sometimes (often?) responding to God's grace in Jesus Christ without knowing or naming it.

When all is said and done, I have more questions than answers. And it certainly is not my place to judge others and decide their eternal destiny. I will leave that to God. But I am left to trust in God's grace offered to me through Jesus Christ, and to share that Good News with others.

Ash Wednesday

This year for Lent, I am once again taking on the discipline of journaling online. I hope you will join me on this journey toward the Cross and the Resurrection.

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season. This evening, Christ UMC will be worshiping together with St. John's Anglican Church at 6:30 after a hunger meal of beans and rice (more on that another day). The Ash Wednesday service is a somber and solemn service designed to help us confront two realities that we would usually prefer to avoid: our mortality and our sinfulness.

These two realities are difficult for us to think about, let alone discuss. But they are two things that unite all of humanity. We will all die, and we all fail to live up to God's hopes and expectations for us. Fun thoughts, I know. But it is important for us to consider both of these, even if it is just once a year. When faced with each of them, and especially both of them together, we gain a greater understanding of God's grace. Both of them point to our great need for something divine beyond ourselves, because without it, we really do not have a reason for hope. Without God's grace, death is the end, our life ending in defeat. Without God's grace, we are lost in our trespasses, with no chance of overcoming. Without God's grace, our very existence is toil and futility.

But praise be to God that we are not left on our own, but that through Jesus Christ we have the promise of redemption, reconciliation, forgiveness, regeneration, and even eternal life. In order to realize fully each of these, we must see our need for them that God alone can supply.

So, as we begin the Lenten season, my prayer is that we might become more aware of who we are in Jesus Christ and trust more fully in God's grace.

New Season

I haven't written a blog post since my Lent discipline of daily blogging. As I enter into this new season as associate pastor of Christ UMC in Franklin, I hope to maintain more of an online presence and to be able to connect to people more in this way. My plan is to blog, tweet, and update Facebook much more regularly.

Just a quick update on our life right now...

We moved to our new home in Spring Hill on June 21st, said farewell to the wonderful folks of Bethpage UMC on June 28th, and received a warm welcome at Christ UMC on July 4th. Those transitions alone would have been enough to raise the stress level and anxiety in our household, but in addition to all of that, our daughter Becca has been in the hospital for almost a week and a half, looking at her lack of weight gain and growth. After much prayer, thought, conversation, and consternation, we have decided that the best thing for her will be to get a G-tube. Now, we are waiting for them to schedule the surgery (hopefully today, but more likely tomorrow).

I am also getting ready to head out of town to go to MAP for a week. It should be a lot of fun, and I am really looking forward to spending a week with some folks from Bethpage and reconnecting with friends from Atlanta, but the timing is not the best with trying to get Becca's surgery done, adjusting to a new routine, and settling into a new church. But, that's life! The craziness of this summer will continue with a week here in Tennessee followed by a week at Aldersgate Camp in KY, a week back here, and then several days in Chicago for a wedding and to celebrate our 5th anniversary. I think everything will be great, but I'm sure it will also be nice to be home for awhile afterwards and allow things to get back to some sense of normalcy. But for now, back to the madness!

Father, Forgive Them...

At our Good Friday service this evening, we sang songs about the cross, read the story of Jesus' crucifixion, and meditated on the stations of the cross. For me, it was a moving and powerful experience that brought tears to my eyes. I was especially struck by Jesus' words, "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing." Forgiveness is a hard thing even in the best of circumstances. And pretty much every instance of forgiveness I can think happens after the fact. Someone wrongs you, you are hurt and upset, and eventually you are able to forgive. Here I recall Gregory Jones' definition of forgiveness as more than simply not wishing harm upon someone, but as truly desiring their good and their benefit.

But at his crucifixion, Jesus offered this forgiveness while the people were doing him wrong and harm, while he was suffering and dying. What an amazing testament to our Lord and Savior, and what a high calling we now have placed upon us.

The Last Supper

At our Maundy Thursday service this evening, I talked about last meals and mentioned what some people from history and from movies chose as their last meals. Then I asked what we would choose to do for our last meal. Finally, I talked about what Jesus did at his last meal. He shared in the Passover meal and transformed it into a powerful symbol for us as his future followers: the bread, his body; the cup, his blood. He ate with his disciples: those whom he loved and cared about and acted as representatives for all of humanity. And he chose to serve them by washing their feet. Jesus' last meal was an act of love. Will his example of service and our sharing in his body and blood inspire us to live our lives as an act of love?