Month: January 2020

Holy Fear

‘A great wind, a great calm, a great fear. An unspeakable power is here.  Far beyond the darkness and the waves, there is a very real reason to be afraid’ – Michael Card, from his song, A Great Wind, A Great Calm, a Great Fear

This past week I was thinking about the tragedy that some people are literally afraid to come to church.  It was brought home to me when I heard that someone in our community in need of assistance had been afraid to contact the church I serve because, well, we are a church.  That anyone would think that way breaks my heart, and so I spent some time considering how the local church I serve, which is already pretty darn loving and welcoming, could overcome such thinking.  Unfortunately, the Church at large has made that a difficult task.  Many professing Christians have practically erected signs to make certain people or groups of people feel as though they are not wanted in churches.  There is much work to do in order to undo this damage.  That it needs to be done at all is a tragedy.  Jesus knew how to make people feel invited, welcome, safe, and loved.  Too many Christians have made people feel otherwise.  

In the course of thinking about this, I realized something though – the fact that some people are afraid of churches is indicative of not one, but two problems: first, that Christians have made certain people fear going to church; and second that Christians have made certain other people feel as if they have no reason to fear at all.  It is the latter of those two problems that I would like to concentrate on in this post (although I’ll deal with the first a bit too).  

As I’ve written in a previous post, church isn’t a building.  It’s a community of people who follow Jesus, a people gathered in the presence of one another and God.  In other words, wherever God’s people gather, wherever two or three gather in Jesus’ name, God is there (Matthew 18:20).  That God is present makes church, wherever it gathers, be it in a stone building or a local coffee shop, sacred space.  Holy ground.  When someone ‘goes to church’ they go to a place where they can expect to encounter the presence of the Holy. 

And encounters with the presence of the Holy always involve an element of fear.  

Take for example the giving of the Ten Commandments.  God descended upon Mount Sinai in smoke and fire.  When the people heard the thunder and the blast of the shofar, and saw the lightning and the smoke, they cowered at a distance and cried out to Moses, ‘Don’t let God speak to us directly.  If he does we will die!’  Moses told them not to be afraid, but still, the people were terrified by the presence of God (See, Exodus 20:18-21). 

When Isaiah stood in the Temple and beheld the glorious sight of the Lord, with seraphim singing ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Heaven’s Angel Armies – the whole earth is filled with his glory!’ the prophet to be cried out, ‘It’s all over!  I’m doomed!  I am a man of unclean lips who lives among people with unclean lips – and I have seen the King, the Lord of Angel Armies!’  It was only when one of the seraphim pressed a hot coal to Isaiah’s ‘unclean lips’ that he was able to stand more surely, and respond to the call of God with his famous, ‘Here I am Lord, send me!’  (See, Isaiah 6:1-8). 

Or how about the time Jesus came walking to his disciples on the sea? When the disciples saw him coming, Matthew describes their fear by telling us, in the Greek, that they were, ‘lian ek perissou en heautois existanto.’ James Martin literally translates this as being, ‘very much exceedingly in themselves standing outside,’ or as we might say, beside themselves with fear (See, Matthew 14:22-26). 

I could go on.  Think of all the times God or his angels have to tell people not to be afraid.  It happens several times in the Christmas story alone.  Heck, the initial reaction to the Resurrection of Jesus, the most glorious news ever received, was one of fear.  Mark writes, ‘the women fled from the tomb, trembling and bewildered, and they said nothing to anyone because they were terrified’ (Mark 16:8).  

The point is that encounters with the Holy are always, at least initially, terrifying.  They always have been and they always will be, because as the Rich Mullins song goes, ‘God is an awesome God.’  He is Holy.  When we encounter Him, we, like Isaiah, come face to face with the fact that God is God and we are not.  That He is Holy and we are not.  We are confronted by our sinfulness, our un-holiness, our ‘fallen-shortness,’ as Paul put it in Romans 3:23.  People who encounter the Divine are always overcome by the Holy.  

Michael Card is right.  When we encounter God, there is very good reason to be afraid.  

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that God is mean.  He is no terrifying monster.  That’s not the issue.  The issue is that God is love (1 John 4:16).  Not the wishy-washy nonsense people often call love.  REAL LOVE.  Pure, undefiled, undiluted, purifying, redeeming, furious love. And encountering love like that is a terrifying thing.  It is to encounter a love that desires what is best for us, a love that will settle for nothing less, and what is actually best for us is seldom in simpatico with what we think is best for us.  God loves us so furiously that he is not content to leave us as we are.  He desires that we be transformed by his holiness, and he has the power to bring about the transformation.

Churches haven’t always spoken truthfully about this.  Heck, I haven’t.  In our desire to make people feel comfortable and unafraid, we have spoken of the love and holiness of God as if we were talking about Santa Claus.  He’s such a nice guy that even though in theory he keeps a naughty and nice list, in practice everyone gets everything they want.  Because that, we think, is what love does.  It affirms us as we are and tells us that everything is fine the way it is.  

But that isn’t true.  If it were we wouldn’t live in a world with so many problems.  

The Church cannot be so obsessed with making people feel welcome that it pretends that an encounter with God is anything other than what it is – an encounter with confrontational love, an encounter that reminds us of who God is and who we are and who He desires us to be.  For it is only when we encounter God in this way that we can be transformed by his redeeming love.  Like Isaiah, we all need to feel the fire on our lips before we can be made new.  

So getting back to the problem of some people being afraid to come to church: the real problem is that some churches have been selective in deciding to whom they will honestly communicate the holiness and awesomeness of God.  Some professing Christians, for example, have little trouble pointing fingers and shouting at people who struggle with sexual issues.  They’ve had no problem making those people feel uncomfortable and afraid (when what they really need is mercy and space, not another psychological thrashing).  But they have also had no problem making other kinds of sinners feel comfortable and unafraid.  Tell me, why should a racist feel any more comfortable in church than a person who struggles sexually? Why should someone who supports the separation of children from their parents, as so many ‘Christians’ do these days, feel safe and unafraid at church?  Why should people who support violence committed under the banner of an American flag feel at ease when gathering to worship the Prince of Peace?  Why should crass materialists and consumerists feel warm and fuzzy under the luxurious glow of candles and stained glass while their neighbors struggle to put food on their tables?  Should abortionists feel unafraid at church?  White Nationalists?  People who cheer the hateful words of hateful politicians?

Honestly, should anyone ever be totally at ease in the presence of God? 

It is absolutely true that EVERYONE is loved by God (See, John 3:16).  And it is absolutely true that the invitation of Jesus is ALWAYS to come closer and not be afraid (see, e.g., Revelation 1:17). But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t have standards.  Truth be told, if we spoke about God truthfully, no one would ever blithely walk into a church gathering and think they were about to spend the most comfortable hour of their lives. Everyone would understand that they had come to experience an encounter with the Holy God who is a consuming fire – an awesome God of Love who will not be content until he has remade us in the image of his Son.  

Yes, He will do that lovingly (and often gently).  But make no mistake: one way or another He will do it.  

Church is not supposed to be a loosey-goosey ‘feel-good-about-yourself-athon.’  While we need to be compassionate and loving toward everyone, showing special mercy to those who have been knocked around by life (and the Church), we cannot forget who we are dealing with when we invoke the name of God.  There comes a point at which we all need to feel a touch of holy fear.  Because, as the wise man once said, ‘the fear of the Lord is the beginning of understanding’ (Proverbs 9:10). 

Here’s the bottom line.  In the Church of Jesus, everyone is welcome and should be made to feel invited, welcome, safe, and loved.  The message we must convey to everyone is that whoever you are, wherever you have been, and whatever you have done, God loves you, and you never have any reason to fear that he will harm you or do anything against your best interests.  But if you come to church expecting Him to affirm everything about you, you’re mistaken.  If you come intending to hold on to your own desires and way of living, I give you fair warning: if the church gathering you walk into, be it behind stained glass or in Starbucks, is at all truthful about who God is and what He desires, you will find love and mercy.  But because it is the love and mercy of a Holy God – well, you may find a very real reason to be afraid.  

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Pastor Brent

Providence (Video)

Hey folks – trying something different with this one. You can still check out the blog as usual below, but you can also watch it here on video! Let me know what you think!

Providence

‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord.  ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope’ – Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

Back in 2016, at about the time Donald Trump was about to wrap up the Republican Nomination for President, I remember thinking, ‘If this man becomes President, how will I explain it to my children?’  I thought so much about this that I ran a web search looking for answers.  I found an article that I thought was pure gold (I’d provide you with a link, but unfortunately it is no longer available).  The author suggested that Trump’s rise presented the perfect opportunity to teach our children that the words of scripture are true.  Specifically, she quoted Proverbs 16:18: ‘pride goes before the fall,’ and posited that it would only be a matter of time before a blustering narcissist like Trump would crash and burn.  This struck a chord in me.  Having written a book on the pride of Old Testament kings, I had thought long and hard about the truth of Proverbs 16:18, both in Bible times and ever since. I was convinced.  And so I talked to my children about the proverb.  I told them that somehow, in the story that was unfolding, the truth of scripture would once again be affirmed. 

It’s been over three years since I read that article.    My children and I are still waiting for the author’s prediction to come to pass.  Every time I think that it might, it doesn’t.  I have to admit that at times, I am deeply frustrated.  I find myself echoing the classic lament, ‘How long O Lord?’  Waiting, you see, has always been as hard for me as it was for the Psalmist. 

But just the other day, while wallowing in the worry of the wait, I remembered a word I have too often forgotten. 

Providence. 

When theologians speak of Providence, they refer to the guiding hand of God in all things; the fact that whatever happens, God remains in control.  Romans 8:28 makes the point in classic fashion: ‘in all things, God is working for the good of those who love him, for those called according to his purposes.’  That is, in the midst of all things, both the beautiful and the tragic (and everything in between), God is working to bring about His divine purposes. (Please note: this does not mean that God causes tragic circumstances, just that he works in the midst of them).

It’s a beautiful concept, the notion that no matter what, God has the whole world in his hands.  I think of the story of Joseph in the Old Testament (my personal favorite), the history of a man destined for great things, thrown into a pit and sold into slavery by his brothers, winding up in a fetid prison, seemingly experiencing the death of his dreams.  But in every circumstance, at every turn, God was with Joseph, shaping and molding him into the man he was meant to be.  When he became that man, God raised him from the prison to prominence in Egypt, from which position he was able to feed the world.  Or I think of Ruth and her tragic history, of how the death of her husband was the death of her dreams, yet God, in His amazing providential care, created beauty from her ashes, fueled her with new life, and through her, brought hope and redemption to both Israel and the world.  In each of these stories, and in so many others, we see the guiding hand of providence, working in the soil of bitterness to bring forth an abundant harvest of joy. 

Such stories bring me great hope.  They remind me that God is at work in history.  He always has been, and always will be (even in circumstances far worse than the ones we are passing through now).   I confess that for the most part I can’t make heads or tails out of what God is up to in these Trumpian days.  I can’t understand what good can come from separating families.  Or how things will get better amidst the rise of racist rhetoric and action.  I can’t fathom how the current effort to ‘Make America White Again’ will improve things in the long run.  I can’t comprehend how Christianity will prosper given its identification with this rancid political movement.  Quite frankly, most of the time I’m at a total loss as to how God has been working all things together for good over the past few years. 

But I know He has been.  I know that His providential care is working in the midst of it all.  And so, sometimes of late, when the news cycle is bouncing around in my head at night and I am having trouble falling asleep, I simply affirm, along with Alistair Begg, that ‘providence is a soft pillow and we may lie down in safety knowing that God is in control.’

Whew.

Yes, God is in control, even in the midst of this reality show we call the Trump Presidency.  God is working.  And perhaps, if we look hard enough, we can see some of what He is up to.  Perhaps God is, among other things, preparing and purifying His Church for a new day of service and witness.  He may well be using this time to reveal the hypocrisy that has long existed in His church – the fact that so many who claim to follow the crucified Christ have in fact been following a god who bears little resemblance to him.  Already we can see God calling forth resisters who, in the spirit of the prophets, are speaking truth to power.  He is revealing the vicious racism that is America’s original and undealt with sin, a sin that has always been present, hiding in plain sight, but can hide no more.  He is calling forth a new generation of Jesus followers to raise their voices for a more just world.  He is, we can hope, doing all of this and more, as he leads his Church to a new day when the children of God will live and walk in the way of the Messiah who brought Good News to the poor, announced liberation to the captives, set the oppressed free, and declared the acceptable year of the Lord (Luke 4:18-19).

Just how God will play all of this out, I don’t know.  Just how God will heal the wounds of this era, I don’t know.  But I trust that He will – that He will weave his tapestry of grace even in the midst of all the nonsense, hurt, and pain.  I trust that in the end, His tapestry will be beautiful. 

Until we see that tapestry in all is beauty, it falls to us to trust.  To stand for truth and justice.  To point to what is right.  To love at all costs.  To speak.  To act.  To share solidarity with the suffering and to wait for the day of redemption that is to come.  To do all of this, knowing, in the words of the Apostle Paul, that nothing we ever do in the name of Jesus will ever be in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Because in the end, God will have His way. 

In the end, the prideful will fall, and the glory of God will shine from sea to shining sea. 

Providence is indeed a great comfort in times like these.  It reminds us that, though the sorrow may last for the night, and the night may last longer than we would prefer, the joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5).

Take heart my friends.  Morning is on its way. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

War, Peace, and Mr. Rogers

‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God’ – Matthew 5:9

‘Isn’t peace wonderful?’ – Fred Rogers

This past week, the United States and Iran journeyed to the brink of war.  Thankfully, it seems that cooler heads have, at least for the time being, prevailed.  While I decry the appalling lack of foresight and impulsivity that led to the crisis, I am thankful to leaders on both sides for their willingness to find an off ramp to what might otherwise have been the start of WWIII. 

The crisis of the past week has made me think of how nations and individuals need to look for such off ramps in the face of impending violence.  Which of course leads me to think of Mr. Rogers. 

You would have to be living under a rock right now not to know who Mr. Rogers is.  Even if you didn’t grow up watching his show, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, he is all over the cultural landscape.  Tom Hanks’s biopic, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is a big hit, as was the 2018 documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Fred Rogers exemplified decency and kindness and generosity, things in short supply these days, and so it isn’t surprising that America is taking a nostalgic look back to the life of a man who taught a whole generation how to be decent, kind and generous. 

What many don’t know about Mr. Rogers, (although the movies are making people aware) is that Mr. Rogers was subversive.  Quietly so, but subversive all the same.  His show’s first week on the air coincided with the Tet offensive in Viet Nam.  While America debated the wisdom of the conflict, Mr. Rogers made no bones about where he stood, opening his children’s series with a weeklong ode to peace.

The plotline for that first week of programming focused on a kingdom in crisis.  The Land of Make Believe had become a warzone.  King Friday, fearful of changes in his kingdom wrought by Lady Elaine Fairchild, has become convinced that foreign devils are at work.  His response bears an eerie similarity to today’s headlines.  To prevent further change, he increases security at the border, commences military exercises, and otherwise prepares for war.  What was once a peaceful kingdom turns into a dominion of fear.

As terror descends upon the land, many of the King’s subjects, chiefly Lady Aberlin and Daniel Striped Tiger, become increasingly concerned.  Lamenting the situation, Daniel has a wild idea (what other kind would you expect from a tiger?).  Turning to Lady Aberlin, he suggests they float ‘peace balloons’ over King Friday’s castle to let him know that his subjects want peace.  It seems silly, but the dissenters get to work, filling balloons with helium and writing messages on them: ‘love,’ ‘peaceful coexistence,’ ‘tenderness,’ and most obviously, ‘peace.’  They then send the balloons Friday’s way. 

The balloons land inside the castle grounds.  At first, the paranoid Friday thinks they are enemy paratroopers.  But as he reads the messages, he comes to his senses. ‘Stop all the fighting!’ he shouts.  Repenting of his foolishness, he calls off all preparations for war, and restores peace to The Land of Make Believe.

Now, this is where the cynic rolls his or her eyes and says, ‘That’s a nice story.  But for crying out loud, it’s a children’s TV show, and it takes place in The Land of Make Believe!  It doesn’t work that way in the real world, bub.  In the real world, those who turn their swords into plowshares wind up plowing the fields of those who didn’t.  Better to be ready.  To do it to them before they do it to us.’ 

But the cynic is wrong. 

G.K. Chesterton famously quipped, ‘Christianity has not been tried and found wanting.  It has been found difficult and left untried.’  For the most part, we can apply this to the quest for peace.  War seduces us by promising results.  It’s an effective way, so the argument goes, to deal with your enemies.  Never mind the carnage it leaves behind.  It’s the price you pay to protect yourself.  But there is another option, the option of nonviolence.  And oddly enough, when it is tried, nonviolence works. 

Consider Gandhi’s nonviolent revolution in India (built upon the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount), a revolution that took on an empire and won without firing of a shot.  Or look to the Civil Rights Movement in America in the 1960’s, when the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King and many others armed themselves with nothing but love and determination and brought about positive change.  Go further back in time to Saint Patrick’s missionary work in Ireland, when he helped change a savage land into the pacific outpost that saved civilization (see Thomas Cahill’s masterful book, How The Irish Saved Civilization).  Read the stories of how the Iron Curtain and Communism fell in Eastern Europe before candles and prayers.  Or the story of the five martyred missionaries in Ecuador whose nonviolence became the catalyst for the transformation of a culture that was perhaps the most violent on earth into a community of peace (you can watch the movies, The End of the Spear or Beyond the Gates of Splendor to learn about that amazing story).

The truth is that when people creatively seek peaceful resolutions to conflict, incredible things happen.  Yes, it is often at a cost.  But a far lower one than the cost of war.  Nonviolence and peace may seem silly and difficult, as ridiculous even as floating balloons over a castle to prevent a war.  But history shows that when people seek creative and ridiculous solutions, they often wind up changing the world.

Anyway, that’s what Mr. Rogers thought. 

And guess what?  It’s what God thinks too.  For when God established his plan to save the world, he did something as nonviolent and ridiculous – perhaps more so – as floating balloons over a castle.  He sent a baby into the heart of the Roman Empire, a baby who grew to face the world with no weapons but prayer,  unlimited love, and the guidance of his heavenly Abba, a baby who grew to be a man who would courageously embrace death upon a cross as the way to crush evil. 

Yeah, God is pretty crazy.  As crazy, if not more so, than Daniel Tiger.  But he is also pretty darn creative in his response to a sinful and violent world.    

Which is why, when danger lurks in our world, when change threatens to undermine our ‘kingdoms,’ we can’t respond as king Friday originally did.  We need to be more like Daniel Tiger.  We need to be ridiculously creative and try crazy things in order to achieve peace.  Because believe it or not, doing crazy things is God’s way of doing things.  And believe it or not, it works. 

Maybe it’s time we all started floating some balloons of our own. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Note: Story from Mr. Rogers’ first week of programming is adapted from Michael Long’s Peaceful Neighbor: Discovering the Countercultural Mister Rogers.