But then what happens?
24 November 2009
I’m always a little disappointed when I finish reading the fast-paced, Spirit-driven book of Acts. In one way it’s like reading a great novel – you get to the end, but then wish you had never read it so you can read it again for the first time. But I’m also disappointed that the Bible does not record what happens next. I’d like to know what would have been written in Acts 29. And 30. And 31!
I’d love to know…
- What did Paul say (preach!) to Caesar when his case was finally heard at the highest levels of Rome’s courts?
- Was Paul able to return to any of the churches he planted or visited during his prior journeys?
- Did Paul ever make it to Spain as he hoped and planned?
- And where did the other apostles end up all going? Did Peter meet up with Paul in Rome and eventually become the bishop there as Catholics believe? How far did Andrew make it – Romania? Ukraine? Russia, even? Were Matthew and Bartholomew ever in Africa? Did Thomas really go all the way to India as tradition suggests?
Perhaps Luke concludes Acts where he does because he’s actually writing the events recorded in the final chapter as they are happening; he doesn’t know what’s coming next because it hasn’t happened yet!
On the other hand, maybe Luke wrote Acts years later, knowing what happened next, but intentionally ending his account at chapter 28. He may have carefully chosen his conclusion, highlighting how Paul “proclaimed the Kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ – with all boldness and without hindrance!” In other words, “the Gospel of God’s kingly rule [is] irrepressibly surging ahead without let-up or hindrance in spite of human opposition or nature’s storms” (David Gooding, True to the Faith, p. 376). With these words, Luke helps us realize how Paul’s work has gone on through the centuries with others picking up where he left off. Indeed, in ending Acts this way, Luke inspires us to see ourselves as continuing the story of Jesus’ mission to the ends of the earth!
Recommended reading:
Closing pages of William H. Willimon’s commentary on Acts
Revolutionaries who remember
11 November 2009
I doubt anyone came to the Telkwa Cenotaph for today’s Remembrance Day observation thinking they were radicals or revolutionaries. But in at least one way, everyone there was just that by the very fact that we were taking time to remember.
Remembering is not an activity that is held in high regard in our society and culture; anything over a month (a week?) old is irrelevant. How far back does your Facebook newsfeed go by default? A few hours? A kid who’s part of the same church as I am told me the other day that my 2-year-old computer is an antique! In general, if we’re not preoccupied by the present moment, we’re thinking about the future – our own personal future, or what the world or technology or the climate will be like in years to come. That we spend time remembering things that may well have happened long before we were even born can certainly be seen as radical, even revolutionary in our time!
I submit, however, that remembering is not only a good thing to do (e.g. to be encouraged by God’s provision in the past or to learn from yesterday’s dumb mistakes), it’s also a biblical thing to do. Think of the Israelites crossing the Jordan River. Ushering them into the Promised Land, God parts the waters like He did with the Red Sea at the beginning of the exodus. However, before they all make it across the Jordan, God commands some people to take boulders from the middle of the riverbed and pile them up on the other side. Why? Here’s God’s reason: “In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ For the LORD your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over… He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the LORD is powerful and so that you might always fear the LORD your God” (Joshua 4:21-24). In short, God wanted them to remember and pass along what He had done for them.
Similarly, we gather at a monument today to remember fallen soldiers who fought so that we may have a free country (something we so often take for granted). As we remember events from the past, we can give thanks to God for how He has orchestrated history in such a way that Canadians live in freedom today. But what’s more, in thinking about historical events, we see ourselves as part of something bigger than just ourselves. We find ourselves part of a larger story. We might not know a single one of the soldiers who sacrificed their lives, and yet our lives have been impacted for the better by them.
The apostle Paul encouraged young Pastor Timothy with these words: “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is [the] Gospel…” I don’t think Paul only means for Timothy to remember Jesus’ divinity and humanity as historical facts or as a spiritual reality – though those things are certainly good and true. I hear Paul encouraging Timothy to remember Jesus so that Timothy can find himself part of the larger story of Jesus’ life and mission. It’s as though Paul is saying, Think about Jesus and how, because of Him, you are part of a grand, ongoing story that has meaning and a purpose.
This is a great story. It will revolutionize your life. This story takes seriously our brokenness and pain. It takes seriously the wars that were fought and are being fought – many overseas, many in our own strife-filled homes. This grand story reminds us how we are lost in sin. …Lost in sin apart from Christ. In Christ, there is forgiveness and redemption! This isn’t something to just think about on your deathbed; this is something in which to immerse yourself today. Jesus invites you to find your identity, to locate and live your particular story within the larger narrative of His story of redemption.
Part of this involves remembering men and women who have given us the ability to explore such things in freedom regardless of our convictions about warfare. And part of this involves remembering who you were apart from Christ, how He has rescued you from the devil-warlord, and where He desires to lead you in freedom as you are obedient to Him. (Freedom in obedience… It sounds like a paradox, I know.)
So I encourage you to remember. And to remember well.
Artwork:
”Valiant Poppies” by Amanda Dagg
Inspired in part by:
”Jake’s Gift” by Julia Mackey
In the good company of doubters
3 November 2009
I preached on John 20 this past Sunday, which includes the well-known story of “Doubting Thomas.” Personally, I think Thomas has gotten a bad rap. Two reasons…
:: O N E ::
People perceive Thomas as a failure because they perceive that doubt = bad. That’s not true. Doubting something can lead you to investigating it and discovering its veracity (or lack thereof) for yourself. Having doubts – even about faith – can actually end up strengthening faith. Thomas’ time of doubt concludes with him confessing to Jesus: “My Lord and my God!” (20:28). From this famous (or infamous) doubter comes “the greatest confession of the Lord who rose from the dead” (George R. Beasley-Murray’s commentary on John’s Gospel, p. 385). This can be anyone’s experience, assuming you decide to actually wrestle with your doubts. If you say you have doubts about faith but do nothing to work through your doubt, then I’d call it cynicism or flat-out disbelief, not doubt.
Because people perceive doubt = bad, I think many hear disappointment or impatience in Jesus’ words when he says to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe” (20:27). I do not believe that accurately captures the tone of Jesus’ voice or the language of His posture. Instead, I see Jesus simply doing what He always does – taking the initiative, doing what it takes to draw, to woo people to Him. So Thomas is not a failure. He serves as part of the picture of what Jesus can and will do to strengthen people in their faith.
:: T W O ::
The other reason Thomas has received a bad rap is because he is often portrayed as the only doubter in the room. It’s only been one short week since the rest of the disciples were in the same room, “the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders” (20:19). Why were they huddled together in secrecy and fear? They had heard the report of Mary Magdalene, that she had seen the empty tomb and the living Jesus. Why else were they huddled together in secrecy and fear except for the likely reason that they doubted Mary’s report. They, too, wouldn’t believe the report without proof! A week before the events concluding John 20, the room was filled with doubters. In John 20:25, Thomas is the only one doubting now, yet he’s the one we single out and call Doubting Thomas. The poor guy. (Gail R. O’Day writes about this in her commentary on John’s Gospel, pp. 846, 849.)
Personally, I receive comfort in reflecting on how I am in good company when I have doubts, knowing that the very first disciples experienced the same thing – and had their doubts taken seriously and resolved.
Art:
”Doubt of Thomas” by modern Japanese artist Sadao Watanabe.
www.scriptum.com/art.cfm?rec_id=1544
I am still not religious
2 November 2009
To follow up on what I wrote last week, Jesus desires relationship with us more than watching us be busy with religious activity. Notice I am not saying that activity is bad; rather, it needs to be the happy by-product of knowing and loving Jesus, following and obeying as He leads. How sad it is when our busy activity distracts and disconnects us from our Lord!
In his commentary on John’s Gospel, Gary M. Burge writes:
Faith, then, is more a matter of relationship than of creed. (p. 577, discussing John 20)
Now, I don’t think the author is bashing creeds, confessions, or catechisms. I think what he is saying is that faith is more than only storing the correct information in your head and being able to let it pour out of your mouth. Not that knowledge and speaking up are useless; it’s just that those abilities do not necessarily equal having true faith.
I think the Reformed tradition has accurately (though perhaps excessively) been accused of focusing too much on the head and too little on the heart. Granted, there’s something appealing to sticking exclusively with intelligence: You can convince yourself that you have mastered it as you would a course at school; you can appraise and judge other people and traditions by how closely they believe the same things you do; you are less vulnerable than when emotions get involved. Unfortunately, keeping faith as only a cerebral thing can result in us keeping Jesus at arm’s length. I guess there’s something appealing about that, too: We’ll feel we can avoid following Him when He leads where we don’t want to go. But we’ll also miss out on deeply experiencing His power and enjoying His close friendship.
Here again is Dr. Burge’s comment in the context of its paragraph:
Faith, then, is more a matter of relationship than of creed. On occasion it means accepting that a message given is true and trustworthy, but for the most part, faith springs from confidence in the works Jesus has done and results in a desire to invest all hope in Him. Faith is personal and transforming since it is dependent on a Person who has demonstrated Himself powerful and trustworthy. It is the decision whereby a person gains eternal life and … become[s] a child of God, and so marks himself or herself as a member of Jesus’ community.
I am not religious
26 October 2009
If you could have asked the apostle Paul whether he was religious, I think he might have answered, “No.”
In Acts 17:22, Paul describes the first century people of Athens as being “very religious.” The study note in my TNIV Study Bible says that the word religious in 17:22 can also be translated as superstitious. While Paul might be congratulating the Athenians for their spirituality, I think it’s more likely he is criticising them for their religiosity. (We might call it churchianity today.)
It’s as though Paul is saying, You are religious? Well, you have received your reward in full. Paul is not interested in people becoming “more religious” or swapping one religion for another, per se. Instead he passionately invites people to trade in their religion(s) for a relationship. Paul introduces people to the Man whom God has appointed, the One who He raised from the dead (see 17:31) – namely Jesus.
In some contexts, religious might not be a bad way to describe yourself. However, when you’re asked about faith-related matters, consider saying that you are relational instead of religious, that you are in Christ. There is nothing superstitious about Him; He is very real and very present.
Learning to love
15 October 2009
The Sacred Marriage seminar with Gary Thomas last weekend was a tremendous blessing. Marriages were strengthened. I’m certain some were even saved.
A realization I personally came to is how most people (myself included) get married for selfish reasons. Before meeting and marrying Monica, I recall thinking things like, When am I going to find a wife so I won’t be lonely? When will I find the special someone with whom I can share my joys and struggles? I wanted to get married to be loved. The word selfish probably never came from my lips, but, consciously and/or subconsciously, that’s how my mind worked. I badly wanted the joy of being married; ironically, selfishness never leads to joy.
Most people get married in the hopes that they will be loved.
What if most people married in order to learn to love?
Catch the difference? Whether it’s conveyed explicitly or implicitly, when individuals marry to be loved, they do so thinking, What’s in it for me? As soon as one’s partner’s love wanes in the ebb and flow of life together, one may begin thinking that it’s time to abandon his/her marriage.
On the other hand, when we marry in order to learn to love, the focus shifts away from oneself and towards one’s spouse. Now the other’s character and needs and wants become the highest priority. The marriage is stronger because it is not as easily threatened by seasons of decreased romance and passion. The value of our marriage and of our spouse is no longer calculated based on our spouse’s performance, by the grade we’ve assessed his/her current level of love expressed towards us. Instead, with perseverance, we’ll keep asking ourselves, What am I doing to love my partner deeper and better?
Asking questions like that keeps me from acting like I’m still single despite being married. Questions like that will train my brain to think more of we and less of me. And apparently it takes 10-15 years to really begin figuring this out. How many people forfeit the joy that could be theirs by bailing out before the me truly turns into a united we?
David Letterman’s “confession” about sex
3 October 2009
Last week, David Letterman of CBS’s Late Show admitted to having had sex at undisclosed points in time with women who work for him. His admission was a response to a blackmail threat he received from a CBS employee who allegedly threatened to go public with this unless Mr. Letterman gave him $2 million. By publicly admitting this, Mr. Letterman is attempting to diffuse a scandal: Now that the secret is out, the blackmail letter is useless. The whole business has received publicity across American and Canadian networks (e.g. CBC’s pieces with their ensuing online discussions are here and here) and the video of the admission has been uploaded numerous times to YouTube…
I’m intrigued by the language David Letterman uses in this clip. He quotes the blackmail letter writer as telling him: “I know that you do some terrible, terrible things.” Accompanying the letter was a package, and “contained in the package,” says David Letterman, “was stuff to prove that I do terrible things.”
Although he expresses guilt, never in the clip does David Letterman admit that he himself recognizes that what he did was indeed terrible. The closest he gets is saying that what he did was “embarrassing” to himself and the women involved.
At first I thought of David Letterman’s words as a confession. But I don’t think that accurately describes it. It’s more like he gives an admission to doing something, and I’m starting to see that admission and confession are not the same thing. When you admit something, you’re not necessarily disclosing something bad that you’ve done. On the other hand, when you confess something, you own up to the fact that what you did was indeed bad. I will confess to my wife if I polished off the last of the ice cream. I do not confess to my wife that I went and bought a bucket of ice cream. (Well, uh, maybe I do need to confess how much ice cream I buy… For another example: I do not confess to my wife that I’ve washed and put away the dishes.)
Admission is the easier thing to do: It’s just stating a fact. You let people know that you did something, but assign no moral value to that action. It’s rather politically correct. After all, what you did is your own business and no one has the right to suggest that your moral compass is wrong.
Confession is the harder thing to do: It indeed reveals that the morality of what you did is questionable at best and just plain wicked at worst. That, in turn, prompts you to further action such as seeking forgiveness and repenting. And when you repent, you declare that you are turning 180° away from what you did and towards something different. When disciples of Jesus repent of their sins, they turn away from those sins and instead – by the grace of Jesus and with the help of the Holy Spirit – turn towards God and His will. In one of his sermons, Matt Chandler from The Village Church in Highland Village TX defines repentance as “making war against your sin.” This is politically incorrect, even offensive in a culture where everyone is entitled to their own sense of morality and where suggesting that what someone does is sinful could label you narrow-minded or a bigot.
Yet it is through repentance that we receive hope. In her book, Speaking of Sin, theologian Barbara Brown Taylor writes that “the recognition that something is wrong is the first step towards setting it right again. There is no help for those who admit no need of help … [and] no repair for those who insist that nothing is broken.” After quoting Rev. Taylor, Peter Schuurman, a father of two and a professor at Redeemer University College, writes in Christian Courier: “‘Sin’ may be a four-letter word for many, but without it there can be no redemption.”
David Letterman may have minimized a scandal and perhaps even assuaged his guilt through his admission a few nights ago, but I wonder whether he is experiencing the marvellous, redemptive freedom gained by true confession.
I’ve been waiting all night for you to wake up!
28 August 2009
A few weeks ago when Monica and I were saying good night, I said (in autopilot mode), “See you in the morning.” Usually Monica replies affirmatively with a “Yep” or “Mm-hmm.” On this particular night, Monica said, “I look forward to it.”
”Really?” I asked.
”Of course,” she said, rolling over.
Well, that gave me incentive to sleep well and wake up again in the morning, knowing that someone was looking forward to me being awake again!
I wonder if God says something similar to His children each night. Does He look forward to us waking up again in the morning? Is He almost childlike in His delight when our eyes blink open first thing in the morning? If we listen, can we hear Him say, “I’m glad you’re awake again! I’ve been working all through the night building my Kingdom. All that’s missing now is you! Please, let me lead you through this day by my Holy Spirit so you can participate in the good things I have planned. I don’t want you to miss anything!”
It’s pretty encouraging to know one’s wife looks forward to her husband waking up after a good night’s sleep. How much more amazing is it to know that our heavenly Father thinks the same thing about His children! Let’s just not miss the ways He’s marked out for us nor the good things He’s been planning.
More sticks and stones and hurtful words
11 August 2009
Commenting on my post yesterday about the hurt words can cause, my colleague Rick Apperson reminded me of something in New Testament writer James’ letter:
Everyone should be quick to listen,
slow to speak,
and slow to become angry. (James 1:19)
James is also the one who compares the tongue to the spark that starts a forest fire. That analogy is very apt for those of us living in British Columbia where “more than 2000 forest fires have been sparked, stretching firefighting resources and forcing thousands of evacuations,” as CBC reports. Members of the church I pastor are forest firefighters, so I have heard some firsthand reports of the havoc fires are causing around the province. Wide swaths of backcountry popular with locals and tourists alike have been reduced to ashen rubble. Countless hectares of trees and undergrowth have been ravaged, decimating the animals who lived in them. Families have been forced out of their homes, some returning only to charred remains of what once used to be their house.
That’s what James compares a careless tongue to – the spark that sets off an inferno of destruction…
Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue is also a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. (James 3:5-6)
No wonder we should think before we speak.
Photo:
Glenrosa Fire near Kelowna BC, July 2009, from CBC.ca’s “BC’s Wildfires in 2009” photo gallery.
Catching the wind
31 July 2009
Alex Araujo of Partners International gives us two metaphors for leadership and other aspects of life: powerboat or sailboat. See how he compares the two types of watercraft…
|
Metaphor |
Power |
Characteristics |
Concern of Operator |
|
Powerboat |
Internal |
Can move regardless of the wind’s direction. Efficiently and predictably moves people from one place to another. |
Internal processes – wind may affect a powerboat, but on normal days is not a decisive factor in powerboating. |
|
Sailboat |
External |
Boat must be structured and positioned to catch wind. |
External processes – need to pay attention to the wind and work with it. |
Mr. Araujo challenges us to consider what metaphor best represents our ways of doing ministry, of mission, even of walking with God. Our culture encourages us to be “powerboaters,” wanting much control over our destiny. Perhaps a more biblical model to leadership and life is the sailboat. Yes, we still have some control, but we keep a closer watch on the weather, testing the winds of the Holy Spirit and seeking His direction and His power. There is also a contentment with staying put for a while when the wind seems all but gone. The journey and the time it takes are just as valuable for the sailboater as the destination, likely more so than for the powerboater.
Reflecting on Mr. Araujo’s work, Al Karsten of Christian Reformed World Missions (to whom I’m indebted for my reflections here on the subject) writes in a newsletter to pastors:
…Someone who knows nothing of sailing might conclude that it suggests passivity: Just sit back and let the wind take you. Not so. Sailors need a boat and gear designed and built with great care, an able crew, and great skill in navigating and catching the wind. If any of these are lacking, they may be unable to manoeuvre to catch the wind properly, get themselves into serious danger, or simply not reach their destination. Powerboaters need these same things, but I think in less measure than sailors. Many [people] confess to having been powerboaters throughout their careers [and lives. But] they express a longing to sail.
Did you know that in both Hebrew and Greek, the same words are used for spirit and wind? Do you sense the wind of the Holy Spirit blowing in a certain direction? Perhaps you’ve never given it much thought or prayer. Or perhaps you’re in powerboat mode, going your own way and completely oblivious to the wind. Stop, test the winds, and invite God to help you adjust your course as He leads.
References:
A written summary of Alex Araujo’s speech entitled “To Catch the Wind: A New Metaphor for Cross-Cultural Mission Partnerships” is here. The sailboat picture above comes from here.