“Happy are people who make peace, because they will be called God’s children” (Matt 5.9 CEB).

During the youth camp chapel services, one of the most tremendous times of prayer that we shared with the students was when we preached from this text.  We discussed the brokenness of our world and the resultant rebellion and fragmentation.  Going to the root of who we are, this rebellion pervades all of creation.  And tied to this is the heart-wrenching way of violence that infects human nature and the overall created order.  I was at a loss for words when so many of the children stepped forward for prayer because they had suffered at the hands of violence.  Not only was their prayer for strength to forgive; many asked for God’s help to return kindness to those who cursed them, blessing to those who abandoned them, mercy to the maligning.

During Jesus’ time, as is the case in ours, there were those who contended they were to bring about God’s kingdom through violent means.  Basically, they adopted a tit-for-tat means of enacting “God’s justice.”  In Stassen’s work (Living the Sermon on the Mount), he identifies this group as the Zealots.  These were a band of folks who called themselves the “sons of God.”  At times, they may have had good intentions.  However, Jesus’ words flew in the face of their self-understanding.  Basically, they had an “ends justifies the means” ethic of determining how they would treat others (as opposed to the “ends inform the means”).  This proved catastrophic for the gospel of peace and the way of Christ.  A great resource that goes more in depth about this is – Mere Discipleship: Radical Christianity in a Rebellious World – by Lee C. Camp.

I realize that I’m on hotly debated ground here.  Yet, I’m learning that this is an essential aspect of following Jesus – that of peacemaking.  Admittedly, I continue to struggle in my own life regarding what it means to be a “peacemaker.”  How is this even possible, practically speaking, especially considering my context?  What are ways in which we, as a faith family, can be advocates of peace who show an alternative way of living than that of the violent world in which we live?  I’m still wrestling with such questions.

What I am sure about, however, is that Jesus is the Prince of Peace.  And if we’re going to follow in the “ways of Jesus,” empowered by the Spirit of Christ, then peacemaking cannot be a peripheral issue.  Granted, this doesn’t mean that we don’t struggle with this.  I’m reminded of a statement by Stanley Hauerwas concerning his commitment to nonviolence.  He shoots straight:

“I say I’m a pacifist because I’m a violent [person]… I’m a Texan. I can feel it in every bone I’ve got. And I hate the language of pacifism because it’s too passive. But by avowing it, I create expectations in others that hopefully will help me live faithfully to what I know is true but that I have no confidence in my own ability to live it at all. That’s part of what nonviolence is–the attempt to make our lives vulnerable to others in a way that we need one another. To be against war–which is clearly violent–is a good place to start. But you never know where the violence is in your own life. To say you’re nonviolent is not some position of self-righteousness–you kill and I don’t. It’s rather to make your life available to others in a way that they can help you discover ways you’re implicated in violence that you hadn’t even noticed.”

What often happens when discussing peacemaking is that opponents gravitate to some extreme hypothetical scenario.  For example – “If someone was going to harm a loved one, are you going to sit passively by and watch it?!”  And then based on that hypothetical, they conclude that violence is justified for followers of Jesus.  Or some quickly recite the passage concerning Jesus cleansing the temple as a justification for followers of Jesus to adopt the tit-for-tat way of violence.  Further, some embrace a strictly spiritual (non-physical) interpretation of Matthew 5.9 and contend that Jesus is referring to the peace brought about by the proclamation of the gospel, as persons experience peace with God by surrendering their lives to Christ.  Really?

These are just a few examples.  What I don’t read or hear too often are ways that we can embrace the passage and (re)imagine what it means to be peacemakers.  Of course this entails that we ask some soul-searching questions.  For example – How might walking in the Spirit entail walking in the way of (Christlike) peace?  And what does this look like in everyday life?  What does this mean for a Spirit-filled community of believers?  What does it look like for the Church to find her identity more in the Gospels’ picture of Jesus than in the identity (or citizenship) of a nation-state?  What happens when the Church, after looking at herself in the mirror, walks away and remembers herself as a political party or various form of (this-worldly) governance?  Does she continue to look like Jesus?  Does nonviolent mean passive?  Is it possible actively to combat evil in a peaceful way?  etc.

What’s heartbreaking is when we simply don’t ask the questions; when we don’t wrestle with the call for a peaceable witness representing a peaceable kingdom.  What’s at stake may be more than we realize… more than we imagine.

“Happy are people who have pure hearts, because they will see God” (Matt 5.8 CEB)

Whenever I’ve taken tests that help explain the ways that I learn best, usually “visual learner” is pretty high on the charts. I ask Dee often, whenever she’s explaining a mathematical concept to me, to draw a diagram or illustration.  (For example, “euler diagrams” actually are quite helpful.)  That’s just how my mind works.

When I was a young boy, I would oftentimes draw or sketch as a way to express my feelings.  (I might have had a go at painting if it were more affordable.)  It was as if I could see the image or emotion in my mind as I would do my best to transfer it to my sketch pad. Now, this isn’t to say that it came out a masterpiece. Actually, there weren’t any masterpieces, come to think of it.  But, for me, the process offered a sense of exhale – a sense of getting away from the chaos of things and simply letting go.

Of the various things that I would sketch, comic book characters were among my favorites. I remember sitting in my room for hours staring at a figure as I attempted to see every detail, shade, color, and shape.  I think sometimes I looked at the image so long that it was seared into my mind.  It made the drawing process easier.  Or at least that was my strategy as a child. The longer I viewed the image, the more clearly it appeared how I should go about the sketch.

This memory of drawing comic book characters reminds me of the Scripture where Jesus says that one cannot serve two masters (Matt 6.24).  Of course, we know the text to be speaking of money and God.  But one can substitute anything in the place of money (as being a “master”) and place it beside God and end up getting into trouble.  I think it’s Tim Keller who speaks of idolatry as being any time one makes something ordinary into something ultimate.

When I hear folks speak of illustrating God’s love to others or showing Jesus’ love to the world, I sometimes think of drawing as a young boy.  If I’m really going to capture what’s to be conveyed then I must put all my focus into every detail, shade, color and shape of the image.  In this case, it’s looking at Jesus.  If Jesus illustrates God to us, then the Gospel portrait of him is crucial.  How did he love the rejected?  How did he forgive enemies?  How did he esteem women and children?  How did he treat the marginalized and broken?  How did he combat Satan and violence?

Have you ever attempted to look intently at more than one thing?  Not peripherally, but placing all of your focus on more than one image?  What happens?  You go cross-eyed, and your vision is blurred.  And besides the notion that you’ll forever be cross-eyed if you get slapped on the back hard enough while doing it, the simple fact is that you can’t see clearly when attempting to focus on more than one thing.

Jesus says, “Happy are people who have pure hearts, because they will see God.”  The reference to having a pure heart refers to a “singleness of intention” (Stassen).  Meaning, our focus is upon Him.  Our allegiance is to Him.  Our joy is found solely in Him.  When our hearts beat for Him, then we can see Him.  And our happiness will always be grounded in our vision of God.

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Happy are people who show mercy, because they will receive mercy” (Matt 5.7 CEB)

“I can feel the presence of the Lord, and I’m gonna get my blessing right now!” – These are lyrics to a well-known song in my faith tradition.  If I’m not mistaken, the song is called “The Presence of the Lord.”  For various reasons, I’ve never been a fan of this song.  It always came across a bit self-serving and “I’m-gonna-get-mine-ish.”

Granted, there are plenty of folks within Christian circles who simply want to receive from God the nicest of things for the worst of reasons.  If we’re not careful, we can ask God for bigger, better material objects for the sole purpose of collection.  Now, I must admit, this can be a sticky topic.  One reason for this is how folks tend to superimpose their choices about the purchase of certain items onto their sisters and brothers in the faith family.  I don’t want to come across this way.

I do, however, think we sometimes err on another side of things.  Sometimes we gravitate toward the notion that one who spends “x” amount of $ on such and such is not a spiritual person and hasn’t put Jesus first.  We do well not to judge such matters so quickly.  The above passage is not only about money or what we do with our resources.  Yet, in many ways, it is about such things.  What are we going after in procuring certain items of possession?  When we ask God for his “blessings,” what do we have in mind?

Think also about our tendency in the western world of seeing salvation through an individualistic lens.  For example, one may focus upon salvation as simply the forgiveness of personal sins.  And this is an important aspect of the “saved” life.  Yet, the New Testament witness emphasizes persons being transformed by the Holy Spirit as viable parts of the Body of Christ.  The “body,” “temple,” “people” of God are each corporate images of what it means to be “saved.”  We’re forgiven to participate in the forgiving community.  We’re reconciled with God to be agents of reconciliation with others.  We’re at peace with God through faith in Jesus in order that we now operate as agents of peace to a fragmented and violent world.

At the heart of the example that Jesus gives us is the understanding that God is self-giving love.  Not that he gives of himself from time to time, but that he is self-giving love at the core of his character.  We’ve often heard the hymn – “Though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.  But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings” (Phil 2.6-7a).  I remember sitting in a Galatians class at seminary where a friend of ours, Dr. Adewuya, was teaching about this.  He emphasized the fact that if you want to see how God is, then you must look to the incarnation and, ultimately, the cross.  Here we discover more than a time where God did a great deed.  You see who God is in his activity through Jesus’ self-emptying, other-affirming love.

All this to say that those who are truly happy will be those who have the character of self-giving, other-affirming, Jesus-like love developing in their lives.  And the more that we pour out to others in meeting them at their point of need, the more God pours into our lives.  This includes material resources but goes beyond them.  The popular maxim – “I’m blessed to be a blessing!” – actually gets at this quite well.  If we show God’s mercy to others, which is through a variety of means, then God continues to pour His merciful acts of deliverance into our lives.  In this way, we should desire to be “blessed” in every way that God will allow, as long as we’re being a conduit of God’s blessing to others.

Dr. Carolyn Dirksen posed the question – “What is Pentecostal about Lee University?” to the Lee U new faculty group (2010-2011) during our retreat this past May.  She, like any great teacher, was giving us the opportunity to discuss and share ideas in a rather open-ended manner.  There were many insightful remarks, and I have quite a bit to say on this issue both theologically and personally, but I found myself in tears and unable to speak for fear that I would lose my composure completely in front of intelligent, passionate colleagues.  So, I merely listened, and after about an hour of discussion, when I had pulled myself together, I commented on some remarks given by others.  Yet, I never actually vocalized my opinion.  I wish I could have then, but the scars were too fresh.

My husband and I had found out at the end of the Fall semester that we were pregnant with our first child.  We were so excited, and all my colleagues at Lee were encouraging and offered advice here and there.  When school started back in January, I went for a check-up, and the baby’s heart had stopped beating.  There was no sign of life in our little bundle of joy, and my heart shattered into a hundred-thousand pieces.  I could write pages upon pages and still not express the loss and heartbreak that I experienced over the next few months.  I wish I could say that I am completely over things, but that would not be true as I am crying fresh tears even while writing this.

So, what does my heartbreak have to do with Lee University being “Pentecostal”?  As I was listening to the many responses to the question posed by Dr. Dirksen, I was reminded about my colleagues at Lee and their response to the tragedy my husband and I experienced.  I cannot put into words how much love I felt from the administration, faculty and staff at Lee during this most painful time in my life.  Within a matter of a few hours from when the first person at Lee found out about what was going on, gestures of Christ-like love filled our home.  There were phone calls of support without being preachy and overbearing.  The smell of flowers filled our home.  Letters and cards showed up like manna from Heaven, and food almost magically appeared.  People loved us.  A community stepped up and wrapped its arms around us like Christ pulling those children into his arms in the Gospels.

This, to me, is how Lee is Pentecostal.  We are a community that joins together to rejoice when a day of the year is officially declared to be Dr. Paul Conn day for the state of Tennessee (By the way, congratulations, Dr. Conn!), but we also insist on mourning when a new, non-tenured faculty member loses her child.  And, we do the latter with as much gusto as the former.  Thank you, all my friends at Lee, for showing me what Pentecost is about – a community aflame with loving God and loving each other by the power of the Spirit.

At my ordination ceremony a few weeks back, it was noted (by Dr. Walker, I believe) that it’s vital that fathers and mothers in the faith embody that which our children should aspire to be. Apart from doing this, children in the Lord have no one (or nothing) that signifies their future. This encourages a generation to live without any concern for who they will be in the future or who they’re becoming along the way.

This brought to mind how plagued many folks are with living for the moment. Persons without mothers and fathers in the faith blazing a trail of what it means to trust Jesus no matter what find themselves suffering spiritual nearsightedness. The result – no goals, sporadic-disproportional growth and little positive impact for God’s Kingdom. In our reading today in Micah, chapter 6 stuck out particularly. Micah says:

The LORD has a lawsuit
against his people;
with Israel he will argue.
³ “My people, what did I ever do to you?
How have I wearied you? Answer me!
⁴ I brought you up out of the land of Egypt;
I redeemed you
from the house of slavery.
I sent Moses, Aaron, and Miriam before you.
⁵ My people, remember what
Moab’s King Balak had planned,
and how Balaam, Beor’s son,
answered him!
Remember everything^[a]
from Shittim to Gilgal,
that you might learn to recognize
the righteous acts of the LORD! (CEB)

It was this act of remembering that got our attention.  God calls us to proper remembrance of all that God’s done in redemptive history in order that we “recognize the righteous acts of the LORD.”  In many ways, I see the role of mothers and fathers in the faith as facilitating such remembrance.  It’s the substantial relationships with and amazing testimonies of our parents in the faith that help us learn discernment, vision and faith.  In order to surge forward, we must learn from our past.  Building strong relationships with those who have walked this trail much longer than we have is a vital element of a healthy faith family.  Otherwise, we risk forgetting the story of God in our lives.  And if we forget the story of God in our lives, then we oftentimes walk away from the God of the story.

As a dear friend told me when I first started this journey, you must make sure to have in your life a Paul, Barnabas and Timothy.  Paul speaks into your life what it means to grow up in God and helps you see the big picture of God’s story (of which you are now part).  Barnabas stands beside you along the journey and encourages you forward in treasuring Christ as the supreme treasure of your life.  Timothy represents those whom God places in your life that you have the opportunity to pour into concerning what it means to live for Jesus.  You invest in their lives so that the legacy of faith goes on and the fires of Pentecost are passed on to our children in the Lord.

Recognizing the ministry of the Holy Spirit around the world, Pentecostals should be some of the most ecumenical, other-affirming, bridge-building folks on the planet, right?  I don’t say this with a triumphalistic flare; only that those who claim to be Spirit-filled (like Jesus) should, obviously, be persons who affirm the universal scope of God’s love.

Granted, I think the scare lies in the word “universal.”  “Did he say ‘Universalism’?”  Nope.  “Universal,” as in worldwide.  It’s little secret that there is quite a bit of talk going on these days about universalism.  And rest assured, I’m not going to comment on any particular book at the moment until I’ve read it, of course.  What I can say is that God’s mercy and love are quite a bit wider than often made out to be.  Meaning that many things that we use to determine who’s “in” and who’s “out,” God simply doesn’t use.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I completely agree with the particularity of salvation through what God has brought about through Jesus.  Apart from Jesus, of course, we’re all messed up in a mighty big way – the radical relational disconnect (!).  If the truth be told, even those who are following Jesus (me included!) are still messed up in more ways than we care to admit.  Think about the everyday, unedited growth processes that Jesus-followers undergo along the journey of salvation.  I know all too well what it means to trip, stumble and fall when learning how to walk.  No excuse intended.  It’s simply my own experience.

Too often, however, we argue over topics of peace, love, forgiveness, etc. within the Church as if they’re simply abstract issues that have little to do with our identity as children of God.  Of course it’s easy to decry peace-making when embracing such would jeopardize my safety, preferences, stuff, comfort, etc.  Love, for example, is a sketchy subject when it comes to confronting “us vs. them” distinctions that keep others at a safe distance.  Topics such as universal mercy and love (healthcare?) sound good in theory but in reality are simply too demanding and really impractical for the way of life that we’re used to.  What is scary is when we don’t even wrestle with such issues.  We simply echo the arguments of others.

• Jesus says, “Love your enemies” BUT what he really meant was…
• Jesus says, “If you don’t forgive others, you won’t be forgiven…” BUT what he really meant was…
• James 1:27 says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world,” BUT what this really means is…
• Paul says, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” BUT what he really meant was…

Undoubtedly this isn’t a new issue.  And it’s not to say that interpretation isn’t a dynamic process (involving, for example, what W. Randolph Tate calls the worlds behind, within and in front of the text).  Trying to follow Jesus is downright disorienting if we’re using the same ole’ worldly compass.  The tendency, unfortunately, is to superimpose our (Before-Christ) value system onto this relationship.  After all, that’s easier!  And this includes how we go about being “right” or standing for the “truth.”  People have long debated what it means to follow Jesus.  This isn’t a bad thing.  What does it mean to be faithful to Jesus?  What does it mean to be part of the faith family? etc.  I just wonder sometimes about the way we go about discussing such things.  Are they from deep-set convictions from our wrestling with the Scriptures as we do life together as part of our faith family?  Or have I succumbed to theology and spirituality more akin to Atari’s classic Pong?  Cold, routinized debate that seems exciting because I know nothing better but, overall, it doesn’t get us very far.

We must wrestle with Scriptural issues, even very much controversial ones (e.g. hell), in light of the overall context of Jesus showing us who God is, how God loves, and how God forgives.  For, if we’re not careful, we can take it upon ourselves (as a mandate from Heaven) to patrol for heresy in one area but obviously not in others. How easy it is to “defend truth” yet not be truthful in doing so.  Our theology must be critiqued by the faith family, but it’s helpful to include hospitality and mercy in one’s conversation, not quickly gathering the sticks and bringing the torches.

² For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. ³ “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴ How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? – Matthew 7:2-4 (NIV, 2011)

Simple Sunday musings,

Shannon

Thanks Sonny and Mike for their comments on the previous post (Is God a Capitalist?).  My response was a bit lengthy, so I’ve made it into another post.  May the conversation continue…

I too think that many are blinded by the inwardly focused, “us vs. them” mentality which finds ample sustenance in capitalism.  Granted, there are benefits and detriments to various forms of governance.  And, without a doubt, not all forms of (this worldly) governance are equal (with some seemingly maintaining particular values or principles akin to the Kingdom of God).  Yet, even though a system of governance bears similitude to the Kingdom of God by sharing a particular value or perspective regarding a certain issue/area, the goals of each are held in tact, as well as the overall nature of things.  The Kingdom of God is more than just a set of values or principles.  The Kingdom finds life in the inseparable person and work of Jesus Christ.  As Mike mentioned, “the very nature of capitalism brings it into conflict with the Kingdom of God simply because its goals are the attainment of wealth for the benefit of self.”  There remains a distinction between the worldly system and the people of God.  How else will the world know that it’s the world, apart from the Church truly being the Church?¹

Furthermore, it’s amazing how some folks will defend a particular political party in the name of “morality” or “godly values,” whilst many components of the same party which stand over against the ways of Jesus are rather “hush hush.”  Interestingly enough, some church folks raise the banner of conservatism in the name of “life,” yet have no problem with war whatsoever (no matter the justification).  Further, I have read numerous, cutting articles concerning our government “taking from those who work and giving to those who do not,” particularly in addressing the current health care crisis.  Yet, how might the Kingdom of God envisage caring for our neighbor?  This doesn’t mean that the Church disavows political opinion.  And we must remember, the Church is more than just a bunch of  people who are supposed to be “nice” and passive.  The issue should push us to reflection, conversation and prayer.  Are there ways of community life in which the Church (unwittingly) looks more like a people with a fragmented story than the people who live according to the narrative of the compassionate, hospitable, loving God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob (& Jesus)?

Admittedly, some folks (of every people group) abuse, neglect and swindle systems for the benefit of self.  Yet, does this justify the Church turning a deaf ear and blind eye toward the call for loving the neighbor (even/especially our enemies), which is part and parcel to being the people of God?  Oftentimes, if we aren’t careful, the primary impetus for our positions will stand contra the very call of the Spirit to form Christ in us – those who bear his name and live in accordance to his dream, his vision, his character – while the world continues to wage war, deceive, and, ultimately, deteriorate into the abyss of heartless “freedom.”

Peace

¹ See Stanley Hauerwas, A Community of Character: Toward a Constructive Christian Social Ethic (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981).

Sorry it’s been a while since our last post.  Hopefully, there are still a few folks who will drop in every now and again to read or share.

Dee is doing well.  Actually, she’s working on her dissertation today (meeting with her adviser this afternoon).  She’s making good progress in her studies and very much enjoys her class that she teaches each week (consisting of both graduate & undergraduate students).

I was thinking today of the impact of our communication with one another, especially as members of the faith family.  Do we consider much the influence our conversations bear upon those around us?  This seems to be an area where one can ever-so-easily drift, slowly but surely, from the shores of guarded words.  When does general conversation concerning someone else transition to being ‘gossip’?  How do we safeguard against going ‘too far’ concerning information, opinion, or ‘concern’ in talking of others?

Oftentimes, we celebrate those who speak well.  Those who can wow us oratorically tend to stand out from the crowds.  Yet, what of those who are silent well?  What of those who seem not to belittle others in order to make themselves look all the better?  How do we cultivate good conversation?  That conversation that exalts Christ and radiates his love toward others.

Just thinking… :happy:

I was talking with a friend recently about issues of denominations, interdenominational fellowships, non-denominational congregations and the like.  We were discussing the benefits and possible detriments of each.  This conversation took place on the heels of a project that I’ve been working on in 1 and 2 Corinthians.

Throughout the Corinthian correspondence, the author, Paul, has been dealing with various in-your-face, nitty-gritty pastoral issues, which require a firm yet tactful approach.  The Christlike heart of the apostle bleeds through his exhortations, admonitions and rhetorical prowess, thereby calling the Corinthian believers to reevaluate their relations with God, others in the faith family, as well as unbelievers.  One thing that stood out to me during this study is how oftentimes we miss the big picture of following Jesus as part of a larger community.  It’s easier uncritically to subscribe to popular labels by which we derive a sense of belongingness and then to allow such identity-markers (be it theological labels, denominational affiliations, patriotic platforms, etc.) to trump the dynamic call to follow Jesus in every area of one’s life. Yet, with Jesus as our Lord, where else should we derive our ultimate sense of idenity other than Him?

Granted, it would be much easier if personal piety were the only requirement in Kingdom living.  And this isn’t to knock personal, pietistic commitments which we have adopted as essential in our lives.  The problem arises when our understanding of “Christian spirituality” becomes weighed down with inwardly focused, performance-driven, non-Christlike lifestyles.  And I’m speaking of myself more than any other.

It reminds me of a movie we recently watched called Forever Strong.  The main character in the movie grew to realize how life is directly connected to the well-being of others.  It’s not about being the star of the show (he was a strong rugby player who was the one who scored most of the points).  It’s about winning as a team.  If we embrace a similar mindset in the church (which is actually the NT witness of being the people of God), then we grow to realize that at the heart of following Jesus is the well-being of others (“saved” or “unsaved”).

As I was studying 1 and 2 Corinthians, I was greatly impressed with how Paul, who had every right to demand the privileges of an apostle (e.g. not having to work another job for money), laid down his rights for the well-being of the community.  And this community included many people who were obviously influenced by those who opposed Paul and his ministry.  Yet, the apostle’s “spirituality” was outwardly focused, Spirit empowered and Christ-centered.  His ministry was characterized by selflessness and suffering love.

And in a society where the label “Pentecostal” is oftentimes loosely connected with such selfless and love-infused ministry like Paul’s, I wonder what would happen if we truly grabbed hold of “Pentecostal fire” and were filled with the Spirit of Christ.  Would there be room for hero worship, individualism, and narcissism in our local assemblies?  Would it redefine our understanding of “missions” and possibly critique our certainties regarding spirituality and grace?

Late night musings,  :sleeping:

Shannon

Dee and I hope to have everything packed up and ready to move by tomorrow.  We’ll be moving most everything on Saturday morning (with the help of a few friends).  We’re excited to say the least about the new place.  It’s a bit closer to the church and still has good access to the interstate for Dee to commute to UAB.  All in all, the entire thing is a miraculous display of God’s provision.

Last night, we had drama practice at the church for the kids, as many of them will be participating in a drama this weekend for Father’s Day.  There were five kids who were not in drama practice with whom I had an opportunity to discuss a lesson from Mark 12.28-34.  The lesson was called “Jesus Rules Myspace.”  We discussed the popular (mis)understanding of compartmentalized Christianity.  So many times, we are tempted to view Christianity as our “spiritual” commitment which has no bearing upon practical, everyday life.  Yet, Jesus’ response to the scribe who asked what was the most important commandment of all was twofold.  First, he quoted the “shema” (Hear, O Israel) from Deut 6.  Many translations (e.g. ESV, NIV, NKJV, etc.) have “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.”  In this, he was addressing a polytheistic culture which worshiped many different gods (as it is today), and echoed the importance of living all of life in sole allegience to God.  A viable (alternate) translation of Deut. 6.4 which is brought out in the NRSV is “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.”  Meaning, the crux of the text isn’t simply the oneness of God’s being, as it is a call to live under the one true God’s lordship.  Alan Hirsch does a great job of bringing out this point in his work – The Forgotten Ways.

The second aspect of the command was to “love your neighbor as yourself.”  Here, we spoke of the implications of our commitment to Christ.  If we say that we love God, but treat others like dirt, then we do not rightly understand what it means to live all of life under Christ’s lordship (cf. 1 John 2.9).  We must (re)define salvation as living life under Christ’s lordship by the presence and power of God’s Spirit rather than simply seeing salvation as a “get out of hell free card” (not trying to be crass).  I think Hirsch (and others; e.g. Eugene Peterson) is right when he discusses the trouble that our “sacred/secular” divide has caused many in the church.  That if we “master” the sacred space (which is usually defined by buildings, religious mannerisms, inflexible liturgies, etc.), then the ethic by which we live can be different in the “secular” space (which we often call “the real world”).  Yet, in light of Christ’s (called-for) lordship, all of life is sacred.  There is no space which should be outside the influence of God’s love.  And the ethic of the Kingdom, by which all Christ followers are to live, is one which looks like that of our Lord (total love for God and others).  Thus, as a Christian (Christ follower), we are in process towards total surrender to the Spirit of Christ.  That is, Jesus is to rule “myspace” (my heart, soul, mind and strength).

Blessings,

Shannon