December 10th, 2009 § 2
This morning as I read Amos I came across a curious phrase in the ninth chapter:
“And I will fix my eyes upon them for evil and not for good” (Amos 9:4b).
In the first verse of the chapter makes clear that Amos is speaking the words of God as an authoritative Old Testament prophet, “I saw the Lord standing beside the alter, and he said…”
So my question is, What is the meaning of “for evil” in this verse?
November 30th, 2009 § 2
As probably most everybody knows at this point, Matt Chandler and his family received some bad news over the holidays.
Like many people, I sometimes find it hard to understand God’s ways when it comes to stuff like this. I don’t know Matt personally, but as part of the Acts 29 Network, he has had a huge influence on me through his teachings at various conferences and through his podcasts. Clearly Matt is being used mightily by God…which is why it’s baffling and quite frankly disheartening to hear that he has a brain tumor.
I know the intellectual arguments that God is sovereign and glorified in all situations, including this one. And I believe them. But still, it is always hard to see them in action.
This morning, as I was studying the Psalms, I came across this passage:
For the righteous will never be moved;
He will be remembered forever.
He is not afraid of bad news;
his heart is firm, trusting in the Lord.
His heart is steady; he will not be afraid,
until he looks in triumph on his adversaries. (Psalm 112:6-8)
This was of great comfort to me, because though I don’t know Matt personally, I know him to be this kind of man.
I want to thank you, Matt, for being an example of how a righteous man responds to bad news. My prayer is that God is most glorified by bringing you back to miraculous health. Grace and peace to you and your family through our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ.
October 21st, 2009 § 1
So, I hate my bike helmet. I really do. Every time I put it on, I feel like a complete goober and imagine that every cool, hipster ASU student in Tempe is secretly mocking me as I pass them on their ridiculously large cruiser bikes. I just feel so uncool.
Why do I wear this stupid thing?
My first thought is that I’m a dad. I make my three-year old, Liam, wear a helmet. It would be hypocritical for me to not do the same. And that’s true. But I’ve often teetered on the edge of not wearing a helmet on my ride, knowing that Liam would be none-the-wiser…which makes me realize how much I suck when I’m contemplating ways to pull a fast one on my own son!
One of my favorite movies is Garden State. It’s the story of Andrew Largeman, played by Zach Braff, who goes to New Jersey for his mother’s funeral after years of separation in L.A. The movie is a study in change: how people change and yet stay the same.
One particular scene is quite poignant. Out for a late night ride on his old motorcycle, Andrew is pulled over by a cop who approaches Andrew with a hostile attitude, yelling profanities at him.
And then, all of sudden, Andrew realizes this cop is his old friend, Kenny. After talking for a bit, Andrew says, “But Kenny, the last time I saw you, you were doing coke lines off a urinal.”
Kenny responds, “I know, I know, man…but it was time for me to grow up, you know?”
Later, at a drunken, drug-filled party, we learn that Kenny has changed but not really. He became a cop for all the wrong reasons. His exterior persona has changed, but on the inside he’s still that kid who loves to party. He hasn’t grown up, really. He’s just taken on the appearance of responsibility.
I Need to be Transformed
As Christians, we are not called to just grow up. We are called to be transformed. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2).
Many of us are like, Kenny. We take on the appearance of responsibility and maturity, but secretly we are still the little boy or girl that struggles with the same sins and insecurities from our past.
For me, I struggle with the opinions of man. I hate my bike helmet because I feel uncool. But I wear it because I care more about my safety and making smart decisions so that I can be there for my family.
Everything is Spiritual
This may sound silly, but I think my bike helmet is spiritual. In fact, everything is spiritual. “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (I Cor. 10:31). Everyday, I have to die to myself and live in Christ. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17).
My decision to wear my bike helmet so that I can have a better chance to live for my family is a decision to die to myself and live in Christ – to put my pride aside so that I can live for others, my family, whom I’m called to lead and serve.
Only by daily dying to our self and living in Christ can we be truly fulfilled, truly transformed, and truly grow up.
What are the areas where you’ve taken on the appearance of maturity but not actually been transformed?
I encourage you to daily examine your heart and ask God to lead you by His Holy Spirit to daily keep you in Christ.
[Photo from Jeremysabol]
October 14th, 2009 § 0
I’m excited to see Michael Goheen tonight as he speaks to our Surge students (myself included). Surge is our leadership development program that is in conjunction with a number of other Valley churches, spearheaded by my pastor, Justin Anderson of Praxis Church, and Tyler Johnson of East Valley Bible Church.
If you aren’t familiar with Goheen, he is a preeminent missiologist and associate professor of religion and theology at Redeemer University College. His book, The Drama of Scripture, is a perquisite for anyone wishing to enter Surge. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. Here is a quote that sums up the book nicely:
“Many of us have read the Bible as if it were merely a mosaic of little bits–theological bits, moral bits, historical-critical bits, sermon bits, devotional bits. But when we read the Bible in such a fragmented way, we ignore its divine author’s intention to shape our lives through its story. All human communities live out of some story that provides a context for understanding the meaning of history and gives shape and direction to their lives. If we allow the Bible to become fragmented, it is in danger of being absorbed into whatever other story is shaping our culture, and it will thus cease to shape our lives as it should. Idolatry has twisted the dominant cultural story of the secular Western world. If as believers we allow this story (rather than the Bible) to become the foundation of our thought and action, then our lives will manifest not the truths of Scripture, but the lies of an idolatrous culture. Hence, the unity of Scripture is no minor matter: a fragmented Bible may actually produce theologically orthodox, morally upright, warmly pious idol worshippers!”
Acts29 has some talks by Goheen that you might like to check out as well.
September 14th, 2009 § 4
This morning I read Part 1 of Pastor Mark Driscoll’s blog post entitled, Leadership is Lonely. Mark is one of my favorite Christians, and a great leader and pastor. But I was troubled by his words, not because he is wrong in claiming that leadership is lonely (we all know it can be), but because I think loneliness in ministry is very destructive. I believe that Mark would agree, but in at least the first part of his series on leadership being lonely, he addressed the sins that the loneliness give birth to rather than exploring the question, Should leadership be lonely in the first place? In fact Mark goes so far as to start out his blog with the statement that “Leadership is lonely. Anyone who disagrees is likely not a leader.” And I think it is this definitive statement that got me thinking the most.
First or Last?
In saying that “leadership is lonely”, Mark indicates that it is the natural state of a leader to be lonely. Something he expounds on in his first paragraph:
“By definition, a leader is out ahead of his or her team, seeing, experiencing, and learning things before everyone else. One on hand, this causes great excitement and enthusiasm because the opportunity to learn and pioneer is incredibly invigorating. On the other hand, however, the distance between a leader and his or her team is incredibly lonely, even to the point of becoming debilitating.”
According to this definition of leadership, Mark is right that leadership is lonely – and always will be. But to me that definition of leadership is more akin with our western capitalistic conceptions of leadership than with a Biblical understanding of leadership. I agree that leaders (even Christian ones) are often ahead of their team, but I’m not convinced that is where they should be at all times. I’m of course thinking of Christ’s conceptions of leadership in the gospels, which so often align with His Sermon on the Mount refrain: “You’ve heard it said, but I say unto you…” Teachings such as: “So the last shall be first, and the first last” (Matthew 20:16), “It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to serve but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:26-28), and “An argument arouse among them as to which of them was the greatest. But Jesus, knowing the reasoning of their hearts, took a child and put him by his side and said to them, ‘Whoever receives this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me. For he who is least among you is the one who is great.’” (Luke 9:48)
According to Christ a true leader is a servant. Mark knows this. We all know this. But let’s reflect on what that means. A servant is not generally out ahead, but more likely behind, making those he serves look good. A servant doesn’t get credit for success – though often times he is the reason for it. As leaders it is our job to cast vision, and in that sense we are ahead. But that gift is meant to be used in coming behind and pushing and empowering those whom God has entrusted to our care to be successful in carrying out that vision.
We of course see this most truly embodied in Jesus, who condescended (in the best sense of the word) to be human and die a bloody death on the cross for us. And while Christ clearly walked in authority, I find it hard pressed to say he was lonely, with the exception of his passion when even the Father forsook him. Was he exasperated at times? Most definitely. Was there times he just wanted to get away from it all? Of course. But generally, we see Jesus in continual fellowship with both his disciples and with others, specifically tax collectors, prostitutes, and other social outcasts – and there is no indication that he didn’t enjoy himself, at least most of the time. And in the end, Christ cast vision (a big one at that), and empowered his people to live it out. That to me is servant leadership. And it is far from lonely.
Everyone is Lonely
Something to consider is that we as leaders don’t have the market cornered on loneliness. Everyone is lonely. That is why they seek out the Church. We are a community that follows Jesus and strikes hard against the prevailing cultures of the world that seek to ostracize and isolate. Our job as leaders is to create a culture whereby people feel the all encompassing love and joyful community that being a follower of Jesus affords – and we as leaders are a part of that community. We too should feel the joy and peace that our community brings to our lives.
We Serve a Triune God
As a community we can be assured that the ultimate reality of the Kingdom of God is one of peace, unity, and community. After all, our God is a God that lives and has lived throughout all eternity in perfect and holy community with Himself. A triune God. And as Lesslie Newbigin writes in his book Foolishness to the Greeks:
“From its first page to its last, the Bible is informed by a vision of human nature for which neither freedom nor equality is fundamental; what is fundamental is relatedness. Man – male and female – is made for God in such a way that being in the image of God involves being bound together in this most profound of all mutual relations. God binds himself in a covenant relationship with men and women to which he remains faithful at whatever cost and however unfaithful his covenant partner is. And people and nations are called to live in binding covenant relationships of brotherhood. Human beings reach their true end in such relatedness, in bonds of mutual love and obedience that the mutual relatedness in love that is the being of the Triune God himself.”
When we examine the Triune God, we do see a clear hierarchy in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, yet we also see perfect harmony and community – there is no room for loneliness. In fact, I would be so bold to say that in such a communion, loneliness would be sin.
And that’s really the heart of what I’m exploring here. It may be technically right to say that “leadership is lonely,” but I wonder, is it morally right that it is so?
Loneliness Leads to Isolationism
As a parting thought, I want to share a story. The pastor of the church I grew up in began to experience what Mark is writing about. Our church was growing fast, and he was a dynamic and charismatic individual that was definitely a type-A personality. He had grand dreams and big plans. Slowly and imperceivably, my pastor began to distance himself from those whom he had trusted so deeply just years earlier as they worked hand-in-hand in ministry. Soon, he was consolidating power and pushing his life-long friends away. He too claimed that everyone wanted a piece of him, and went so far as to hire a body guard to escort him from pulpit to his office after each service. Eventually, he ran many of the pastors that had served with him for years out of the church and replaced them with his family members.
At its peak, my church was a thriving body of over 2,500 people who were seeking Jesus and living out the gospel. Today, that church no longer exists. The list of lives that were shipwrecked by the seeds one pastor’s loneliness stretches far and wide.
As leaders we should be asking ourselves how and why we perpetuate this pervasive condition of loneliness in ministry leadership. There must be a better way.
I pray that there is. It breaks my heart to hear that Mark and many other pastors feel this way, and to hear the questions that arise out of such feelings. I know all too well where those feelings lead, and the destruction they can bring on a community. I thank God that Mark is sharing his thoughts for all pastors to see (and feel comfortable acknowledging in themselves), but I also hope he goes straight for the jugular of loneliness itself, and shows just how destructive a force it can be.
September 9th, 2009 § 6
When I was a kid, I loved this song. At the age of ten, I thought it was a great song. I sang it in the shower. I sang it in the woods. I sang it at the dinner table – where I was informed that singing at the dinner table was rude and unacceptable. Believe it or not, I thought Carmen was a great singer.
The Foolishness of Children
Now at the age of thirty-one, listing to Blind Pilot, drinking an IPA, and missing my days of smoking Nat Sherman cigarettes, I realize what a fool I was to enjoy such pedestrian music, and what a douchebag Carmen really is. I should know. I’m co-founder of the #db4jc hash tag on twitter (if you can’t figure out that 1+1=2, then you’re a #db4jc too).
You see, as a young child I was too innocent. I can’t believe I enjoyed such culturally irrelevant music that condemned the prevailing culture in no uncertain terms – all in a stout Jersey accent to boot. There are two things clearly wrong with Carmen’s music:
Clearly, Carmen isn’t, and never was, used by God. In fact, he’s doing Christianity a disservice – and he should be mocked for doing so.
Who’s Carmen?
Most likely you’re asking, “Who’s the Carmen fellow?” And if so, I’ll admit you’re lucky. My point is that as emerging, emergents, neo-calivinists, young reformers, or whatever buzzword you can find, we’re quickly becoming the young and the mocking. From where I sit, convicted too often of my own participation, our greatest weakness (and the possible cause of our future fall from grace) is our arrogance. And it’s not even an arrogance that’s rooted in solid theology – I’m well-aware of the oxymoronic subtleties of that statement – but instead on our cultural relevance. And you know what? That’s just silly.
Admit it. You’re Angry.
I think it’s time to come to terms with the fact that we’re pissed about having to watch TBN and giving up our He-Man toys (by the power of Greyskull? I think not! We live by the power of Jesus!) when our mom came home from the pentecostal church “saved” and ready to live her life for Jesus! Oh, wait…was I projecting?
Let’s face it, you probably have some sort of similar horror story about “uncool” evangelical Christianity crimping your style. And that’s cool. The Bible is full of Lamentations. There’s even a book by that name. But they were complaining about losing their homeland and watching their loved ones run through by a sword. But I’m sure your having to give the Chronicles of Narnia (evil Christian apologists!) back to your aunt on Christmas because it had witches is a modern equivalent. Wait…was I projecting again?!
Yeah. I’m a hypocrite.
By now you’re probably forming your argument that goes something like this, “If you’re so against mockery, why is this whole damn blog post full of it?” Good question. I guess the only answer is that it’s mostly self-mockery, and I’m a hypocrite. But does that make it untrue?
And I guess that’s the rub. I probably could have skipped this whole diatribe and simply quoted our good friend, St. Paul:
“Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil. Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Ephesians 4:25-32
I’m Not a Hippie
So, where do we go from here? What exactly am I advocating? I’ll admit, this post was inspired by @_stew_’s (whom I actually think is a great man of God and a very interesting follow on twitter) series of salty tweets earlier this week (see examples here, here, and here), but mostly it was inspired by my own spirit of mocking at the Christian sub-culture. I’m truly convicted by my mocking spirit towards my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, people whom I’m called to love and serve with every fiber of my being. People who, if I’m honest with myself (as in the case of Carmen) actually were used by God in my own life and many others – even to this day.
So here’s what I’m saying, and what someone astutely said in response to @_stew_, let’s focus on tearing down the strongholds of sin in our culture, not the “irrelevance” of Christian sub-culture, and we will do just fine. Because at the end of the day, is it our delivery or the power of the Gospel as illuminated by the Holy Spirit that is the power to save?
Let’s move beyond the young and the mocking.
Grace and peace.
August 13th, 2009 § 0
And he gave them the lands of the nations, and they took possession of the fruit of the people’s toil, that they might keep his statutes and observe his laws. Praise the Lord! – Psalm 105:44-45
Being an Episcopalian in exile, I generally use The Book of Common Prayer (BCP) for my morning devotions. The daily devotions laid out in the BCP include a good portion of the Psalms, which I find myself rushing through quite often. The problem isn’t that I don’t like the Psalms – I do. Rather, I find them too demanding for my scattered brain in the morning. I’m constantly thinking about what I have to do, mentally building my checklist for the day. I rarely enjoy the now, relish in the moment, marinate in the Word.
Lately, I’ve been trying to deliberately slow down and really read these Psalms. To dwell on the significance of what they are saying. To mediate on how men thousands of years ago amazingly shared the same emotional up and down wrestling with what it means to live life and follow God.
This morning I pretty much sucked at that. Psalm 105 is:
1. Long
2. A relatively boring (by that I mean, something I’ve heard over and over again) litany of Jewish exodus.
By the time I was about halfway through the Psalm, I realized that my mind had completely drifted off to the day’s cares. So, redoubling, I went back to the beginning and started to read again. And I’m glad I did.
Because the story in Psalm 105 is not just a Jewish story. It is our story. A story of a God who seeks to rescue and redeem his people. A story of a God who is actively involved in better the lives of the people whom he loves. A story of a God who gives his grace and redeeming love unconditionally.
This is no better summed up than in the last verses of the Psalm when the Psalmist, who having just run through the cherished Exodus event, writes: “And he [God] gave… that they might keep his statutes and observe his laws. Praise the Lord!”
God didn’t give because the Jews had followed God’s statutes and laws. He gave so that they would do so out of loving response to God’s immeasurable goodness.
So today, as you go about doing the good works God has prepared in advance for you to do, do so as a response to God’s favor – not as a means to attain that favor. It goes better for us that way.
July 24th, 2009 § 0
Mark 5:35-43
35 While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” 36 But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37 And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. 38 They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. 41 Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. 43 And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.
Sad news came my way this week. An acquaintance of mine was traveling with one of my clients to Argentina. When he got off the plane, he did what all of us do and checked his cell phone messages. What he heard will change his life forever: His thirteen year old son had died while staying at his aunts. The boy was highly allergic to peanuts, and had ate a granola bar that contained them as a snack in the middle of the night. Whether he was too groggy to think clearly or he was disoriented from being in a new house, we don’t know. But what we do know is that one small decision has in the blink of an eye led to the tragic loss of my friend’s beloved son. He’s gone, and his father was not even there to hold is still body and weep.
It’s hard to find solace in the gospel’s for moments such as this, since there are no stories where the healing power of Jesus is not effective. But when I read the text quoted from Mark above, I do think we can find solace of a sort. The story has similarities. A man who is away. A child that has died. News comes to the father, and despair sets in. This father too was unable to hold his daughter and weep. To which, Jesus says, “Do not fear, only believe.” And the journey home begins.
As we know from the story, Jesus does raise this man’s daughter from the dead. Sadly, this is not the end of my friend’s story. Some might think that Jesus’ power to raise people from the dead is the point. And it is a point, but to me it’s not the point. The true power of this story is found in the words, “Talitha cumi,” which Jesus speaks over the child. As the text indicates, this phrase is literally translated, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” What is lost in translation, is the compassion behind these words.
The phrase talitha cumi was a common one that would have been used to awake a sleeping child. It evokes images of a parent quietly going into their child’s room and gently touching them to awaken them, filled with tenderness, love, and compassion. “Wake up, little one.” Or in my home, “Bubba, it’s time to get up.” Imagine the horror, as many parent’s over time have experienced, of the gentle call to awaken to not be headed by the child. To find the child is not sleeping, but is dead.
In this way, Christ approaches the lifeless body of this little girl. His father-like compassion is aroused, and quietly and with gentleness (I imagine) he says, “Talitha cumi.”
I cannot explain why my friend’s child did not wake up. But I do hope that he was awakened by our Lord unto eternal life with a gentle holding of the hand, and the words, “Wake up, little one.”
May 22nd, 2009 § 0
I was listening to a great sermon by Tim Keller on the parable of the Good Samaritan the other day, and he had a keen insight into Jesus and how he taught. As Keller points out, the Pharisees and experts of the Law often strove to entrap Jesus with tricky questions. It’s not that these questions were bad within themselves, but rather the motives of the one asking the question were wrong. In this passage, the motive of the lawyer when he asks, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”, is not to fulfill the law in order to glorify God, but to instead find the bare-minimum requirement to attain eternal life. In this sense it was not a genuinely earnest question about how to attain eternal life and live in perfect communion with God forever, but a conniving question designed to squeeze a concession out of Jesus as to how the lawyer could attain something he wanted with as little cost to himself.
Now, Jesus could have simply exposed the motives of the man’s heart, accusing him directly of his hypocrisy. Instead, Jesus asks a question, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” He answers a question with another question – a question that entraps the lawyer in the very web he was trying to weave for Jesus. The lawyer knows the right answer, gives the right answer, but shows he does not understand the Law’s intent:
And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he [Jesus] said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”
But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
At this point Jesus tells his famous parable about a Good Samaritan, ending again with a question instead of a direct answer:
“Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He [the lawyer] said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”
This is really genius. Christ, though he knows the lawyer is attempting to trap him, never feels the need to justify or one-up the man by directly accusing. Christ uses pointed questions to expose the motives that are in the man’s heart. Christ does not need to condemn the man for he is already condemned by the motives of his heart. This pattern is evident throughout much of Jesus’ ministry. In Luke 14:1-6 for instance, Jesus uses questions to turn the tables on his would be accusers:
One Sabbath, when he went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching him carefully. And behold, there was a man before him who had dropsy. And Jesus responded to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, “Is it lawful to heal on the the Sabbath, or not?” But they remained silent. Then he took him and healed him and sent him away. And he said to them, “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?” And they could not reply to these things.
This passage is part of a long-running exchange between the Pharisees and Jesus on the Sabbath, in which the Pharisees were continually trying to trap Jesus and make him out to be a Sabbath breaker in order to discredit him and his ministry. But again, Jesus exposes the true motives of their hearts through simple, but pointed, questions.
So here’s my takeaway: Ask more pointed questions. Accuse less. Often we are slow to listen, quick to speak, and ready to condemn with our own words when the motives of a person’s heart will be so much more effective when rightly exposed.
Ask the pointed question.
April 9th, 2009 § 9
This is the first in a series of blogs I’ll share on the process of starting a Theology Pub here in Tempe, AZ.
So, I’m starting a theology pub. What is that you might ask? Good question. I don’t really know. It’s a relatively new idea – at least for modern American evangelicals. For folks such as Luther, whose wife brewed beer, and who enjoyed throwing a few back while discussing justification by faith with the locals, it was a simple way of life that didn’t need a cool title:
“Whenever the devil pesters you, at once seek out the company of friends, drink more, joke and jest, or engage in some form of merriment.” Martin Luther
“Whenever the devil pesters you, at once seek out the company of friends, drink more, joke and jest, or engage in some form of merriment.” Martin Luther
For Luther, beer was a gift from God, not to be shunned, but rather to be enjoyed – and it was best enjoyed in the company of others. I’ll just get the caveat out of the way here, Luther was against drunkenness (as we all should be).
Sermon on Soberness and Moderation against Gluttony and Drunkenness, 1 Peter 4:7-11, May 18, 1539
“God does not forbid you to drink, as do the Turks; he permits you to drink wine and beer: he does not make a law of it. But do not make a pig of yourself; remain a human being. If you are a human being, then keep your human self-control. Even though we do not have a command of God, we should nevertheless be ashamed that we are thus spit upon by other peoples. If you want to be a Christian, do not argue in this way: Nobody reproaches me, therefore God does not reproach me. So it has been from the time of Noah. And so it was with the Sodomites, who wanted to rape the angels; they were all so drunk they could not find the door. Sodom and Gomorrah perished because of a flood of drunkenness; this vice was punished. God does not tolerate such confusion and inordinate use of his creatures [i.e., food and drink].” (As quoted on Ted Tschopp’s Blog)
So with all this in mind (and the fact that I love pubs and beer – as do most of my un-christian friends), I thought what better way to be missional than to bring the gospel into the context of a local pub. So that is what we are going to do.
I’m, of course, not nearly the first to do this. Earlier this week I had a great conversation with Joe Thorn, pastor of Redeemer Fellowship in the Chicago area. He just hosted his first Theology Pub in March. Around twenty or so people showed up to talk about God, society, and culture – around 40% were unchurched and unchristian. Everyone loved it. The buzz is already building and a number of people who might not otherwise step foot in a church are very excited about the prospect of discussing Theology at a local pub.The eventual goal for Joe is to have a 50-50 split of church members/christians and unchristian folk.
I’m encouraged to hear the groundswell that is building around Redeemer’s program. Our own Lord is of course a model for us in this sense because he was quite often mocked for hanging out with “sinners” by “holy” pharisees.
Matthew 11:19
“The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.”
Mark 2:15-17
“15And as he reclined at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. 16And the scribes of1 the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, ‘Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?’ 17And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.’”
In is in this spirit that I wish to start a Theology Pub – not as a cool anti-evangelical emergent thing, but rather as an intentional missional (by missional, I mean this) endeavor intent on spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ to “those that are sick.” One pint at a time.
Please keep me in your prayers as I work towards launching this exciting adventure. Grace and peace.