Bandits No More

How Many Allegiances?

Posted on March 3, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

Greg Boyd blogs about participating in a recent debate with Shane Claiborne and Chuck Colson on the issue of Christianity and Government. Since Greg doesn’t allow comments at his site, I’ll post some comments here. He reports:

Chuck believes Christians have a “dual allegiance” to God and country. I and Shane argued that the only allegiance followers of Jesus should have is to Jesus. We cannot “serve two masters.” (By the way, Shane is coming out with a book entitled Jesus for President. I think this is a brilliant title and said so in the debate. I pointed out that one of the reasons the confession “Jesus is Lord” is rather meaningless today is because we don’t refer to those over us as “lords” any more. So it doesn’t seem that the confession of Jesus as Lord rules out having other people or things rule us. But if we instead confessed “Jesus as President,” it would immediately become clear that this confession rules out pledging allegiance to any other president, nation, the military, etc….Way to go Shane!)

I’ve used “dual allegiance” language before, so I’m wondering if Chuck Colson and I really got it wrong. After all, if Jesus said we can have only one master, and identifying someone or something as being due allegiance is the same as ascribing “master status” to that person or institution, then any talk of dual – or even multiple allegiances – would clearly run afoul of Jesus. But do we have to say that all allegiance relationships reach “master status?”

I believe that it is appropriate, within the realm of Christian teaching, for me to give my wife exclusive allegiance when it comes to all the other women out there. There is no room in Christian ethics for me to go messing around with other women. I am committed to her in a way I am committed to no other woman. I want her to prosper, flourish, succeed, and have a happy and holy life. In taking this stance toward my wife, am I running afoul of Jesus? Have I set up my wife as my master? Some might read Luke 14:26 that way – “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple.” If the literal reading of that verse is the standard of giving Jesus true allegiance, then I have run aground and strayed from the true path.

But I have no evidence that the Christian tradition in its majority (or even a large minority) has read Jesus in that verse so literally. We continue to perform marriages as if it is ok for a man and a woman to pledge allegiance to each other. Sure, we don’t use the word “allegiance,” but neither does Jesus. It’s a word imported from our political discourse and modified to, in this case, Christian and familial contexts. I don’t know Greg Boyd, but I don’t think he would have a difficulty saying marriage and the commitments it entails is ok – or else I read his post on his wife wrongly. So maybe we can get by with having something called allegiance to Jesus and to my wife. Must I stop there?

Suppose I am a baseball player by profession. My job entails working hard and doing all within my powers and the rules of baseball to help my team win. I want my team to win. I want the teams we play to lose. I have an allegiance to my team that I don’t have to other teams. Have I now strayed from Jesus? While I don’t think baseball teams use “master” language – any more than the rest of us in modern America – they might talk about having a “boss.” Can a Christian have two bosses – Jesus and a manager? Or must the Christian reject the commands of all managers and coaches – any who might try to stand in a boss relation – in favor of Jesus? “Sorry coach. I can’t bunt now. Jesus wants me to swing for the bleachers.”

Allegiance to wives or baseball teams – that doesn’t seem like too much of a problem. Surely it doesn’t get to the level of allegiance to Jesus or one’s country. So let’s try another example.

Should we have an allegiance to our immediate community, whether conceived as a neighborhood, town or city? Such an allegiance, unlike an allegiance to one’s baseball team, wouldn’t require taking a stance against any other neighborhood, town or city. My locale could flourish quite well at the same time others near and far flourished. But could I wish my locale well, could I work toward the prospering of the people around me and offer allegiance to Jesus? Or would it be better to ignore the people who lived in my neighborhood, town or city and devote myself entirely to Jesus? Maybe the problem isn’t an allegiance, an attachment to the flourishing of my neighbors that’s the problem. After all, Jesus had some quite positive things to say about loving our neighbors. Maybe the problem lies in attachment to our neighbors as more than individuals, as some sort of collective. As a pastor in Pittsburg, I can have an allegiance to the people of Pittsburg, I can employ myself in various ways to seek the well-being and prosperity of the individuals who live here, but the collective entity we know as Pittsburg, maybe that’s another story. When it comes to the organization, structure and activities of the town and schools, I should do nothing.

Obviously here we are shading over into politics, having moved beyond the merely individual. As I read the New Testament, I see that giving attention to select individuals and ignoring the organization and activities of political entities, whether neighborhoods, towns, regions, kingdoms or empires would be following Jesus’ example. At no time do I see Jesus attempting to influence or control the rulers or ruling of any of these entities. While I see Jesus doing nothing directly against Caesar (to justify one of the charges against him), I can’t imagine Jesus at any time pledging allegiance to Caesar or his empire. He exhibited no allegiance to the political entities of Nazareth, Galilee, Judea, Jerusalem or Rome.

Is Paul any different? I see Paul using his Roman citizenship from time to time, but I don’t see him doing anything to enact the agenda of that empire. A typical sign of allegiance to the empire was a symbolic offering of incense. No big deal, the Romans said. You can still believe in and worship your own gods, even a god has apparently nutty as that Jesus fellow. Just offer a pinch of incense. For most Christians it was a big deal. So big they’d rather go to prison or be killed than offer it.

How do we explain the gap between Jesus’ neglect of political organizations, Paul’s strategic use of his Roman citizenship, early Christian refusal to “pledge allegiance to Caesar” and our mostly thoughtless involvement in politics today?

One possibility is that Caesar, whether local or national, is today a Christian, not a pagan. The reason Jesus, Paul and others didn’t pledge allegiance to the political entities of their day was that they weren’t Christian. After Constantine/the Protestant Reformation/The American Revolution – take your pick – it’s now ok to do so. I don’t see it.

Another possibility is that while current Caesars aren’t necessarily Christian, they are relatively benign. The original Caesars were happy to call non-allegiant Christians. Current Caesars are tolerant of us. We can have our churches (as long as Caesar doesn’t need the tax revenue he could get from giving our property to some other enterprise), we can worship as we please, just as long as it doesn’t have too much impact on public (i.e., from Caesar’s point of view, “real”) life. I think this view is popular, but amounts to wishful thinking.

Since I’m running out of time to write (have to go home and cook dinner before tonight’s meetings), let’s try a quick – though temporary – ending to this question. Let’s start with Jesus.

Though Jesus did not do what we would call “pledging allegiance” to a political entity, he was a participant in the story of God and Israel, the real life story of God’s action through his chosen people to bring salvation to the whole world. More than a participant, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection was the climax of that story. When I give my allegiance to Jesus, I am becoming a willing participant, under his direction, in that very story. I take up his agenda as my own.

What we think of Political entities, Rome, Jerusalem, Texas, the USA – each of these not only have their constitutions – implicit or explicit – but each also supposes and enacts a particular narrative or story line (with an agenda of its own). Some of these entities insist (the level of insistence various from occasion to occasion) that there is no division (other than logical) between their people, their constitution, and their story. Therefore, if one pledges allegiance to the entity, one is pledging allegiance to each of these. If one describes oneself as allegiant to the people but not the agenda, one is deemed confused or not “really” allegiant at all.

I’ve read a fair amount of history. I have not yet discovered any incarnations of Caesar whose agenda, whose implicit story line – has no conflict with the story of Jesus. While I’m an American, would rather live in America than anywhere else, think our political system is better than most, and would like to see my fellow Americans prosper, I see that the story of America is not only not the story of Jesus, but there are also conflicts between the two stories. If my being allegiant to the story (agenda) of Jesus is primary – and I think it must be for a Christian – then I cannot be fully allegiant to the story (agenda) of America. When there are conflicts, I will have to submit my participation in the life of America to the agenda of Jesus.

Posted in Chuck Colson, Culture, Greg Boyd, Politics, Uncategorized, War | 2 Comments

Healthy Theology

Posted on February 28, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

I ran across this excerpt from an interview with Richard Rorty at Faith and Theology:

“I’m delighted that liberal theologians do their best to do what Pio Nono said shouldn’t be done – try to accommodate Christianity to modern science, modern culture, and democratic society. If I were a fundamentalist Christian, I’d be appalled by the wishy-washiness of [the liberal] version of the Christian faith. But since I am a non-believer who is frightened of the barbarity of many fundamentalist Christians (e.g. their homophobia), I welcome theological liberalism. Maybe liberal theologians will eventually produce a version of Christianity so wishy-washy that nobody will be interested in being a Christian anymore. If so, something will have been lost, but probably more will have been gained.”

The advantage that the liberals Rorty has in view have over many theologians of other stripes is that they are consciously engaged in a gospel-translation program. God thought translation – coming on the human level – was important enough that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Paul thought it important enough that he became all things to all people so that he might win some. But the problem with translation is that one can be left with nothing to say.

We who are not liberals have often taken liberals to task for this, mocking them – or inasmuch as they teach in our seminaries and lead our churches, bemoaning them – for progressively giving us less and less to disbelieve.

Unfortunately, liberals aren’t alone in the act. So-called conservatives happily engage in translation also, though they usually choose a different audience. Some go so far in obeisance to their host culture that they have forgotten they’re involved in translation and, like some liberals, mistake the values and desires of that host culture for the gospel itself.

How do we avoid going the wrong way in translation? Some suggest we avoid it altogether. I don’t see that as an option. First, Jesus commands us to go make disciples of all nations. as we obey we will inevitably encounter people from different cultures who will not understand us enough even to reject our message. Second, we ourselves are always already immersed in some culture. Though we may imagine ourselves to be a in a pure gospel setting, we are never free from culture with its links beyond the gospel.

Very briefly, here are a couple of thoughts that come to mind.

Be willing to be misunderstood. If, in our obedience to God, our following of Jesus, our actions always make good sense to us, we’re probably going the wrong way. As God leads us, chances are – if the scriptural stories of previous followers are any indication – that we will be led in ways contrary to what even we, godly as we are, consider counter-intuitive at the least. Surely then, if some of our actions don’t make sense to us, they won’t make sense to the world. When what we do doesn’t make sense, we give the Holy Spirit space to step in and do divine translation work.
Never skimp on the work of “faith seeking understanding.” So many of us tend to major on one or the other. We need both. We don’t go out as experts, either in the gospel or the culture we’re called to reach. We go out as ambassadors. As we continually check in with the King and diligently pursue the King’s agenda, translation – and our other duties – are more likely to go right.

Posted in Evangelism, Theology | Leave a comment

Rowan Williams and Sharia?

Posted on February 14, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

The blogosphere has exploded with vituperation over a recent lecture by the Archbishop of Canterbury on legal theory. You’d think the same kind of crowd was responding to him as responded to Pope Benedict in Regensburg. You know, “Let’s read our ideas into his topic and take what he says out of context!”

Tom Wright has written a general defense of Williams, setting the wider context. From the angry complaints of Williams that I’d read, I get the distinct idea that either they’re reading a different piece than I read, don’t understand it, or simply didn’t read it, settling instead for hearsay an innuendo.

The Archbishop is not saying anything along the lines of, “Come on, Christendom, let’s just surrender to Islam and let them have their way.” I’ve read folks that seem to be saying that, but Williams isn’t one of them.

As a Christian, my first allegiance is to Jesus and his kingdom. It’s not to the USA, Western culture, or anti-Islamism. As an American citizen I have a secondary allegiance to the USA, an allegiance always tempered by my primary allegiance. As a Westerner, I see great value in our Western heritage. If I had to choose between living in a culture with a primary debt to Western culture and one primarily founded in another cultural setting, I’d opt for the West. But again, my positive evaluation of the West is conditioned by my primary allegiance to Jesus. If there’s a conflict, I go with Jesus.

While the US government is one of the more tolerant in history, it is still easily conceivable that conflicts will arise between my being an American and my living for Jesus. Sometimes Caesar will be unhappy that I choose the way of Jesus. Sometimes I’ll have to pay the consequences. One of the pleasant consequences of Western modernity (and though I’m plenty critical of Western modernity, I do see its benefits) is that there is much social and legal room for me to live as a faithful Christian and be an American.

This is the track that Williams is taking in relation to English law. Though his illustration is drawn from Islam rather than Christianity, he simply saying that there ought to be a way – from the perspective of Western modernity and the law it has inspired – for Muslims to see themselves as faithful Muslims and faithful Englishmen/women. Just as their will likely be conflicts between my desire to live as a Jesus-follower and as an American, there will also likely be conflicts between a Muslim’s desire to live as a Muslim and as an citizen of England. Is that really so controversial?

Well, I think it is. That’s why Williams wrote about Islam and Sharia instead of Christianity. We in the West have domesticated Christianity to such a degree that we usually fail to see the difference, the potential for conflict between living as Jesus-followers and as citizens of our modern Western democracies. Though Christendom is no more, we live as if there is no real gap between the American way and the Christian way (or the English way and the Christian way). I think Williams would say there is. Surely his critics unknowingly have demonstrated as much.

Posted in Clash of Civilizations, Current events, Islam, Rowan Williams, Sharia | 1 Comment

Making Disciples

Posted on February 14, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

Our purpose as a church is to make disciples. My personal take on that (for my own life) is that I’m here (wherever God has me at any given moment) to make disciples who become disciple makers. I realize that takes the language from our Book of Discipline a little farther – all it says is “make disciples of Jesus Christ” – but I think my sense is plainly included in scripture.

Do you remember what Jesus said? “All authority on heaven and earth has been given to me.” If you’re into grammar think of the importance of that perfect tense verb. But let’s continue. “Therefore,” in light of the fact I [Jesus] have been given this authority, “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”

The main verb – the main action Jesus is commanding – is “make disciples.” We “make disciples” by doing three things. We go. Jesus didn’t envision the disciples just sitting were they were (or in a church building, however beautiful). That’s just not the place you went to find pre-disciples. They were supposed to do what Jesus did – go hang out with sinners. If we’re going to make disciples, we have to go to people. Sure, a few people might show up on their own. Jesus never relied on that model, however.

The second thing we do is baptize them. If all that meant was to get people wet, it’d be fairly simple: just pull out our Super Soaker and hose them down. But I think we’d miss what Jesus is talking about. While he had the literal act of baptism in view, I think he also had in mind the larger act of helping people come to faith. The idea is that we go to people and bring them to Jesus.

So we’ve gone, we’ve baptized. The new disciples have crossed the line of faith. They’ve given their lives to Jesus. Is that all? Not quite – not any more than entering a house is the same as living in a house. Jesus commands us to “teach them to obey everything I have commanded you.” If it were only, “Teach them everything I commanded you,” it’d be fairly simple. We could to that in a short class, or hand them a book, tape or CD. But we’re teaching obedience. Teaching obedience takes time. It takes personal involvement in people’s lives.

How much of what Jesus commanded are we to teach? Everything. Even this final command – the command to “make disciples.” That’s why I say that if we’re truly making disciples, we’re making disciples who themselves become part of the disciple making team.

Posted in Evangelism, Leadership, Ministry | 1 Comment

Handling our Wealth

Posted on February 5, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

Here are some comments inspired by John the Methodist and commentators at his site:

It’s been said, “Give a man a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime.”

This helps illustrate problem of timing when it comes to measurement. When you invest yourself in teaching a person to fish you will – at one point in the process, appear to be cruel and heartless. “Here is this poor man, needy and starving, and instead of giving him a fish, you make him wait until he can learn to catch one himself.”

Or we could change the image a little. “Here is this poor person without a job, and instead of giving her a job right now you make her go to school first. How can you be so heartless?”

With current techniques of communication and travel, we can know more than ever about the tremendous needs of people around the world – and we have the means to send them resources. We know how to sell all we have and give all to the poor. But is that a “give a man a fish” or a “teach a man to fish” solution? Something that will help in the short term but be disastrous in the long term (unless having large numbers of people who have given away everything and now need other people to care for them is not seen as a negative).

Admittedly, the this whole idea of fishing is unbiblical (though other ideas of fishing are present in scripture, this quote comes from elsewhere).

So what can we do given the problem of time? Here are a few ideas:
1. Live as grateful recipients of God’s grace. Nothing we have is ours merely because we deserve it.
2. Live as stewards. God has put resources under our control to use for his agenda. In the parable of the talents praise came not for immediately giving the talents away, but for multiplying them until the master called for them.
3. At any given time be living in such a way that a picture of your life up to that point would show you to be generous with the people around you.
4. Redefine your sense of personal gain and prosperity to include the actual well-being of the people around you.
5. Give more than you loan. If someone pays you back, that’s ok.
6. Trust God to take care of your finances and possessions more than you trust yourself (or the government) to do so.

Posted in Consumerism, Culture, Economics | 3 Comments

Thinking About Lent

Posted on February 1, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

The forty days of Lent are based on the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness. Often when we think of those forty days (described, for example, in Matthew 4), we think of the fasting and the temptations. Christians have emphasized fasting during Lent as long as they have been celebrating (if you can call a season characterized as fasting as a celebration) Lent. You’ve probably heard about people giving things up for Lent: sweets, soda, fried foods, television, etc. Practicing self-denial can help us focus on God (and help us become less dependent on things that aren’t always good for us), and so is a helpful part of the Christian life.

The forty days were also a time of temptation for Jesus. While we might think forty days and nights of not eating would make a person weak, it helped Jesus be strong enough to overcome the temptations. While some will say that he was able to overcome the temptations simply because he was the Son of God, I think the stories we see in Matthew, Mark and Luke (John doesn’t tell the temptation story) shows Jesus using resources that are available to us ordinary folks. Fasting brought him clarity That was the first major resource. The second major resource was his knowledge of the Word. Gained by a lifetime of study – not, I think, from having it encoded at birth – Jesus is a model for us. Memorizing scripture, making it a part of our thoughts, desires and attitudes – part of our very being – is possible for all of us. We can’t do it overnight – or in forty days – however. It takes time. Jesus had prepared for the temptation. Are we similarly prepared?

Jesus had a third resource – again one available to all who follow him: the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit was not only with him through his forty days of fasting and temptation, but was the very one who had led him into the wilderness. It’d be nice if we never had to face temptation, if all our inclinations from within and all our suggestions from without were only to the good. But they’re not. And God, in the person of the Holy Spirit, is with us to encourage us and strengthen us throughout.

Do you notice when Jesus’ time of testing came? It was immediately (a good Marcan word) after his baptism, the time when he formally and publicly took up his mission. Some of you have heard God calling you. Perhaps you’re near the point of giving in, thinking something like, “After I give in things will surely go smoothly.” That’s not how it went with Jesus. I doubt that’s how it goes with us (considering my own experience). First, when we take up the mission (whether large or small) to which God has called us, we will encounter opposition. Someone won’t approve. Second, we will find that living the call requires faith – active ongoing trust in God. We won’t have sufficient resources on our own. We’ll need God.

Posted in Spirituality | 2 Comments

Looking for a President (or a Messiah?)

Posted on January 23, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

Although the presidential campaign has been in full swing at least a year now, people only started voting this month (unless you count the endless polls). I haven’t seen anyone campaigning in my area. I think I may have seen one ad on TV, but that’s about it. Since my vote doesn’t count for a while yet, I haven’t done much investigating.

I’m a pastor, so I work pretty hard against making anything that could be perceived as a partisan political statement. I have partisan leanings, but the people I work with come from many different places on the political spectrum and I don’t want to alienate any of them. I’d rather they hear about Jesus and decide to follow him any day than have them take up my partisan political opinions.

I have developed some opinions with regard to style, however. I’ve noticed a style in contemporary electioneering:

The Sky Is Falling!

I alone can Save the World!

Vote for Me!

Have you heard that? Sure each candidate points to a different part of the sky: Global Warming, National Security, Immigration, the stupid economy (oops, maybe I didn’t get that one right), the War in Iraq, Health Care. While the issues differ, the style is the same.”The other candidates just don’t get it like I do. I know what to do. I will bring you salvation!”

I’ve come to see that I hate the messianic style of politician. Jesus is all the messiah I’ll ever need.

The style is not peculiar to one side of the line, however we draw it: Republicans vs. Democrats, Liberals vs. Conservatives. They all seem to think that government – whether less or more – with them at the head – will be our salvation.

Fred Thompson was criticized for lacking “fire in the belly,” and intense public desire to be president. It looks to me – as one peering from the distance – that he was simply not the messianic type. I’ve already confessed that I’d make a horrible president, and that you ever see my name on the ballot, don’t vote for me. I’ll take it a step further. From what I’ve seen, I question the sanity of anyone who desperately wants the job.

I guess I’d better start looking for a President soon, since our primaries are coming up in a month or so. I’m not real optimistic. But because I already have a messiah, it’s just not that big a deal.

Posted in Elections, Politics | 1 Comment

Christian Commitment

Posted on January 11, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

I was asked to write a piece about my Christian commitment. If any of you have any opinions on content, tone, style, etc., I’d love to hear it. Thanks!

**************************

Statement of Christian Commitment

My commitment to Christ would be irrelevant were it not for Christ’s commitment to me. Jesus’ commitment is more than vague feelings of regard for me and my fellow creatures. His commitment of love – to the Father and to us – cost him his life. From before his birth in Bethlehem, from the moment (whether “moment” from the divine perspective represents temporal or merely a logical point) that the Son did not “count equality with God something to be grasped,” he constantly gave himself for us through his years of human growth and maturation.

Jesus was not motivated by our inherent qualities and goodness. He was not attracted by my attempts at commitment. His motivation was love. His love was strong enough to take him through the normal trials of humanity. If I were “in very nature God,” I don’t think I would have done that. Surely there would have been an easier way. But that wasn’t all. His love also took him through rejection by his closest friends at his darkest moment. Because of love he humbled himself to the point of death, even death on a cross. Fortunately for us, what the world and the powers of darkness intended for evil, he overcame in his resurrection. It is in the commitment of his very life to me, that my commitment to Jesus finds its substance and meaning.

The odd thing is that when he came into the world as a human, Jesus was not invading foreign territory. He entered the very world that had been made through him. He came to the very people that that been chosen as God’s instrument of salvation for all peoples. But just as sin and brokenness had come into the world and infiltrated all its dimensions, sin and brokenness also infected his people Israel. Israel was doubly chosen, as it were, to take upon itself as a people the sin of the world, while simultaneously serving as God’s instrument of blessing to the world. Israel broke under the load. Without shock or surprise, Jesus came not merely to Israel but from Israel and, from the larger point of view, as Israel, bearing the sin of the world in a way Israel could not, and fulfilling in his life, death and resurrection, God’s intention to bless all of creation.

While we often consider the salvation Jesus brings merely in terms of its benefit for humans, his intent was to restore all of creation. The brokenness caused by sin consisted not only in my broken relationship with God, but also my broken relationships with others, creation itself – even my relationship with myself. We sinners feel the degrading effects of sin in our own minds and bodies. As God’s appointed stewards over creation, we’ve infected the natural world. Paul describes the world as inarticulately groaning for Jesus to complete his work of salvation.

So let’s see. We’ve messed up ourselves and God’s world. God had to come and fix things himself. Of course that makes a long story short. The bible tells us of God coming to people time and again, and those people, pretty much without exception, going the wrong way. Yet God hasn’t given up on us. Beyond bringing us salvation – a restored relationship with himself, and a restored relationship with people (in the context of the Body of Christ, the church) – God invited us – me! – to be involved in his work of salvation. In fact, it looks like that work can even be seen as part of salvation.

We humans have a saying, “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” The bible is clear that God doesn’t think that way. Paul, who described himself as “chief of sinners,” one saved by grace through faith, spoke of that very grace being what made him the apostle to the Gentiles. Whether this conviction derived from personal revelation, his experience of grace, or his recollection of the word of God through Ananias at his conversion, we know not. But we do know that his apostleship, his “sent-ness,” echoed that of Jesus. Though not present when Jesus said, “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you,” he seems to have heard those words and taken them to heart.

I can imagine the joy Paul felt as he responded to the call of God. Proclaiming the word of God is an essential part of my calling, my commitment to Christ. Like Paul, preaching Jesus is not something I chose for myself. Jesus chose me, no, I have to use a stronger word (like Paul in I Corinthians 9:16), he compelled me to preach.

Paul’s call, however, went beyond preaching, beyond even what we would call evangelization. When Ananias took the message of God’s call to Paul, the commission included, “I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” That’s not what we tell our new converts and church members, is it? “Give your life to Christ and go to heaven when you die! Have inner peace and tranquility! Experience love beyond your highest imagination! Receive the right to serve on church committees!” Do we add, “By the way, the Christian life includes suffering?” Not a good sales pitch is it? Hard to believe it’s in God’s very first message to Paul. Instead of driving him away, I think even at this point in his young life in Christ he’d unwittingly echo Peter, “Lord, where else would I go? You alone have the words of life.”) Paul took the words to heart.

Strangely enough, Paul didn’t think the words were peculiar to him. He told the Philippians later, “It has been granted unto us not only to believe in him but to suffer for him.” “Believe in him,” we’ll take any day. But suffer for him? Why on earth would I want to do that? By Paul’s account, it seems that this isn’t something new, something God has come up with to put us through our motions. Jesus went first. So when we embrace suffering, when we embrace the brokenness and pain of the world, we’re following Jesus (Phil. 2:5-9). Paul certainly sees himself following the pattern of Jesus (Phil. 3).

I’d like to be able to dismiss this as lunatic ravings, saying with Festus, “You are out of your mind, Paul. Too much learning has driven you insane!” But the call to suffering isn’t unique to Paul. We find the same message in I Peter. The call we see to a sedate life of research in apologetics (I Peter 3:15) is really mere a prolegomenon to willing suffering. When you follow Jesus in this broken world, you will suffer. When the world sees you suffering as a Christian, it won’t get it. People will stare, they’ll point. They’ll even ask questions. When they do, be sure you’re prepared to give them a reason for the hope you have. He’s not talking merely about a hope of going to heaven when we die, but a hope that sustains us in the midst of suffering.

But then maybe Peter is just as zany as Paul. Out in the sun too much chasing fish, you know. But neither Paul nor Peter are original here. Both are taking up the message of Jesus, the one who said, “If anyone wants to follow me, let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.” Jesus’ original audience knew what crosses were for. They had no way to hear this except as a call to suffering.

Just how far ought we to take this? Ought we go the way of Ignatius of Antioch and practically throw ourselves at the first person willing to throw us to the ravening beasts? I don’t see that in scripture. What I do see, are people following Jesus in a world unfriendly to him and his ways. I, like Jesus, am called to go to that world and reclaim it and its citizens for the Kingdom of God. Some folks won’t like that. I believe there are non-human powers out there that won’t like it either. Just as there are consequences of sin beyond this world, there are consequences in this world when we join Jesus in his mission of reclamation. Because he went first, blazing the trail, defeating the powers of sin, death and hell, we can follow in his wake and hang on to his coat tails. His promise is that all who believe in him will have life – life beyond measure in this world, and on into eternity. I believe it’s worth my while to entrust my life and livelihood to him.

Posted in Ministry, Salvation, Theology | 2 Comments

Leadership Addiction

Posted on January 7, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

A few days ago, in my first post on the Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations, I noted that one of the strengths of the book was that it didn’t major on offering new ideas.

One of my weaknesses is that I seldom read only one book at a time. A short attention span, you know. One of the other books I’m reading right now is Edwin Friedman’s A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix. There’s a bunch of good stuff here, but at this point I thought I’d share a comment in line with my earlier comment on Schnase’s book. Friedman says,

The pursuit of data in almost any field, has come to resemble a form of substance abuse, accompanied by all the usual problems of addiction: self-doubt, denial, temptation, relapse, and withdrawal. Leadership training programs thus wind up in the codependent position of enablers, with publishers often in the role of “suppliers.” What does it take to get parents, healers, [pastors] and managers, when they hear of the latest quick-fix fad that has just been published, to “just say no?”

Posted in Edwin Friedman, Five Practices, Leadership | 3 Comments

Overcoming Incommensurability

Posted on January 7, 2008 by Richard Heyduck

Christian Amondson has an interesting post on issues of incommensurability, i.e., how communication can happen across narratival boundaries. Here’s my comment:

Do we want to say that the incommensurability between the Christian world/narrative is essentially different from the incommensurability that exists between other worlds?

Some worlds are thin enough that they are by necessity incommensurable. Football and baseball are so thin that though both are sports/games, there is no room for overlap, no way to sensibly (from either perspective) play both at the same time.

When it comes to Christianity and other worlds/narratives I have a few ideas.

Those of us that inhabit the Christian narrative also inhabit other narratives. While our primary allegiance may be to Jesus and his story, we are also always immersed in other stories, our broader culture in particular. Because of this we, at the very least, jostle up against those whose primary allegiance lies in a story other than Jesus’.
God is a participant in the ongoing Christian story. As that story impinges on other stories through those of us who embody it, our jostling with participants in other stories is more than just us. Through us God is invading their territory.
There is no guarantee that the sense God might make to the inhabitants of other narratives through us will make any sense to us. It’s also likely that what God does won’t make sense to the inhabitants of those other traditions. BUT – and I think this is important – the non-sense that God’s work through us makes can serve as a crowbar to pry open their eyes (I speak figuratively) and arouse questions that can draw them to Christ.
One of the chief forms of jostling that we see in Scripture is suffering. Thinking of 1 Peter, we see the admonition to always be ready to give an answer for the hope that we have. While I was long taught that this meant (roughly), “Study the Josh McDowell books so you can quote their arguments to non-believers,” the context is actually critically different. Rather than assuming the issues are primarily intellectual, Peter’s assumption is that by following Jesus we’ll run smack into the world and suffer for doing so. But the Christian way of embracing suffering will be so non-sensical and strange to outsiders that they’ll be compelled to ask questions. THAT’S when our answers come in.
Finally, I’m not a Barthian. I think God as creator plays a role in every culture or narrative out there. The role may be deeply hidden, hard to find, unpredictable. But some how, in some way, God will be there pointing the way to Christ. So when we come along – whether in strength or weakness (if the NT picture is normative and not merely descriptive, weakness will be more common than strength) – and impinge on or jostle with their narrative/world, then it can be an occasion for God saying, “See! This is what I was trying to tell you about!”

Posted in Culture, Evangelism, Theology | 4 Comments