Thinking-Christianly

Sometimes God assigns you a task that seems overwhelming. It’s something you feel compelled to do in obedience to his call to walk by faith, but you find it full of risks and dangers.

It might be bringing up that issue with the person at work that’s driving everyone crazy. Someone with courage and compassion needs to, but everyone has been avoiding it. And you’ve become convinced God wants you to be the one. Maybe the challenge relates to a friend, a spouse, or someone in your family network. You try to dismiss it, but it won’t go away.

It might be the challenge to learn. Most adults pretend they can’t memorize scripture. But we learn new songs and commercial jingles all the time. We memorize details from casual conversations that we repeat to others with great clarity. Or it might be enrolling in a class or reading a book with a friend. The threat of embarrassment and failure can be an emotional deterrent, but God is laying this on your heart and it’s time to act.

One wonderful dimension of God’s leading is that he often will give you a bit of extra encouragement to walk in faith and accept that risky assignment. When Mary was told that she would be the mother of the messiah, she responded with faith and trust. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she said to the angel. “May it be to me as you have said.”

Being human, there must have been a thousand questions that went through her mind. Did she understand the messenger’s words correctly? How was this going to happen? What would Joseph do? Would she be denounced by her parents and her synagogue?

The angel told Mary of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. Mary was not commanded to see Elizabeth, but she went. That was when God used the words of another flesh and blood person to encourage her. In Luke chapter 1 Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice. Prompted by the Holy Spirit, she affirms her in Luke 1:39-45.  In the last sentence of her recorded words, Elizabeth says, “Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!” Those words of reassurance and faith must have meant much to Mary.

God invites you and me to encourage trust and faith in one another. In fact, Hebrews 10:24 instructs us to “consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” Yours may be the voice that God desires to use in the lives of others this week to help them step out on faith and discover new dimensions of God’s faithfulness and spiritual growth. Ask God to make you sensitive to those divine moments that he’s put in your path. Watch expectantly. And ask him for the wisdom to speak faith and trust into the lives of others!

It’s strange that when you are in Christian circles and ask a group to describe the things for which they are thankful, you often encounter long periods of uncomfortable silence. We can think of common realities like gratitude for freedom, friends, family, and whatever measure of health we may enjoy. But often we don’t demonstrate much reflection in our answers. The what-are-you-thankful-for question sometimes catches me off guard as well. I suspect it’s because we don’t live in a culture that prompts us to ponder the generosity of God very often.

But the practice of reflecting and appreciating God’s generosity is a good discipline, so here’s a modest attempt for me to express some of the things for which I’m thankful on this Thanksgiving Day.

I’m thankful for those of you who read this blog and find its words encouraging, challenging, and in some way helpful. I never want to write from a narcissistic point of view, as if what I am thinking and feeling at the moment should be significant to you. My opinion doesn’t count for much. But if I can somehow help you interact with God’s thoughts, then maybe this blog will have some value. Thanks for spending some of your precious time reading sentences like this one and considering some of the issues raised here.

God deserves my thanks for the mechanisms that make this blog possible. This technology did not exist 20 years ago. Years ago some very patient people taught me to read and type. Others inspired my ability to write in cogent sentences. And my wife graciously responds to me when I forfeit time with her to write words like these.

I’m thankful for the shoulders of the spiritual men I stand on today. The Christians who have preserved their thoughts in writing and fed my soul are such a blessing. There is so much more I want to learn from them before I meet the Author of all truth. And then there are those who were or are my teachers and mentors. Their wisdom and spiritual maturity challenges, and sometimes rebukes me. It’s a privilege to share the Christ-life with so many quality people.

I’m touched by the people around me with humble character who live out their faith and live for the kingdom in great and small ways. This odd organism called the body of Christ, the church, is a great place to see the truths of God translated into living flesh. Sometimes we mess up the translation royally, but there are still enough successes to spur me onward in ways where I need to grow.

As you reflect on God’s goodness and kindness in your life, try to step off the highway of the common thank-yous and wander down some less traveled paths as you cultivate a spirit of gratitude to Christ.

The poster for the newest James Bond film pictures a man you don’t want to mess with. He appears armed and very dangerous. This Hollywood visual theme is very common. You see it in the promotion of films in the Dirty Harry series with Clint Eastwood or the Rambo series with Sylvester Stallone. The world has its own definition of an intimidating personality.

In Mark chapter 6 we encounter a man who inspired some measure of fear in King Herod. This person was not the king of a larger empire or an official from Rome. Herod felt somewhat intimidated and outmatched by an unlikely person. Mark 6:20 states, “…Herod feared John and protected him, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man.” It’s a surprising glimpse into the esteem Herod had for John the Baptist.

There is something quietly impressive about a holy life. There is a reflection of something uncommon in godly living that often produces a grudging respect in the thinking of others. It does not mean that they won’t disagree with the believer’s beliefs and convictions. Herod and his wife continued their immoral relationship. It does not mean those outside the faith will always come to our aid. Herod in his weakness and fear of shame yielded to his wife’s request that John the Baptist die. Along with the injustice and suffering that sometimes accompanies obedience, God creates an intimacy with himself, a spiritual strength, an eternal perspective that will often produce grudging respect, even holy fear, in the hearts of those who don’t yet trust Christ.

There is something truly intimidating about a holy life. It robs others of their excuses that they must live a life of narcissism and selfishness. It condemns their shallowness and their moral apathy. It suggests that there is a righteousness available through Christ that brings with it the power of radical personal transformation. Such realities can be frightening in a world afloat in mediocrity.

If you are a committed Christ-follower, the impact you have on others is probably greater than you imagine. A measure of respect may lie behind the criticism, the discrimination, and the sarcasm that are on the surface. John the Baptist intimidated Herod, but not through force. He did so simply by the power of holy living. Imagine what would happen if this generation of Christians did the same.

When someone understands what Christ did for them on the cross and realizes that Jesus offers eternal life for free, they face an offer that is hard to refuse. Any of us who believe in life after death and the prospect of judgment for our wrongdoings would be foolish not to opt for eternal life and avoid the judgment. That’s what we’re told happens when we believe when we trust Christ and believe that he was our substitute. If the invisible realities of the Christian message are true, rejecting it doesn’t make sense.

As we voice this message to those around us, we often invite people to, “Accept Christ.” We call others to acknowledge their moral failure, repent, and place their trust exclusively in what Christ did on their behalf in order to reconcile them to God.

To be honest, I wonder if our approach is flawed. What does the language of “accepting Christ” mean to people today? Is it like accepting an offer when you sell a used couch to a friend? Is it like resigning yourself to the fact that your candidate lost an election and his opponent won? It is living with the reality that your father has diabetes? The language strikes me as strangely passive. The reality is more than acquiescing to a spiritual set of facts. Yet often we settle into a very passive response.

I tend to agree with A.W. Tozer when he argues that “accepting Christ” in this fashion is not transformational. He insists that true believers are those who “abandon themselves” to Christ. There is a power that is released in relinquishing ourselves to Jesus that reflects a new kind of loyalty and a new kind of life. It’s much more difficult than agreeing with an abstract fact about what happened at Easter. It challenges our will, upsets our priorities, and unmasks our pride.

Why do many “Christians” drag their spiritual feet in things of faith? Why are so many of us addicted to the world and its values? What accounts for the lethargy and apathy and resistance to live as kingdom people? I wonder if it might not be linked to our mentality of “accepting Christ” without “abandoning” ourselves to him. Maybe it’s time we examined our language and defined vibrant, life-giving faith in more aggressive terms.

A 9/11/08 article in the Wall Street Journal described the challenge Pope Benedict has in making religion a viable topic in the nation of France. The article (Pope Benedict Tries to Bridge Gaps Between Reason, Faith and France) cites a 2007 Pew Global Attitudes survey in which 17% of French Catholics said faith was required for morality. One would expect the percentage of non-Catholics in France to score even lower.

The nation of France is committed to secularism. In 1905 church property was expropriated by the state. In 2004 all religious symbols were banned from schools and other public places. The ruling bureaucrats reject absolutes of any religion, and relegate faith to a private matter. Yet somehow the nation pretends it can call people to principles of living that will promote a stable society.

The real question for the future of France (and secular thinkers in any part of the West) is, “What foundation do we use upon which to construct principles for our society?” The secularism that does not recognize any supernaturally given absolutes must build some kind of arbitrary base. But the bricks that comprise that base can change at any time. Neither a ruling elite (elected or not) or a 51% vote of the masses defines any principles that will be valid a year from now. In a secular state, there is no guarantee that any value cherished today will survive the next election or the next stroke of a pen. Any historic operating principle can be amended, reinterpreted, or ignored.

If absolutes are extinct, there is no standard against which their pronouncements must be tested. The actions of Italy and Germany in the last century demonstrated that principles most of us would oppose can be embraced by nations as quite normative. Even today governments are ordered around values that treat women as second class or persecute those who choose to embrace particular religious values. If there is no recognized law above the law, one even has to ask if there is any loss when persuasion is replace by coercion and liberty by bureaucratic social engineering. By what standard is one better than another?

The lack of an absolute against which personal and governmental behavior is measured ultimately threatens everything. Because we are still living off the moral capital of the Reformation in the West, we assume that some values we cherish will not evaporate. But such a perspective is too idyllic, given the last 3,000 years of human history. To build without a base anchored in a divine absolute is to invite erosion that can lead to conditions of great injustice and repression.

One of the apparent contradictions in the bible revolves around the issue of seeing God. John 1:18 states, “No man has seen God at any time.” Yet  Exodus 33:11 says, “The LORD would speak to Moses face to face.” The two texts seem to contradict each other. What is the answer?

R.A. Torrey makes a good observation about this kind of language. When we make everyday statements, we say things in ways that are correct, but may differ in the degree of precision intended. He uses the example of someone saying, “I’ve seen the back of my head.” Most of us understand that to be a true statement. We assume the person either looked at a photograph or video, or looked in one or more mirrors to see himself from that perspective. We would not call him a liar for saying that. However, that is technically not a true statement. He may have seen a photograph of himself or a reflection of himself in a mirror, but no one can with their own eyes directly see the back of their head. Yet in normal communication we do not require that understanding of the statement.

Since God’s eternal essence is not visible, no one has seen him in that sense. He may choose to reveal himself through a mediator, a theophany, in a vision, or through Christ who said, “He who has seen me has seen the Father.” In these secondary ways he becomes visible. But his eternal essence is still something we cannot perceive at the present time.

Two weeks ago the Sunday service in Mount Hope Church in Michigan took an unexpected turn.  During the service Protesters stood up, threw fliers at churchgoers and shouted slogans such as “It’s OK to be gay,” and “Jesus was a homo.” They also pulled a fire alarm and unfurled a banner from the church balcony. Others in the group demonstrated outside the church at the same time as the indoor protest.

Thomas Sowell notes that there are a number of advocacy groups that feel they have the “right to win,” even when their causes are defeated in the democratic process. He noted with alarm that some blacks traveling through UCLA were accosted and showered with racial epithets by gay activists because 70% of the black community in California supported Proposition 8.

I’d like to suggest that there are lessons here for the Christian community. Most people, regardless of their sympathies, are turned off by disrespectful behavior—at least at this point in American history. There is a clear moral line between speaking out for the truth—even in protest—and intimidation.  Those who stand against the call to righteousness are eager to parade disrespectful Christian behavior on YouTube and in the press.

Luther’s posting of his 95 theses on the door of the church in Wittenberg was a respectful revolution of ideas. He challenged the religious establishment to debate the concepts that shaped the religious life of his day. When Paul sought to engage the Stoic and Epicurean philosophers of Athens, he did so in the realm of ideas. Though they labeled him a “babbler,” (Acts 17:18) some became followers of Paul. Whenever we engage our skeptical culture, it cannot be in a spirit of vengeance, intimidation, or coercion. We cannot allow ourselves to adopt the methods of our culture. Doing so undermines the very character we are called to display to a distrusting world.

One of the qualifications for spiritual leaders in 1 Timothy 3:7 is somewhat surprising: “He must also have a good reputation with outsiders.” This does not mean we will be popular when we speak of Christ. The ideas that form the gospel will always be offensive to some. But it does mean that the manner in which we conduct ourselves is not offensive.

Fortunately, the accounts of Christians who behave irresponsibly are rare. But even a few will be magnified well beyond their numbers. So we who know Christ and seek to represent him faithfully must live above the mean-spirited religious protesters and the bad propaganda.

The good news for Christians is that the message we bear will prevail because it is grounded in the reality of the true God who speaks in the Bible. We don’t have a “right to win” in a cultural sense, but we know that the eternal message we’ve been given by God will ultimately “win.” (See Romans 3:4.) We don’t have to resort to cheap tricks or aggressive tactics to make the message effective. Those who oppose the truth frequently may resort to ad hominem (name calling) arguments or threats because the logic of their positions fails. We are summoned to speak to our fellow men and women with compassion, honesty, and character, regardless of the number of those who seem to agree with us at any moment in history. And then we are effective light bearers.

What comes to mind when you think of a good person? Someone who is charitable? Someone who shows kindness to others? Someone who does not steal, curse, cheat, or commit adultery? It’s natural for us to begin defining goodness in terms of avoiding actions that injure others and engaging in those actions that help others. And most of the time we can think about ways we do both and thereby qualify as a good person.

One of the difficulties with the Bible is that it doesn’t stop there. It consistently moves beyond the obvious acts of goodness and the obvious sins to ask you and me to look at the individual moments of our lives and assess how we’re doing there. Jesus was especially gifted at helping those who heard him redefine godliness in terms of simple daily actions and attitudes.

In Matthew 12:36-37 Jesus meddles with us by probing into the small things we say. He says, “But I tell you that men will have to give account for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.”

Jesus understands that who we are is reflected not only in the great declarations and affirmations we make, but in the unplanned things that come out of our mouth. It’s easy for me sound godly when I’m affirming some great truth of the faith. Jesus reminds me that it’s easy for me to reflect ungodliness in my careless words. When I feel threatened or offended I can respond with sarcasm and not even realize it. It may be a single sentence lost in a paragraph of words. But it says something about my unconquered pride and ego.

Careless words often have a judgmental tone about them. I can criticize one person in the presence of another and pretend that my only motive is to uphold righteousness. But think about it. How does it benefit anyone if I tell Chris that Alex procrastinated about a task he and I worked on? My critique is destructive unless there is some kind of relationship or mutual accountability. Perhaps the darker motive is to demonstrate to Chris that I’m more righteous than poor Alex. This tendency seems endemic in our culture. It leads to gossip, slander, backbiting, and unhealthy competition.

Another form of carelessness comes in adopting the speech patterns of the culture. Public discourse is more crude today than it was 30 years ago. It’s more difficult to avoid vulgarity and profanity. You may work or live in an environment where there are no guidelines for respectful speech. Such language creeps into our thoughts, and it takes great effort not to reflect it in our casual speech. But this goes beyond avoiding swearing or cursing. It touches the ways in which we express our emotions or assert our values. It’s easy to forget to show grace and respect when we’re passionate about a value or principle in the workplace, the government, or the church. And though our speech may be clean in the sight of most, it is not honoring to God.

It’s not a matter of suppressing our thoughts and feelings. It’s an issue of reflecting on the fears, jealousies, proud attitudes, and self-centeredness that are subtly reflected in our casual comments. And it’s surrendering these unfinished parts of our lives afresh to Christ so that even our casual words honor him. For in the end, Jesus reminds us that we will be held accountable for every word we speak.

I recently responded to a question about the length of the days in creation. How long were the six days of creation? Were they six indeterminate periods of time or were they days as we understand them—about 24 hours in length?

One dilemma with this question is that Christians who believe the historicity of Genesis chapters 1-11 have allowed themselves to be polarized over this issue. That is unfortunate, because it tends to divide the body of Christ on an issue where both sides stand against the alternatives of the world. Regardless of the timing, both sides agree that the Bible clearly depicts God as creating all that exists—all matter and energy ex nihilo, that is out of nothing. The first atom, the first protein molecule, the first strand of living DNA all came from him.

Materialists have no credible alternative. They can pretend that matter and energy are eternal, which violates the second law of thermodynamics. Or they can claim that our part of the universe came from some other place in the universe. But this only prompts the question, “Where did the first part come from?” And so the question regresses without being answered.

The biblical answer clearly points to the fact that God preexisted time and space and designed all that we see. It’s a logical picture that makes sense except for those who arbitrarily exclude any kind of supernatural account of origins. But their dismissal is not scientific. It’s philosophical. And it’s arbitrary.

Back to the question of how long this took. The sequence in Genesis 1 is depicted in days. The difficulty in describing this precisely comes in the use of the Hebrew word “day.” It is used in three different ways in the Old Testament. Sometimes it refers to what we call daytime, the period between sunrise and sunset. Sometimes it refers to a full rotation of the earth—approximately 24 hours to us. Sometimes it refers to a period of time. The Bible speaks of the “day of the Lord” or the “day of Christ” or the “day of wrath.”

In Genesis 1:5, for example, the word for “day” appears twice, but does not mean the same thing both times. My suspicion is that God did not describe the time period with stopwatch precision because the key issue is not the length of his creative work, but the fact that it occurred. How long does it take for a sovereign God to call matter into existence? A fraction of a millisecond would be sufficient. In some ways it’s like asking, “How long did it take Jesus to transform water into wine?” It does not matter. The fact is, he did it!

We can extrapolate current biological and chemical processes and guess about the timetable God might have used. Our curious nature will want to know. There are variables we cannot accurately weigh in any creation scenario we may devise. And Christ’s miracles prove God can shortcut what we know as normal processes. So it would be best not to be dogmatic about the possibilities we devise.

As God brought something out of nothing and order out of chaos, he created the universe that we know and made us in his image and for his glory. Let that be our focus in any case.

Note: I’ve been on a week long trip–hence the gap in posts. It’s good to engage with you again!

Every now and then you hear an account of someone who has either found new clues as to the whereabouts of Noah’s ark, or someone who is launching a new investigation into the location of the ancient vessel.

I must admit I’m skeptical about such a quest. Those who deny the historicity of Genesis argue that such a search would be fruitless because it is looking for a myth. It’s like trying to find the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland.  My personal skepticism is on different grounds. I do believe that the history of Genesis is accurate. However, there are other factors that would deter me from such a quest.

Scripture seems to picture God as one who is not all that interested in relics. He finds ways of destroying them or removing them from the scene. I think this is because he knows our tendency to worship such things, as happened in the case of the bronze serpent of the wilderness wanderings. Whenever the church becomes enchanted by the objects God uses, it often goes astray.

I also wonder if the ark could have survived after the flood. It would seem logical for Noah, who lived another 350 years, to dismember parts of the ark for shelter or other purposes. Why abandon something he had invested in so greatly? Even if he simply left it, my guess is he did not sanitize it first. There was probably enough bacteria in most of it to advance the normal process of decay. I admit this is speculation since we don’t have records of what the climate was like in the immediate area. But it is worth considering.

Another factor that cools my excitement about searching for the ark is that it would be difficult to demonstrate that any artifact found would be connected with the account of Noah. Any findings might be suggestive, but not conclusive. (We don’t want to make the same leaps that skeptics do when they find the name “Jesus” in the ancient world and immediately conclude that the person described is Jesus of Nazareth. [Jesus was a common name.])

I am not discounting archaeology in general. Many of the historical claims of the Bible have been confirmed by evidence such as burn patterns in ancient cities or Babylonian records of wars with the kings of Israel. We have discovered much about the exodus and the life and resurrection of Christ. But God has apparently chosen to leave some evidence of his work in history a bit elusive. He is not obligated to preserve corroborating proof of all he does in history.