The Merely Annoying Gospel

We’re killing the gospel to get people to listen.

What do I mean?

Well, remember how following Christ is supposed to be offensive, divisive, renewing (as in overwriting the old, not just refreshing it), death-to-self inducing and all that other “hard stuff.”

The gospel is designed by God to offend every sense of human strength. It flies in the face of every thought that we can “make it on our own” or “pull ourselves up by our bootstraps” or “DIY.” It stands in front of those notions and screams a very loud, “No! I’m sorry, but no. It just ain’t happening.”

Then it says, “But I’ll do it for you. All you have to do is follow.”

And every bone within us free-willed humans shouts, “No thanks, if I can’t do it myself, then I don’t want to do it. I don’t mind the gift, but the terms are too high. You can’t get me to admit that without you, I’m nothing.”

And like the rich young ruler, we often turn away.

But that’s the gospel. Or at least that’s the gospel God designed. The one we’re preaching nowadays has lost all that power. The sharp, dividing edge has been dulled. The offensiveness has been downgraded to mere annoyance.

The gospel is not  practical guidelines for a happy life.

The gospel is not a self-help book.

The gospel is not something you can take part of and ignore the rest.

The gospel is not something you can face without either admitting or ignoring the truth about your own spiritual state.

The gospel is not something that gives you the ability to feel “meh” about—it either offends you deeply and drives you away or it draws you to it deeply and offers you hope for change based on someone else’s ability.

Our modern gospel has been converted from something life-changing to something value-added.

Ironically, in doing so, in our efforts to make the “gospel” more appealing and less offensive to the average “unchurched Harry and Mary,” it is we ourselves, the Christian people who have become offensive. It is our “self-improved,” value-added, holier-than-thou-ness that offends our unbelieving friends and neighbors. We’ve stopped telling people that we’re just like them -- “such a worm as I” -- and we all need the offensive gospel that cuts us off at the kneecaps spiritually, and we’ve somehow started conveying the message that we’ve improved and that they can become more like us if they follow the same practical rules and spiritual guidelines.

We’ve taken the idea of an offensive gospel delivered by the “beautiful feet” of a loving and merciful and forgiving and thoroughly inoffensive people and turned it into an inoffensive (and thoroughly ineffective) gospel delivered by an offensive people. Seems to me we’re missing the point somewhere in all that.

I don’t mind people being offended by what I believe.

I do mind them being offended by me.

And I could be wrong, but isn’t that kind of the point of being salt and light in the world? I mean, isn't salt supposed to taste good?

[Link] Where Is the Kingdom?

We have become much too obvious about identifying what is “Christian” in the world. In fact, we have lost ground trying to gain ground. We have labeled and marketed a subculture and an agenda in the world. Christians have become much too visible. If you can say, “Here it is!” or “It’s over there!” then chances are you’ve got something other than the Kingdom of God. Not sure what it is but it isn’t that. Trying to identify and establish what is Christian in culture can easily work at cross-purposes with what God is already doing in the world.

The Kingdom of God is not something you can buy or sell or purchase a ticket to. You can’t market it or vote it in. You can’t put it in power because it is already in charge. You can’t call it out because God hasn’t called it out. There will come a time when every eye will see it, but this is not that time. To pray “Thy Kingdom come” as Jesus taught us to pray is not to bring it as if it weren’t here. He told us already that it is here. It means to pray that we might be agents of doing His will on earth “as it is in heaven.” -- John Fischer

Read more: http://catchjohnfischer.wordpress.com/2013/04/15/where-is-the-kingdom/

Playing Judas

"If we can’t embrace our own sin, how can we claim to know anything about our own forgiveness? If we can’t identify with Judas, how can we pretend to identify with Peter, or John, or Matthew, or any of the others who all betrayed Him and denied they knew Him by running away in His time of need? We identify with good old Peter because he got forgiven and reconciled to Christ, but Judas went out and hanged himself. Do we not understand that? Can we not embrace that in our own character? Are we all so bent on being good Christians that we cannot connect with being the bad guy?"
     -- From John Fischer, "Playing Judas" (The Catch)

Read more: http://catchjohnfischer.wordpress.com/2013/04/09/playing-judas/

Equals/Unequals and Other Human Equations

It seems to me that people from opposite sides of religious, social, political, cultural, etc. issues should be able to disagree about things without being jackasses.

I'm sure that I'm as different from my progressive friends as I am from my conservative ones, from my devotedly religious friends as from my most un-religious ones. I'm sure I probably agree with many of my readers AND disagree with an equal number of my readers on subjects like abortion, gun control, gay marriage, whether Jesus is the son of God or just a fictional character, supporting the poor, affirmative action, euthanasia, stem cell research, etc.

Having different opinions doesn't make me a dick. Nor does it make you a dick.

It's how we treat each about the differences that becomes an issue.

I wish we could realize that just having differing opinions, even about vital, important, crucial, life-changing stuff, doesn't make ANYONE less a person. I'm still proud to have you as a friend no matter how you vote or what church you attend (or don't) -- just as long as you don't become a jerk about it.

I know as many jackass democrats as republicans as independents. I know as many jackass Christians as Wiccans as atheists as agnostics. I know as many jackass straights as gays, and pro-gay as pro-straight. And I've know just as many -- thankfully more -- wonderful human beings who are democrats, republicans, independents, gay, straight, pro-life, pro-choice, Christian, Wiccan, agnostic, atheist, NRA members, pro-gun control folks, etc.

The trouble is that so few of us can beyond our own worldviews to actually listen to anyone else who believes differently or see them as anything but an opponent.

I think for me it gets down to is what setting my filter is adjusted to. Am I walking around looking for the differences or looking for what we have in common? Am I searching for opponents or for fellow humans?

This Easter Foolishness

"and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless..." -- 1 Corinthians 15:17, NASB

Today's the day we believers celebrate the event that makes us come off like people who have lost our minds, the event that confounds the wisdom of man and welcomes the faith of a child, the event that singularly transforms a grouping of "good advice" ideas into a relationship with the creator of all that is, the event that -- taken at the mere utterance of it -- separates one human from another ideologically and sets "man against man," yet ironically allows us as believers to open up to love everyone because we can finally exercise the ability to love supernaturally, and, as I said at the beginning, the event that even to describe it to someone else can immediately move you from the "pretty smart and normal guy" category to the "what a freakin' looney toon" category even if your friends would never tell you that to your face.

Today's the day we as believers celebrate the event that makes us fools while ultimately changing everything.

So I hope all my fellow believers have a happy, reflective, foolish, freaky, faith-filled, looney toon Easter!

It's not the singer, it's the song (with apologies to Survivor)

I put into words today something I've always known about my music listening habits but had never been able fully explain before (I think).

I enjoy music that showcases either the passion of the singer for the song (not his or her own voice), the work/art of the songwriter, the natural ability of the musician, and any combination thereof. What I don't (or perhaps can't) enjoy is music that showcases the vocal gymnastics of the vocalist or the hipness of the producer.

Now, I understand that those can cross sometimes. Hip producers can work with a fantastic and artistic band, and vocally gymnastic divas (of either gender) can fully deliver the breadth of a powerful song.

I also understand that sometimes a bad singer can deliver a powerful song (as my wife would say about Bob Dylan), or a woefully hip producer can ignore the intent of the songwriter and ruin what was an impactful song. 

I also know that my tastes have little to do with genre or style, but more with the passion intrinsic to the song or the performance (as long as said performance is about the song, not to show off the singer or band).

Listening to music has always been for me one of two things: (1) listening technically as a musician to better myself and "learn" the magic behind the song and (2) listening as a spiritual exercise as the song changes me somehow and says something to me. Very rarely do I "use" music as mere background noise, except at work, because that's expected in a retail environment. For me, listening to music is an active endearvor, not a passive one.

So, I guess this is all to say that when Lisa, the kids, and I argue about what station to listen to on the radio, I know know why I prefer to find a classic rock or "mixed-up" station rather than a top-40 one.

The dangerous, painful, agonizing, irritating and irksome side of faith

A good friend I respect posted this today: "I can't fucking stand the self-righteous religious hypocrites."

To which I responded: 

"I feel the same way, and when I do, that's when I have to remind myself that as a believer in grace and mercy, I have to continue to extend it to the same self-righteous asswipes (see, I still have issues with it myself) who make my faith seem so backwards and blind and well, self-righteous. It's a painful, two-edged sword to live.

"I live right in the middle of that world, and trust me, it hasn't apparently gotten any easier for us to see the planks in our own eyes while railing about the toothpicks in others' eyes."

I agree with him wholeheartedly, but that's the dangerous, painful, agonizing, irritating and irksome side of faith in a gracious God -- we're called to be like Him, including that whole quick to forgive thing.