When we started our church some years ago, the phrase we used to describe the church we wanted to become is ‘a church without walls’.
I’m not sure any of us knew what that meant; some taking it to mean that we’d choose a field over a building to host services, while others thought that if we had walls, we wouldn’t be confined to them.
Since then we adopted a Statement of Faith that insisted that Jesus is the only way to God. Then we bought our own church building and later adopted a marriage policy to say we wouldn’t marry gays.
Now we have a church with no gay couples, no Muslims, no Sikhs, and no Buddhists. And now we have walls.
The dream we had of becoming a ‘church without walls’ eludes us.
This is not what we intended. For God’s house is to be a house of prayer for all nations, not just for people like us.
Walls may be good for reinforcing family values, but they’re an absolute hindrance to loving the stranger and reconciling with our enemies. Simply put - with walls we can’t do the gospel!
If I’m reading the Bible right (a huge 'if'), God’s ‘original operating system’ for making the church without walls is to boot (or ‘re-boot’...either verb works) the church into the world.
For in the world the church is without walls, free to love all people regardless of faith, race or sexual orientation.
How does the church make disciples of all nations?
She GOES (or she is booted) into the world without walls.
We have this assurance from Christ himself: despite her vulnerability not even the gates of hell can prevail against her.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Who would I choose between Jesus and Barabbas if al Shabab were killing my kids?
Then Pilate called together the leading priests and other religious leaders, along with the people, and he announced his verdict. “You brought this man to me, accusing him of leading a revolt. I have examined him thoroughly on this point in your presence and find him innocent…
Then a mighty roar rose from the crowd, and with one voice they shouted, “Kill him, and release Barabbas to us!” (Barabbas was in prison for taking part in an insurrection in Jerusalem against the government, and for murder.) Pilate argued with them, because he wanted to release Jesus. But they kept shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Luke 23:13-21
Some have conjectured that the choice given to the people by Pilate was between two Messiahs, one Jesus from Nazareth and the other Jesus Barabbas; between Jesus the love your enemy guy and Jesus the gun toting insurrectionist; between Jesus who overturns the evil empire by becoming obedient to death and the Jesus who fights empire with the same weapons the empire uses.
2000 years later and we are still faced with that choice. The beheading of Christians in Egypt, the killing of Christian university students in Kenya, the abduction of young Christian school girls in Nigeria has Christians wondering which Jesus should we choose: the one who forgives his enemies right after they’ve driven spikes through his hands or the Jesus who fights back and avenges his enemies. Do a little research on what Jesus taught and the conclusion is always the same: to choose Jesus of Nazareth is to turn the other cheek to those who strike us, love those who are out to kill us, pray for those driving the stakes through our hands and leave the revenge part up to God.
It is not the same as allowing ourselves to be trodden on, but if we are casual about it, it can seem that way. Until we actually try and do what he says and then we discover how his way is anything but passive.
There is nothing passive in loving one’s enemies, just as there is nothing passive about choosing to love in the first place. Love is active, turning the other cheek is active, not striking back when being struck is active, praying for those who plot our demise is active. It is weaponry of a different kind, the only weaponry capable of making friends out of enemies, sisters out of strangers, community out of conflict. It is the way of Jesus, the way of the cross, the way the resurrection of Jesus vindicates, the way his kingdom prevails.
But despite how clear the teaching of Jesus is on this subject, established Christianity has been inclined to choose the gun toting Jesus: the wrath of God Jesus, the hell, fire and brimstone Jesus, the Jesus who lives and dies by the sword. In choosing that Jesus we betray Jesus of Nazareth. We join the ranks of those yelling: “Crucify him, crucify him…we have no king but Caesar.” We choose the way of the insurrectionist over the way of the Nazarene, the way of the gun over the way of the cross, the way of revenge over the way of forgiveness and in doing so we are crucifying the Nazarene again. Our confession of Christ becomes meaningless, because when push comes to shove, we choose to push back as did Barabbas rather than rely on the power of God to forgive.
The days when we can afford to be casual about our Christian beliefs are ending. Our faith is again becoming a life and death affair. In one sense it always has been. Had Jesus come to any society regardless of its ethnicity or religion, he still would have come to same end: executed. His way remains so contrary, so threatening because he is no Barabbas and when we feel threatened, Barabbas is the Jesus we choose.
So now that it’s Easter, let’s fill our lungs and theology with the resurrection air we so desperately need and find the courage to follow the right Jesus. The future, not only of the church but of the world, relies on our making the right choice between the Resurrected One and the Dirty Harry one, between Jesus from Nazareth and Jesus called Barabbas.
Then a mighty roar rose from the crowd, and with one voice they shouted, “Kill him, and release Barabbas to us!” (Barabbas was in prison for taking part in an insurrection in Jerusalem against the government, and for murder.) Pilate argued with them, because he wanted to release Jesus. But they kept shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Luke 23:13-21
Some have conjectured that the choice given to the people by Pilate was between two Messiahs, one Jesus from Nazareth and the other Jesus Barabbas; between Jesus the love your enemy guy and Jesus the gun toting insurrectionist; between Jesus who overturns the evil empire by becoming obedient to death and the Jesus who fights empire with the same weapons the empire uses.
2000 years later and we are still faced with that choice. The beheading of Christians in Egypt, the killing of Christian university students in Kenya, the abduction of young Christian school girls in Nigeria has Christians wondering which Jesus should we choose: the one who forgives his enemies right after they’ve driven spikes through his hands or the Jesus who fights back and avenges his enemies. Do a little research on what Jesus taught and the conclusion is always the same: to choose Jesus of Nazareth is to turn the other cheek to those who strike us, love those who are out to kill us, pray for those driving the stakes through our hands and leave the revenge part up to God.
It is not the same as allowing ourselves to be trodden on, but if we are casual about it, it can seem that way. Until we actually try and do what he says and then we discover how his way is anything but passive.
There is nothing passive in loving one’s enemies, just as there is nothing passive about choosing to love in the first place. Love is active, turning the other cheek is active, not striking back when being struck is active, praying for those who plot our demise is active. It is weaponry of a different kind, the only weaponry capable of making friends out of enemies, sisters out of strangers, community out of conflict. It is the way of Jesus, the way of the cross, the way the resurrection of Jesus vindicates, the way his kingdom prevails.
But despite how clear the teaching of Jesus is on this subject, established Christianity has been inclined to choose the gun toting Jesus: the wrath of God Jesus, the hell, fire and brimstone Jesus, the Jesus who lives and dies by the sword. In choosing that Jesus we betray Jesus of Nazareth. We join the ranks of those yelling: “Crucify him, crucify him…we have no king but Caesar.” We choose the way of the insurrectionist over the way of the Nazarene, the way of the gun over the way of the cross, the way of revenge over the way of forgiveness and in doing so we are crucifying the Nazarene again. Our confession of Christ becomes meaningless, because when push comes to shove, we choose to push back as did Barabbas rather than rely on the power of God to forgive.
The days when we can afford to be casual about our Christian beliefs are ending. Our faith is again becoming a life and death affair. In one sense it always has been. Had Jesus come to any society regardless of its ethnicity or religion, he still would have come to same end: executed. His way remains so contrary, so threatening because he is no Barabbas and when we feel threatened, Barabbas is the Jesus we choose.
So now that it’s Easter, let’s fill our lungs and theology with the resurrection air we so desperately need and find the courage to follow the right Jesus. The future, not only of the church but of the world, relies on our making the right choice between the Resurrected One and the Dirty Harry one, between Jesus from Nazareth and Jesus called Barabbas.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
In a hundred words or less God is...
The National Post invited its readers to submit in a 100 words or less whether they believed in God or not and why.
Here was my submission, all 136 words of it:
I believe in God who justifies the ungodly, the ones so messed up they can't fix themselves, me included.
It is not just the expanse of creation nor the complex design and ingenuity embedded in a single living cell. It is quantum physics and the conflicting theories of light, that the more we think we know, the more the mystery God is, the more spellbound our incredulity and awe, 'How can this be?'
What persuades me in despair is the fact of his becoming one of us: vulnerable, accessible, wounded and real. Not confined to just a Holy Book but so real and present we can see him in the child without a parent, in the adult without a home, extending the borders of a thoroughly human and invincible kingdom which through love grows every day.
Here was my submission, all 136 words of it:
I believe in God who justifies the ungodly, the ones so messed up they can't fix themselves, me included.
It is not just the expanse of creation nor the complex design and ingenuity embedded in a single living cell. It is quantum physics and the conflicting theories of light, that the more we think we know, the more the mystery God is, the more spellbound our incredulity and awe, 'How can this be?'
What persuades me in despair is the fact of his becoming one of us: vulnerable, accessible, wounded and real. Not confined to just a Holy Book but so real and present we can see him in the child without a parent, in the adult without a home, extending the borders of a thoroughly human and invincible kingdom which through love grows every day.
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