The End Is Near!

I had an interesting thing happen this weekend while at an outdoor concert. Actually, I was listening to this guy.While listening , a couple of women came up to the crowd and began passing out literature about the end of the world…next month. May 21, 2011 to be exact. Technically, May 21 is the “Rapture” and the end of the world occurs in October. The women were associated with a group called Family Radio, a formerly Reformed group whose main emphasis in the last decade has been numerology. Hence, the date-setting.

People have been setting dates for the end of the world for a long time. Sir Isaac Newton was a chronic date-setter using the Book of Revelation, Neoplatonism, and alchemy while establishing the laws of the universe. Charles Taze Russell used the square footage of the pyramids and Egyptian symbolism in his calculations. William Miller is probably the most famous with his followers experiencing the “Great Disappointment.” From the ashes of the Millerites rose the Seventh Day Adventist Church.  There are hundreds of others who have been fascinated with that pastime. Don’t forget Nostradamus and the Mayans while you’re at it.

Sadly, just the few interactions I watched often ended in Christians chiding these “doomsday prophets” for their beliefs and mocking their sincerity. Of course, this was for the purpose shaming them into realizing the error of their date-setting ways. I saw one prominent minister “defending Jesus” with great zeal. Sure, there’s a good chance they are totally wrong about May 21. But that has little to do with the fact that they are made in the image of God and deserve their dignity as much as they next person. No one asked them about their families or their upbringing or their favorite book or their hobbies. Their date was wrong…so they were wrong. Honestly, it ticked me off. So, I decided to talk to them, too.

I took their literature and said, “Looks like you are getting bashed pretty good for what you are attempting to share.” “Yeah, we are but I suppose that comes with the territory,” one of the ladies said. I told her I can’t apologize for everyone’s behavior (though I do that on occasion), but I admire them very much for what they are doing. “Really?” she said. “Yeah, I do. I am so impressed with your willingness to believe in something so strongly that you allow it to impact your choices and your willingness to tell others about it. I’m not sure about May 21, but I do wish all Christians had your passion for what they believed.”

I haven’t figured out much, but here’s something I think I finally understand. Right doctrine is important…but it doesn’t ignite a flame in your heart to where you adjust your life to fulfill that passion. And when I interact with people who have that passion, I know they are going to be okay. Why? Because the same passion that may drive them to a place of error for a time also makes them open to the correction of the Holy Spirit. Of course, that bothers us – after all, they may doctrinally “infect” someone or teach them “bad theology” that we must undo. But I’m okay with that. Here’s why. The longer I am alive, the longer I realize that what I attempt to control is really the Holy Spirit’s job anyway. I can point out date-setting “errors” but what I can’t do is instill the passion of God inside someone’s soul. And to crush that zeal is much worse than having an incorrect date for the end of the world. I’ve made a ton of mistakes in my faith journey and it was in the midst of those mistakes that God could do his most complete work.

Next post, I’ll tell you why William Miller was so important to David Koresh and the Branch Davidians.

It’s Supernatural

I’ve been thinking about the idea of the “supernatural” in the Christian life. For a couple of months, I’ve been reading a steady diet of Watchman Nee, Malcolm Smith,  and Norman Grubb. And they often speak of something much deeper than your average Christian sermon ever introduces to a congregation today. Those readings have reminded me of things I’ve read by preachers associated with the Keswick “Higher Life” movement like F.B. Meyer, A.B. Simpson, and Hudson Taylor.

There are a couple of themes that keep coming back to me in all of their writings. First, most have done extensive missionary work, often times writing some of their most poignant spiritual thoughts down far removed from the paradigm of the “Western church.” Second, they all write about something called the “exchanged life”: that the basic premise of the Christian walk is not found in appropriating a particular task or objective (“don’t do that, make sure you do this”) but rather to allow the Holy Spirit to work in and through you. In other words, we are not to “keep” the Ten Commandments – we are to lean into the transformation Jesus brings to us and he will keep the Ten Commandments through us by pouring his love into our hearts (Jer. 31:33-34, Rom. 5:5, Rom. 13:8-10, Gal. 5:13-18).

But what stands out to me most in their writings is their understanding of what it means to live a supernatural life. Many in the world today believe for something “supernatural” that we often take for granted – simply because they have no other choice. When I think “supernatural,” I usually think of some sort of miracle - something far beyond my own abilities or expectations. But after talking with a number of friends over the past month, believing for a miracle is relatively easy compared to believing God for the “supernatural” in other ways. For example (at the risk of sounding crude), if I pray for someone to receive healing for a terminal disease their recovery has little to do with me or my family. Or I can pray for someone to rise from the dead and if it doesn’t happen, the dead person is no worse off for it. It doesn’t affect my livelihood.

I’m finding that it’s much more difficult to be “supernatural” about the ordinary needs of life.  The purchase of a home. Paying for new tires on a car. Relocation and job changes.  Choosing a school system for our children. Walking through a divorce with grace and dignity. In any of these or thousands of other scenarios, the stakes are much higher. My family, finances, relationships, and well-being could suffer drastically. And if I choose to not believe in God’s “supernatural” ability to be involved in the details of my life, the result may be disastrous. Plus, there’s only one person to blame for those repercussions: me. I need (we all need) the same guidance in the personal details of our lives that I would need when praying for a miracle. That’s been my focus recently. I pray God gives you the same sense of spiritual “weight” to your decisions.

The Failure of Sgt. Pepper

I love music. And I love the Beatles. I believe it is my God-given mission in life to help my children learn how to play every Beatles song. The girls have heard Revolver and Rubber Soul. Yesterday on the way to school, I introduced my girls to the Sgt. Pepper album. Normally the girls talk and play as they listen to different music. I play them all sorts of things: Sam Cooke, the Jackson 5, praise and worship music, Miles Davis, Muse, Handel, Weezer, etc. But when I put this album on, they stopped talking. Completely stopped.  For them, it was like pouring a painter’s pallette of colored music in their brain. I thought their little brains were gonna explode. I told them, “Some people think this album is the greatest album ever made.” My oldest daughter said, “Yeah, I think it may be.” Pretty astute observation for a 6 year old.

But I love this album for another reason: it’s a half-baked idea that was successful. When the idea for Sgt. Pepper was originally conceived, it was supposed to be a concept album. A few songs are – obviously the opening songs and the reprise. But much in the middle has little to do with the Sgt. Pepper concept. “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever” were removed from the album for a double-sided single. Paul would later say that the album was “a complete thing that you could make what you liked of—just a little magical presentation.” Complete but a creation on its own.  It’s connected in its musicality if not in its inspiration.

To me, Sgt. Pepper represents a beautiful success that rises out of the failure of an idea. This is a great lesson for church leadership. The Beatles had no doubt that they could create a concept album. But what emerged was a collaborative effort that took on a life that was larger than Billy Shears. There’s a primal faith in that decision. Often times in church circles, we feel we must have everything ironed out before we put something into play. But if the Christian life is anything, it’s not neat and tidy. And in the same way, often times the most successful avenues of ministry are those that are concept-oriented but eventually take on a life of their own once handed over to individuals. Parts are successful while other parts fail. That’s really what relying on the Holy Spirit is all about. There’s something that seems right when you can release a project into the hands of a congregation and say, “This is where the Holy Spirit takes over.” At that point, we give God the freedom to weave his own revelation into the nuances of church life. And that’s when he creates “Sgt. Peppers” of his own.

 

Empowered Humility

My understanding of humility growing up was probably similar to yours. It involved shunning accolades, making sure I gave honor to God, declaring my unworthiness for salvation, and the like. I felt as though the compliments of others were poison darts filled with pride that would pierce my spiritual armor. The only way to defeat it? Deflect them with a good case of the “awww…shucks” and a hearty soli Deo gloria.

Now, I understand that perspective as a form of false humility – attempting to create within myself a facade of good-natured humility when really I craved the approval of others. I was not authentic. I said the correct things but relished in the attention/compliments of others. I now understand humility as something drastically different. Most people’s view of humility involves a resignation to some form of inactivity/timidity for the sake of “preferring others better than oneself.” And though that has a place in the Christian walk, it’s not the whole story. Empowered humility is really the defining mark of a Christian. In Romans 12, we find a recipe for Christian behavior. From the outset, Paul spends his time using action verbs – examples of behavior that are anything but idle. Even the verbs describing the willingness to put others’ interests in front of our own are intense, purposeful, and focused. It reminds me of the time-honored industrious phrase, “If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up…” Verse 21 describes it best: “overcome evil by doing good.”  

You know, God is good, too. Tucked within the definition of “good” in any solid Greek lexicon is the idea of being productive. God’s actions are what ultimately declare his goodness. God looked at all he created and said it was good – it was active, dynamic, and teeming with life…just like him. We are made in his divine image – in Christ, we possess that same ability to be “good”: productive, active, constructive, energetic, and vigorous. But our common understanding of humility seems to state the opposite as if humility or meekness involves inactivity. To me, empowered humility involves taking the initiative under the direction of  God. Humble people see the desires and wishes of their Maker and move to make them a reality. Humility is not standing in a corner. It’s submitting ourselves to God and following him into active battle. It’s placing your life in the hands of another to fight for their cause with your life.

Empowered humility also involves attentiveness to the Holy Spirit and a willingness to put aside our own agendas and live an active life under guidance of the Spirit. There are countless examples of this in the Bible – active heroes and heroines who caught the vision of their Maker and moved forward to advance God’s vision: Noah, Abraham, Deborah, David, Nathan, Daniel, Hosea, the Apostles, Priscilla and Aquilla, Phoebe…the list goes on and on. And don’t forget the certainty and strength of Jesus – humble resolve in the face of persecution, need, and death. We know these names because they acted with the certainty of God, not because they were “shrinking violets” and emotional “doormats.” They were not weak. They were strong. But they weren’t strong for their own purposes. They were strong for God.  Forward-motion humility, empowered by the Holy Spirit. If you’ve been waiting for God to move, you’re backing up…

Three Phrases Worth Saying

Or at least I hope that I can say them over my lifetime. 

I’m still in self-reflection mode from last year. I know. I should be done by now. I’m not. Sorry to disappoint. Two phrases deal with people and the other deals with God.

“I want to like him/her.”   I was asked this past year what I thought about a mutual acquaintance. Honestly, everything I had heard about the person was less than desirable. But the truth of the matter is that perception is not always reality. It rarely is. I heard these words come out of my mouth and couldn’t believe that I had said them. I want to like that person. Regardless of whether or not I have reason to do so, I always want to be open to the Holy Spirit giving me the desire to show God’s love when it’s least reasonable. There’s a subtle nuance here. We can’t always get along with everyone. But we can always desire to get along with everyone. Maybe that’s shooting for the moon or something. It certainly doesn’t come  natural to anyone. I suppose that’s why it has to be a point of supernatural surrender.

“There’s a lot you can learn underneath the bus.“   I heard this phrase on some podcast in the last six months. Don’t ask me which one – I can’t remember. But that phrase stuck with me. People will throw you under the bus with little reservation. And the image here is that others who get thrown under the bus often write their words of wisdom on the underside. And there’s a lot to learn there. Sometimes it helps to stay there for a while and reflect. But as you tell your story under the bus, others will tell you theirs. And you’d be amazed at how similar they are sometimes. I’m not a fan of betrayal, hurt, pain, or broken relationships…but I’m beginning to figure out that there are few ways faster to learn about people and about life. It’s like going from dial-up to a T1. Everyone has been under the bus before. And there’s a lot to learn there.

“Either way you and I are still good.”   Our church has spent a tremendous amount of time talking about prayer this past year. We’ve shared joy over answered prayers and disappointment with unanswered ones. Somewhere along the way, I started praying this phrase to God…and it’s been my anchor in a few situations. Often times, we don’t start praying for things until they get serious. There are all sorts of reasons for this…I’ll let you figure those out. But whether I start praying early or late, adding this phrase makes all the difference for me personally. Now, people love to pull the ol’ “if it be thy will” out of the hat when they know things could very well be disastrous. As if we’re hedging our bet in some way. But those are not the words of intimate friendship with God. They are the words of someone who doesn’t want to be disappointed. So, now I pray this phrase: “God please heal, help, protect, rescue this that or the other…but either way you and I are still good.” I believe he can do all those things…you aren’t gonna be able to convince me otherwise. But regardless of the outcome, our relationship remains. No matter what happens, God is still my best friend.

So, there you go. I invite you to say these phrases with me in the coming year. Particularly that last one…

“Feeling” God

I believe people need to “feel” God. In order to explain this I need to go into egghead mode. I’m gonna ramble for a bit if that’s okay with you…

Church ministry is a tricky business. Taking concepts developed in an innocuous vacuum of journal articles, magazine op-eds, and…well…blogs and translating them into real life is difficult. Rarely is the transition a smooth one. There’s a reason for this: while theology involves concepts, pastoring involves people. Though everyone lives from a place of personal theology, the outworking of that personal theology is often drastically different from one person to the next. Nurturing the growth of such a diverse group of folks can be the undoing of the most industrious minister. But I’ve noticed something that helps direct my personal ministry. One of the things I feel most “called” to in ministry is to help people understand and facilitate their ability to “feel” God.

I like to describe this idea idea using the term of somatization: the conversion of cognitive, emotional, or spiritual aspects into physical or tangible expressions. For spiritual purposes, it’s the work of  the Holy Spirit in bodily manifestation. Normally in the psychiatric/medical community, that term has negative connotations. But honestly, anything - good or bad, happy or sad – affects us physically. It’s the same idea found in the ridiculously overused term “psychosomatic.” Internal issues result in physical expression.

Over the years, I’ve watched many individuals have a spiritual encounter that completely shifted their personal paradigm of God’s nature and immanence. In each of those scenarios, experience (of some sort) confirmed the power of God available to them on a personal level. Personally, it struck me as odd that God would initiate a strong spiritual encounter when I knew that many of those who received it had little to no doctrinal knowledge. I believed God was doing things backwards; after all doctrine comes first, right? But it occurred to me that throughout the history of the church, many people openly rejected any attempt of indoctrination without a prior or accompanying spiritual experience to validate that doctrine’s truth. Once someone has an encounter where they “feel” God, they will desire to know more about the God who provided that experience. God anchors faith in experience until one becomes grounded in proper belief. I began to understand my pastoral role was to disciple a healthy and balanced Christian upon the foundation of those spiritual encounters – not denying their legitimacy or downplaying their appropriateness.

How Christianity translates the supernatural into daily life is the most important aspect of personal spirituality today. Many pastors and theologians are struggling with this. Contemporary Christians are eager to cast off strict, doctrinally-oriented approaches to Christianity without accompanying experience. We ask Christians all the time  to follow their beliefs with actions – that our love relationship with God requires corresponding expression in a personal way. But today’s Christians have turned the tables: they actually expect to understand God’s love through the experiences he provides. 

Christianity has always been a two-pronged religion. One side involves doctrinal ascent to a set of beliefs centering on the finality of Jesus Christ. The other side is more “subjective” – it involves the prospect of “feeling” God through experience. That experience becomes an anchor for faith that can be leaned upon as doctrinal maturity develops. Of course, ministers and theologians get this backwards all the time - we teach doctrine in hopes that it will lead to experience for our congregations. But people’s actions tell us differently. When they are forced to choose between experiencing something on a spiritual level or adopting a particular set of dogma, they most often choose experience, since they ultimately believe that experience will correctly inform their doctrine, not the other way around. In other words we’ve been doing theology backwards. Postmodern Christians don’t say “I believe because I know;” they say “I believe because I feel.” It doesn’t have to be crazy charismatic stuff…but it’s gotta be something.

Do you “feel” God?

The Books

I hope everyone is having a great holiday season.

At the end of the year, I suppose it’s good decorum to reflect on that year’s experiences. Yet, sometimes I find myself looking back further – looking at how this year has added to my overall life experience – just one chapter of many. I often look back at some conversations or books that altered my understanding about a topic. But what if I surveyed the most important books I’ve read to this point? Which books have shaped my worldview – which ones do I come back to? 

I take particular pride in the fact that I have never read The Purpose Driven Life, Blue Like Jazz, or any Max Lucado book. Indeed, you may say: “Sam, that’s exactly what’s wrong with you.” You may be right. But I have been reading something. The books below have been life-changing for me. Very few of them are well-known. Sorry the list is so long…

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression. As I wrote in the post before, I love the preaching style of “the Doctor.” Many of his sermons were edited for books. People love the Acts or Romans or Semon on the Mount sermons. This series is my favorite. It deals with spiritual burnout. And I was there. This book (along with the two books below it) saved my spiritual life.

Wayne Jacobsen, He Loves Me. I was a perfectionist. A legalist. And very angry. I didn’t understand what the love of God was all about. I didn’t understand the meaning of unconditional love. This book changed that. It’s a great introduction into the grace-oriented freedom that Jesus brought to us.

Malcolm Smith, Power of the Blood Covenant. Using the theme of the blood covenant and the faithfulness of God as its guideline, this is the best summation of the Christian life I have ever read. Hands down.

Jeff VanVonderen, Families Where Grace Is in Place. Within two years of our wedding day, our marriage was on the rocks. This book saved it. VanVonderen talks about how to create a family (as spouses and parents) where biblical notions of grace are at the center. No more controlling, fear-tactics, and shame. The McVeys and Kimmels are more popular but Jeff was the original. We’re still married, by the way.

Clark Pinnock and Robert Brow, Unbounded Love. I’ve read a good many systematic theologies. This one is different. The late (and great) Pinnock was a renown theologian and the late (and great) Brow was an Episcopal priest. The book is an honest attempt to create a systematic theology around the simple premise that God is love. It’s a breath of fresh air. From the conclusion: “God is so radiant that he deserves a beautiful theology, theology done with joy and thankfulness, theology that can dance and sing.”

Morton Kelsey, Encounter with God. A Jungian psychologist and Episcopal priest, Kelsey has written extensively on the intersection between the Bible, psychology, and spiritual experience. For me, Encounter with God is the pinnacle of those writings (though not his most well-known). He easily weaves theological, philosophical, and psychological sources together to create an understanding of how people “encounter” God and what they seek experientially from that encounter.  

Terence Fretheim, The Suffering of God. Several of the books on this list changed my understanding of the Old Testament. But this one changed my understanding of God using the Old Testament. Previously holding God at an emotional distance from his creation, this book helped me understand that God “feels”. The story of God is one of suffering in relation to humanity. Whether you agree with process or panentheistic thought, this book helped me relate to God in an entirely new way.

Abraham Heschel, The Prophets. Raised as an evangelical, the Hebrew prophetic books meant little to me other than a way to “prove” Jesus’ messianic claims. This book changed that for me – I finally understood the importance of the prophets and their lyrical narratives that reflected the heart(break) of God. No surprise that it took a world-renowned rabbi to bring me to those conclusions.

Richard Kyle, The Religious Fringe. This book is solely responsible for directing my academic interests. In it, Kyle (professor of history and religion at Tabor College) doesn’t just recount major religious movements in the Western tradition. He traces all the interconnections and tributaries that make the history of religion interesting. As someone who was deeply intersted in the charismatic lineage of the church and its ancillary movments, this book showed that tracing religious thematic trends through Western history was possible. A remarkable book.

Ronald Hutton, Triumph of the Moon. Second to Kyle’s book, Hutton’s introduced me to the Western pagan and esoteric tradition. I read this book on a church leadership retreat. I don’t remember anything that we talked about on the retreat…but I remember the importance of having a scholar peel back the historical layers of the neopagan movement and expose the “humanness” of religious seekers outside the Christian tradition. I finally stopped seeing heretics or heathens and began to see people reaching out for religious experience. Not sure that’s what I was supposed to be learning….

Anne Punton, The World Jesus Knew. This book is about the contexts of culture and archaeology that surround the stories of Jesus. It’s a wonderful introduction to all the other elements that inform the Gospel narrative that rarely makes it to general Christian readership. Thankfully, books like Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus are changing this, but this book was one of the predecessors.

Watchman Nee, Release of the Spirit. I was a worship leader at several churches for about ten years all together. I read some good articles and books on the technical aspects of leading worship. But this is the book I recommend to beginning worship leaders. It’s about ”breaking” the flesh so that God can release the spirit of each of us for ministry. True worship comes from this state of release. Worship leading is a spiritual event much more than it is a musical excercise. This book explains that event.

The Sin of Losing Hope

For those that follow this blog regularly, I posted about my personal devotional practices a while back. Part of that process has been to read through the monastic tradition of the Eastern Orthodox Church. Those writings are compiled in a series called the Philokalia. I love the theology of Eastern Orthodoxy. That may be strange since I work at a Protestant (Methodist) church. But much of Wesley’s theological flavor can be traced back to his love of the Eastern monastic tradition.  For example, in the Eastern Orthodox tradition, the term “theologian” had little to do with propositional truths and systematic theologies. A “theologian” was a guy who gave up his former existence for the chance to go pray on a mountain top for the rest of his life. A “theologian” was a person who could talk about God accurately simply because he spent all his time in prayer with God. Novel concept, huh?

 I came across a quote in the writings of St. John of Karpathos the other day that really got me thinking. He was writing to a group of monks in India who were struggling to keep the faith. He said this: “It is more serious to lose hope than to sin.” I stopped to absorb the quote…simply because it flies in the face of everything we are taught in Protestant Christianity. Sin is at the center. The cross happened because of sin. Guilt over sin is often used as a “motivator” for better living. And here’s this 7th century monk making sin take a back seat to losing hope. 

So, I began to cross reference conversations and actions of the past few months. And as I sat there, the common theme with many that I spoke with was hopelessness. People who had been “beat up” by life: co-workers, family, bosses, “the economy,” etc. Some of them had been viciously skewered by the church. And all around them they had well-meaning people cheering for their return – rooting for them to get up and dust themselves off and jump back in the ring of life. But all they wanted to do was lay there. They had lost their hope.

Funny thing is, all these people are really good people. They love God, they love their families, they are all accomplished, well-educated, and respected by their peers. Their problem was not some over-the-top sin or tragic character flaw. They would be the envy of many…they had done things “right.” Yet, it didn’t protect them for the hopelessness they felt. I told them the opposite of most of the other counsel they received. I told them to take their time. Heal their wounds. Regain their hope. Take as much time as you need. And when you’re ready, get up.

I think John of Karpathos is on to something here. He discovered something we rarely consider in Western Christianity. It is more serious to lose hope than to sin because hopelessness leads us to do things we would never consider otherwise. In many Christian circles sin is more important than hope, but the potential for sin lies in losing our hope. That’s why the Apostle Paul wrote things like this to the Ephesians: “I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called—his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance” (3:18). Find your hope first. The rest will follow.

Power or Character?, Part 1

How we interpret the Bible is one of the most fascinating topics of study. Not the “word study” and commentaries part of it. But the subjectivity of it. Yes, subjectivity. Theology (which simply means “God talk”) is a speculative endeavor. Each person’s life experiences are brought to bear on a passage of scripture and even though our paradigms “tell” us how to interpret it, we act as if our interpretation occurs in a vacuum. I suppose that’s part of our humanness – to assume objectivity.

So, knowing that we pass our understanding of God and the Bible through a particular paradigm, I thought I’d share with you two particular paradigms that may affect your reading of scripture and (possibly) challenge your assumptions about a particular text. The first is the context of power. The second is the context of character. The essence of the power context is “Who wins?” The answer is one of two answers: 1) I win or 2) God wins. Both answers are acceptable based on what the interpreter is attempting to achieve. The essence of the character context is “Who loves?” Scripture is interpreted according to the good character of a loving God or the character God builds in us through relationship with him. When placing these two styles side by side, it’s amazing how different the conclusions can be.

Let me give you a few examples. How about Jesus’ words in John 14:21?

“Those who accept my commandments and obey them are the ones who love me. And because they love me, my Father will love them. And I will love them and reveal myself to each of them.”

In the power context (the one I used to proclaim without hesitation), We have a simple back and white scenario: a Christian only loves God to the extent they follow his rules. The issue is not the individual, it’s the track record. As for winning and losing, a Christian wins when they keep the commandments (good luck) and God wins in making the comandments a clear line of demarcation for those who are following him. Not only does God judge you according to this standard – you can do the same by using the commandments to assess the Christian walk of others.

The character context looks at it differently. Concerned with the inside of a person, the character context reads the rest of that verse and places it within the words Jesus actually wrote – “love” and “reveal.” Rather than an outward measuring stick, a Christian keeps the commandments to the extent that their life has been transformed in relationship with Christ. Keeping commandments occurs as character changes rather than through a force of will. Relationship is created by keeping the rules. Obedience occurs out of relationship.

Here’s another verse – from Paul – Ephesians 2:22-24:

 For wives, this means submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For a husband is the head of his wife as Christ is the head of the church. He is the Savior of his body, the church. As the church submits to Christ, so you wives should submit to your husbands in everything.

This has been a power play for husbands for years. Who wins? The husband. Why? Because someone has to…and that’s the problem. Once spouses play to the power context, they purposefully set aside their relationship to keep score. And everytime someone loses, the relationship is hurt. But there are some important things about this passage that we can learn when we use a character context. For starters, we look at verse 21. But most importantly we see the relational part of the passage: the wife responds to her husband to the extent (“as to”) that his character reflects the great love of Christ for the church. It’s not a game of winning and losing. It’s a choice to follow the lead of someone that you know has your best interest at heart. That’s why Paul put marriage in the context of Jesus’ sacrificial love for us. God’s character in us builds the trust to follow each other. Until we start “dying” for each other, we’re not really worth following.

These two contexts apply to life, too – parenting, the workplace, etc. I talk about that next post.

All Grace Is “Greasy Grace”

I read a really unsettling book a while back: Between Noon and Three by Episcopal Priest Robert Farrar Capon. The book explored the notion of God’s grace using two “parables”: an affair between a professor and an older student and a murder by the mob. Yeah, I know – crazy. But it works. Capon is a wonderful writer with a great sense of humor. His book reminded me of something I realized several years ago.

After I went to a weekend spiritual retreat called Tres Dias (similar to Walk to Emmaus or Cursillo), I was talking to Beth on the way home. “Grace is so dangerous,” I said. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Well, grace is given freely without strings attached. Ever. I’ve never been able to preach that simply for the reason that people may take advantage of the grace of God. The minister in me screams not to tell the congregation, simply because all leverage for moral conformity will be lost. They are free to abuse grace based on God’s design alone.” Beth said, “I don’t know what I think about that.”  “I don’t know either. But if I’m gonna teach the reality of God’s grace, I’m gonna have to come to terms with the fact that in God’s understanding, all grace is greasy grace, no matter what stipulations others may attach to it.” My supportive and loving wife told me to be careful as to the practical outworkings of such a notion, and that was the end of that.

But the truth is grace is dangerous. And there is only one type of grace: greasy. Now, you may have never heard of “greasy grace” but it’s a staple sermon illustration in the South. Greasy grace is the term to describe those people that take the grace of God and then live like the devil. People who cry out to God in distress but ignore him in times of comfort. In other words, greasy grace occurs when someone abuses the liberty that God gives us as Christians. I’m sure you can think of a hundred examples of what that may look like.

But here’s the reality of the free grace of God. For grace to truly be grace, permissive license and abuse must be an option. Otherwise it’s merely a suspension of moral law. The consequences are lifted, but only for a time – then the other shoe drops and we pay for our misdeeds. And that’s when some helpful person inevitably says, “Be sure your sins will find you out!” But let’s face it: it’s not grace until someone really gets away with it. Moralists hate that idea – it robs them of all control. Honestly though, people get away with things all the time. And the other shoe rarely drops. Instant Karma doesn’t getcha. We get away with all manner of sin, evil, and inconsiderate behavior.

I think we often mix up grace and moral law. Though we’d like for one to point to the other, they don’t. Apples and oranges, people. You see, moral law points to grace, but it can never save us. Yet, we think yelling, ranting, and preaching moral instruction will save us. Educate, educate, educate! But in the end, moral law merely points out why we need Jesus…but it doesn’t bring us to him. Grace does. Grace, not moral law, saves us.

Capon uses this illustration in his book. Grace is like the fire department. Now the building inspector (moral law) may cite you twenty times for breaking the fire code. But when your house goes up in flames, the fire department still responds every time, whether you’ve been warned or not. A fireman never walks up to a burning house and reads off  the violations to the owner. Reminding, educating, cajoling, shaming, and guilting doesn’t stop the flames. Nope…the fireman runs past the owner and puts out the fire. Rescue is his business.

The bystanders watching the burning house could easily see the rescue as permission for the owner’s unwillingness to “follow the rules.” And the homeowner could certainly take the rescue as permission to violate the fire code again. The only person who doesn’t see it that way is the fireman that put out the flames. And that’s how God is. People may take permission but the rescuer never gives it. That doesn’t stop them from abusing grace…but neither does it stop God from giving it. The risk is inherent to the gift. Though law and grace can work together, grace is always the bigger of the two. Not because we’re worth the effort but because of the matchless generosity of the Father.