Yes, Jesus Married a Prostitute

Anybody remember, a little over a year ago, the media went nuts over a documentary called "The Lost Tomb of Jesus"? Here there was claimed to be solid proof not only that Jesus died and stayed dead, but that he was married to a woman named Mary or "Mariamne".

Anybody remember, about five years ago, a guy wrote a book called The Da Vinci Code? Although the author insisted it was a work of fiction, he also claimed that all his supporting facts, documents and historical data were accurate. The secular world was giddy with the notion that Jesus was not who Christians have thought him to be, and once again, that he was married to a woman named Mary.

In retrospect, it's easy to see that neither of these "breakthroughs" ever really broke through. The lasting impact on Christology (even popular Christology) was negligible. It simply emboldened those who held alternative beliefs about Jesus, and frightened those who toed the traditional line. But that's it.

Why do people want Jesus to be married? Obviously those of us who believe the biblical account don't want this, but I have to admit that, at times, I have wished that Jesus could relate to my married experiences... my challenges and failures and successes. (Why does that make it sound like I've been married more than once? )

But those who have less of themselves invested in the biblical, historical Jesus may want him to be married for two reasons: 1) so they can thumb their nose at Catholics or Evangelicals, and 2) so they don't have to deal with the existence of such a lofty person. Their lives might be more comfortable if they could bring the zenith of humanity down a notch, and imagine him as a sexual being who satisfied his urges. He may have done it properly, through marriage, but if his bride was indeed a prostitute (as the cultural detractors are claiming,) then we can all feel a little better about ourselves.

And we traditionalists bristle at the thought. Jesus is God, after all. God can't get married! Well, he could, if he wanted to, I mean, he IS God, so I guess he can do whatever he wants. But can you imagine? God picking out a human woman for a wife? What would their children be? Some sort of demi-gods out of Greek mythology, like Hercules? And if God shows no favoritism, how could he possibly choose one woman to marry, and reject all the others?

I'm glad you asked.

Let me answer the last one first. Although Jesus did not chose an individual woman for a wife, God is actually not opposed to singling people out for his honor. Mary the mother of Jesus was the only woman out of billions to be chosen to give birth to the Son of God. John the Beloved was the only man out of billions to be Jesus' best friend. And we can see how their names reflected their chosenness. Jesus declined to choose an individual for a wife, but not because he was opposed to singling people out... it was for other reasons.

Because think about it... if the Son of God was going to have a wife, what would she be like? This is a little different from choosing a mother or a best friend. This is choosing a partner to become unified with. One flesh, in other words. And no human being is big enough to be THE unified partner of Christ. No matter whom he chose, it would be a record-scratching anti-climax.

And he most certainly can't chose multiple women. The Bible may not condemn polygamy as often, and as loudly, as we'd like, but it's pretty obvious that Jesus cannot be a polygamist.

The only bride for Jesus that would declare his divinity, that would manifest his purposes for coming to earth and fulfill the eternal symbolism that God intended for marriage, would be the Church. The Body of Christ.

And what a name to carry... the Body of Christ. We may still look forward to the wedding feast of the Lamb at the end of this age, but nevertheless Christ has already given himself to us. We are betrothed, and declared to be one flesh. "Those who stay united with me, and I with them, are the ones who bear much fruit." [John 15:5] That is why we are the Body of Christ. We are the bride... the body that Jesus chose, and now we share it with him, just as he gave his body for us.

As encouraging as all that is, we eventually come down off this epiphany, and remember the blood on our hands. We recall our fallenness, and despair at the lopsidedness of this arrangement. We are a filthy bride, wearing red and black and a muddy shade of brown.

And suddenly the reality occurs to us... Jesus really did marry a prostitute. Just like Hosea married Gomer, and loved her and bought her and called her out of herself.

So we can see that even larger than Jesus' sense of marriage, is Jesus' sense of grace. It is far wider than we can imagine, great enough to swallow up all our inadequacies and rebellion.

Then one of the elders asked me, "These in white robes--who are they, and where did they come from?" I answered, "Sir, you know." And he said, "These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, "they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent [or marital chuppa] over them. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat upon them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. [Revelation 7:13-17]

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Red Letter Ramblings

One very formidable trend that has developed with Generations X and Y (for lack of better terms) is the desire to be a "Red-Letter Christian".

For the uninitiated, many editions of the Bible print the words of Jesus in red, and the rest of the words in black.

If there are any accountants or finance-types reading this, I have a question for you: Does red ink make Jesus words look better, or worse? Seems like it might be a barrier for those who fear "the red".

Aside from purely cosmetic concerns, I believe this type of thinking can be dangerous. First, whose decision was it initially to put the words of God the Son in red, but not those of God the Father? Is it not disconcerting to anyone else to read about the baptism of Jesus and see the very voice of heaven descending in ink of black? It wouldn't bother me, except in a Red-Letter Edition.

It is a magnificent truth that Christianity is not based on a set of teachings, or on a philosophy, or on a group of people or a historical event. It is based on a person; the person of Jesus. So why shouldn't we let his words stand out?

And that's the way the thinking goes... fair enough. But there's more.

I don't see this simply as a Bible-reading trend, but as a move away from a holistic Christianity, and into one that has a too-narrow focus on the person of Jesus. This has caused many people to believe that Jesus was not so much the agent of the Father here on earth, but rather a rogue liberator attempting to rescue humanity from the wrath of a Crabby Dad. Read more about that here.

A case in point: The 4th of 10 Commandments, in Exodus, commands that we keep the Sabbath day holy, and do no work on that day. In Jesus' time, the Pharisees abused this law (like every other law) and took it to extremes. As we read Jesus' attempts to correct that abuse, we begin to think that he is rescinding the commandment itself. And whatever we read in red letters seems to trump everything else. (As an aside... my trouble with honoring the Sabbath is that I can't find where God said that the Sabbath should roll over to the first day of the week, instead of the last. Still percolating on that one...)

The problem is, this approach to the mission of Christ ignores the following red letters from John 8:28: "I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me." Does this bold assertion leave us any reason at all to lift the words of Jesus above the words of God the Father? Has anyone ever proposed putting all the words of God in red?

Because, in their red letter fervor, some people have even become suspicious of the non-gospel books. Here's my question for them: Do you believe John accurately recorded Jesus' words? Then why not read his three epistles and Revelation just as seriously? Do you believe Luke accurately recorded Jesus' words? Then why not read Acts just as seriously? And if you do, you'll see that Jesus (in red letters) appointed Paul to be an apostle. Then why not read the letters of Paul as divine scripture? And when we read the red letters themselves, we can see how Jesus honored the words of Moses and the Prophets. In our efforts to follow Jesus and be like him, should we not do the same?

We should. Otherwise we risk letting our faith run into the red.

The Zero and the One

I wrote this little allegory in 2001. Enjoy!

Once, there was a Zero. And this particular Zero had a lot of things going for him; a perfectly smooth, round shape, nice clean center, and a long life ahead of him. But unlike the other Zeros he met, he was not at all happy. Certainly he was thankful for his blessings, but he knew for sure that there was something more to life than this. He wanted, more than anything else, to be worth something.

So one day he’d had enough sulking and worthlessness, and he determined to find a way to make his life worthwhile. First he tried rolling around till he was upside down. No one even noticed. He turned around backwards. Same result. Then he thought, “Perhaps if I get enough others like me together, and we work hard and arrange ourselves just right, we can be worth something together! So he sent out an invitation calling all the Zeros he knew together in one place. To his delight, several dozen came, and they stood beside each other, on top of each other, and every which way. But alas, they found that it all came to: Nothing.

Not to be deterred, our hero the Zero decided that what was needed were some tools; some outside implements to give him value. After talking around a bit, he was able to procure a plus, a minus, a multiplier, and a divider. Then he found one of his better friends who wasn’t too turned off by the last attempt, and they went to work with his new tools. They tried Zero plus Zero. Zero. They tried Zero minus Zero. Zero. They tried Zero times Zero. You guessed it. His friend remarked, “What do you even need me for? Get all these new Zeros to help you.” But our Zero pleaded with him to at least try the last tool. He agreed, so they performed Zero divided by Zero. “Undefined?” His friend exclaimed. I’m outta here!

Disappointed, but not dejected, the Zero tried some more tricks over the next few weeks. Powers, Logorithms, Matrices… he even dabbled in some Calculus, but always with the same worthless result.

Just about to throw in the towel, the Zero took a long walk. He walked past a dumpster chock full of all his previous experiments, and it only depressed him more. “Is there no way for a Zero to be worth something?” he cried to the air. He continued walking, out of his little community and into the country, where he’d never been before. He was so sullen, he stared at the ground when he walked, and scarcely looked up. Suddenly, he bumped into something. It looked like a tree, but without branches. Just then, he felt a tremendous sense of value and purpose flow into his empty soul. It was the tree! Or whatever it was. “What are you?” the Zero asked. “I am The One,” it proclaimed with a booming voice. Follow me.

Without hesitation, The One started moving to the left, and the Zero was right behind. As they came back into town, the Zero started shouting out to his friends. “Come here, everybody! I’ve found The One! Follow Him with me!” So many of his friends came behind him. And every zero that joined multiplied the total value by ten. Before long they felt more worth than any of them had ever dreamed of. Sadly, some Zeros were too skeptical of it all to come out and join them. Others tried to walk in front of The One, but added no worth to themselves or anyone else. But those who followed were glad they did.

And so, the Zero, and his friends, found that there was value and purpose to life after all.

THE END

Untouchable

This morning Charles, one of The Core's leaders, shared about the compassionate miracles of Jesus. Here are some quotes from that, as my memory serves me.

From a theatrical monologue: "I am a leper... and I had not been touched in five years, not by my wife, my children, not even brushed by a stranger in a crowd, until today, when Jesus touched me."

"By touching the unclean he was not merely being uncouth. From a cultural perspective, he was inviting that uncleanness onto himself. He was sacrificing his social acceptability for the sake of compassion."

"When did Jesus' following begin to diminish? It was when he started talking about what was going to happen to him. At first he did miracles, because his disciples weren't ready to hear the ugly truth yet. But eventually he started leveling with them... 'There's a cross at the end of this road for me. And there's a cross for you, too.'"

The Question of Suffering

Yesterday my boss had to take the day off because he pinched his sciatic nerve. Normally he provides the office music from his iTunes, which can include anything from Johnny Cash to the Beastie Boys.

But yesterday was quiet most of the day, so eventually I decided to turn on our local NPR station, and listen to Fresh Air, one of its more popular interview programs.

Although I was only able to listen to snatches of the show, I did catch that Terry Gross was interviewing an author named Bart Ehrman, whose book is called "God's Problem". Ehrman is a former minister and fundamentalist, and his driving point was that Christianity, and religion in general, have not found a satisfactory explanation for human suffering. Here is a quote from the book:

Eventually, though, I felt compelled to leave Christianity altogether. I did not go easily. On the contrary, I left kicking and screaming, wanting desperately to hold on to the faith I had known since childhood and had come to know intimately from my teenaged years onward. But I came to a point where I could no longer believe. It's a very long story, but the short version is this: I realized that I could no longer reconcile the claims of faith with the facts of life. In particular, I could no longer explain how there can be a good and all-powerful God actively involved with this world, given the state of things. For many people who inhabit this planet, life is a cesspool of misery and suffering. I came to a point where I simply could not believe that there is a good and kindly disposed Ruler who is in charge of it.

Knowing that it would be fodder for his detractors, in the interview he specifically referenced the book of Job. He claimed that Job, rather than providing an explanation for suffering, depicts a man who questions his intense suffering, and is reprimanded for it by God himself. Job says "Why? I don't deserve this!" and God says "Be quiet. Did you create the universe?"

Ehrman tears down the traditionally positive view held of Job, and rips into his character, saying that Job, rather than accepting his suffering in faith, constantly complained and defended himself. In response, God then (in Ehrman's view) scolds Job for even asking such questions.

I disagree not only with his view of Job, but with his completely cerebral approach to suffering. Perhaps if I read the book I would feel differently. But I certainly don't want to be guilty of it myself, and fail to recognize the suffering you may be experiencing in your life, even as you read this. Life hurts, and sometimes it's torture. No amount of analysis or exegesis or debate can make a dent in that. If you're suffering right now, the second worst thing I could give you is a rational explanation. But the number one worst thing I could give you is the sense that God doesn't care, and you're not allowed to scream in his face for relief. I'll talk more about that in a minute.

So book knowledge alone just doesn't cut it... even when that book is the Bible. Sometimes it doesn't matter how many chapters or books one has memorized from the Bible, because Ehrman has far more than his share. Memorization does not guarantee absorption, and certainly not relationship.

Because when I read Job, I do not see a God who sends lightning on those who ask why. I see a God who overwhelms Job with the power and awe of God's own presence; to the point where Job might even forget about his own pain for a moment.

Solomon says that man cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. God was reminding Job that he is completely incapable of seeing the big picture, and steering him back to faith, not necessarily away from all doubt, but away from despair.

Humanity is absolutely not wrong to question its own suffering. Look at the Psalms, especially 22 and 69. Here is David, the "man after God's own heart", pounding on the chest of the Almighty, screaming out for answers. And God calls this sacred scripture--something each one of us should read and internalize. And for one reason more than any other... these passages point directly the sufferings of Jesus.

And that, more than anything I can think of, is the fulfillment of the question of suffering. Notice I don't say "the answer to the question" because modernity has convinced us to seek hard-and-fast answers where perhaps there can be none. It is my belief that, in those cases, we should instead seek fulfillment. Relationship. Then what is the fulfillment of the question of the suffering of humanity? I believe it's the suffering of Christ.

He did not promise us answers. He promised us himself. "I will be with you, even to the end of the age."

If we want anything beyond that, we do not want Jesus at all.

West Bank Choppers (and Gougers)

Things are getting a little crazy... not a good environment for avid blogging.

I'm very busy at my new job. Things are great... in fact, a little too great. I get a bonus for each hour I spend doing graphic design work for our clients. And I have so much design work to do in the next week and a half that I'm not sure if I can finish it all. It's like the nets that were so full of fish they were breaking.

And our Sunday Worship Gatherings are packing out. A similar problem, I suppose. But the whole idea of what we're doing on Sundays at the Front Porch is to have an intimate, relational, comfortable environment for people to open up and feel like they really matter to each other. But when you start running out of chairs and start feeling tempted to set them up in rows instead of around tables, the very success of the effort can be its own demise.

Last Sunday I talked about the Sermon on the Mount. I made a couple of points that I don't hear bandied about much:

1) I don't believe Jesus was "preaching" to the crowd. I believe he was retreating from the crowd, and instructing his disciples. By "disciples" I mean not just the 12, but those who had made some sort of sacrifice to follow him. I think if you read the accounts carefully in both Matthew and Luke, you will see why I believe this. But I think it's important, because it explains why the Sermon on the Mount looks more like a list of instructions, and less like an inspirational oratory.

2) I think I have an actual explanation for one of the weirdest things Jesus ever said, in Matthew 5:29, 30... "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off... if your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out... Every commentary I could find says basically that Jesus was emphasizing to us the true danger of sin, and the seriousness of avoiding that which can lead us into it. But that just sounds lame to me, like the answer of someone who doesn't really know, but has to act like they do anyway. My point is, Jesus just got finished talking about committing adultery (or murder) in the heart. He is teaching us that all sin really occurs in the heart, and what our hands or our eyes do is just an outworking of sin, or a manifestation of sin. When he talks about your right hand causing you to sin, he's referring to what he said earlier about murder, and how the sin is actually occurring in your heart, not in your hand. Same thing with the right eye, and adultery.

Jesus is mocking those (the Pharisees, primarily) who try to blame their sin on their appendages, suggesting that if they just removed those body parts, they could be free of sin. Thus he re-inforces his antidote to legalism by reminding us that sin occurs in the heart, at the deepest part of ourselves, where only God can truly judge us.

Later on that evening, after the Super Bowl, my friend Phillip (who heard my shpiel earlier that morning) asked me about my assertions on that passage. He said he believed that Jesus was also saying that we should try to avoid the things that may cause us to sin.

Although I do believe it is wise to understand what things bring temptation into your life, and to structure your life in such a way to minimize temptation (I do this myself) I cannot believe that this was even one of Jesus' points in Matthew 5:29 and 30. And this is why: Jesus takes great pains to contradict the legalism of the Pharisees, and one of the greatest Pharisaical blunders is to mandate the creation of giant hedges around the law. Meta-laws, if you will, that purport to erect an insurmountable shield to God's actual laws. This is taking the wisdom of avoiding temptation to a ridiculous extreme, that creates a tremendous burden on people who are simply trying to live their lives.

Despite this burden, the common people actually admired the Pharisees. They were it. Nobody needed to be told to try and avoid temptation... the true sin in that culture was to believe that there were humanly possible ways to be sinless and perfect, and the result was a truly insidious type of legalism, that deserved all the ridicule Jesus could muster.

I can actually image the raucous laughter that might have ensued as Jesus mimed out the cutting off of a hand, or the gouging out of an eye, as if such self-mutilation (also referenced by Paul, although of a much more... ahem... personal... variety) could actually bring about righteousness. Jesus took their error to its natural, logical conclusion, and exposed their absurdities. And he actually did it many times throughout his ministry.

Jesus would like to thank you for reading... you've been a wonderful audience. Don't forget to tip your waitresses.

This Is My Body

Us: "Why are you so judgmental? This is MY body. I can drink what I want, eat what I want, watch what I want, do what I want, say what I want, have sex with whomever I want, and deal with the consequences of that sex however I want."

Jesus: "You're right. This is your body. You have free will, and in a 'free' country you are well aware of that. But this... this is MY body. And I did exactly what I wanted with it, but not what I was tempted to do. It did not serve me, it served the world.

This is my body. It was broken and beaten for you. It was crushed and bruised and slashed for you. It was pierced and spit upon for your sake, not for mine.

This wine is my blood, and this bread is my body. Take them, and remember me. And when you're finished, get up, and follow my example.

He who has ears to hear, let him hear."

Fruits of the Flesh - Compromise

This is the fourth installment in the series "Fruits of the Flesh". Here is the original post.

The third Fruit of the Spirit is Peace. The third Fruit of the Flesh is Compromise.

I was taking a stroll around downtown Springfield a few months ago when I ran across a party of anti-war protesters on Park Central Square. I didn't want to have a debate or an argument, but I did feel like striking up some conversation.

One demonstrator held up a sign that said "War is Not the Answer". I don't remember exactly how the discussion went, but I do remember my own line of reasoning, as follows:

-War is not initiated by an aggressor. If one party invades another, and they are unchallenged, war does not result. The result is occupation.

-War is initiated when a threatened party takes up arms to defend itself.

-So War is actually the result of self-defense. However...

-If the aggressor is unchallenged, they are guilty of invasion. If they are challenged, they are guilty of starting a war. In neither case is the invaded party responsible for the consequences of violence, so long as they defend themselves honorably.

My point was, it's easy to say "War is Not the Answer", but what is the question? Is the question, "How can a nation establish true and lasting peace?" or is it "How do we avoid conflict and violence?" To get the right answer, you have to ask the right question.

The Fruits of the Flesh are not bad things in and of themselves. If that were the case, then the worldly counterpart to Peace would be War. But our society does not worship War, or even violence, by and large. Many of us seek peace, stability and justice, but when we don't care to humble ourselves, and trust Jesus, we seek out our own methods. And when attempting to achieve Peace, our most common method is Compromise.

Peace by any other means requires an incredible amount of power. If a nation believes they themselves possess enough power to achieve Peace, they will attempt to do so with threats. If their threats are ignored, they assume they could vanquish their foe quickly, and return to their state of Peace. Or take for example the Cold War. Two mighty nations were so afraid of each other that the result was and uneasy Peace.

But failing a reckless confidence in our own power, we regularly resort to Compromise to achieve Peace. You middle children know exactly what I'm talking about. You are the go-betweens, the Peace-makers. You mediate in difficult situations to make sure everybody gets along. And this is good. Like I said, all the Fruits of the Flesh are good in one way or another.

There is nothing wrong with doubting our own power. We should, in fact. But if we see Compromise as our only path to Peace, we are also doubting the power of God. If Israel believes they can achieve a peaceful relationship with the Palestinians by giving up land, they are doubting the power and promise of God. And if you, as an individual, are trying to gain Peace of mind by relying upon an exchange of favors, an appeasement of temper, and a watering down of the truth, you are also doubting the power and promise of God.

Jesus said "My Peace I give to you." Any kind of Peace we strive for, apart from that, is like a bowl of plastic fruit.

Merge - The Next Six Months

So I'm feeling pretty good about our new Sunday morning set-up... Merge Worship Gathering, 10:30 am, you know...

Last Sunday was really beautiful, I think. You should come see for yourself. It was comfortable, it was casual, but also challenging and impactful, too. Everybody got to have a say, get involved, get to know each other in an authentic way. I liked it.

Now I'd like you to know what I've got in mind for the next six months, as far as the discussions go. For now I'll just mention the framework to give you a rough idea. I'll work on the creative stuff later. Here's a few things you should know first:

-So far, Merge's definitions of a "discussion" is some people sitting in curved rows, some at tables, some at couches, at varying distances from the platform. The discussion leader sits on a stool placed on the floor somewhere toward the front of all this. This could change, and it could vary. I like it, but I hope it does change and vary. And I expect other speakers to rotate in from time to time.

-When I talk about "going through scripture" I'm not checking off chapters or verses like a to-do list. I want people to get a sense of the Grand Story of God, and simultaneously to realize that they have an important part to play in it. So scripture will be used as a springboard for real life issues, and as a measuring stick to hold us accountable. So scripture is one of those bendy rulers that are fun to wack on your desk when you're feeling ancy.

-The discussions will be a combination of asking questions, but also clear teaching. God has given us real truth to work with, just not as much as some people think. And unless we listen to those we are addressing, we're in danger of speaking to someone who's not even in the room.

NEXT SIX MONTHS: The Jesus Saga
(this is all subject to change at any time)

November - Prophecies and Pre-figurations of Jesus

November 4 - The Fall of Man, the Curse and the Promise
November 11 - The Exodus, the Angel of Death
November 18 - Melchizedek, the Pre-Incarnate Christ?
November 25 - Prophecies of Pain - Psalm 22, Isaiah 53

December - Advent

December 2 - Messianic Prophecy, Inter-testamental period
December 9 - Anticipating a Savior (Israel, Elizabeth, John in the womb)
December 16 - Mary & Joseph
December 23 - The nativity
December 30 -

January - The Early Years

January 6 - Jesus' circumcision, Simeon & Anna, Epiphany
January 13 - John the Baptist, Jesus' cousin & fore-runner
January 20 - Water into Wine, the first miracle
January 27 - Calling of the Disciples

February - The Ministry of Jesus

February 3 - Sermon on the Mount
February 10 - Two Greatest Commandments
February 17 - The Inspirational Miracles
February 24 - The Compassionate Miracles

March - The Road to the Cross

March 2 - Clearing the Temple
March 9 - Jesus and the Pharisees
March 16 - Palm Sunday - Last Supper & Good Friday
March 23 - Easter - Resurrection Day
March 30 - The Great Commission & Ascension

April - The Aftermath

April 6 - Pentecost & the Holy Spirit
April 13 - Explosive Growth
April 20 - Saul's Coversion & Contribution
April 27 - The First Century Church

A Post-Modern Righteousness

C.S. Lewis is always good for a painfully simple, yet completely overlooked insight.

If there's one thing that our culture likes to fight, it's the idea of commandments, righteousness, or thou-shalt-nots. Fortunately, I think post-modernity is starting to grow out of the idea that rules are stupid and useless, and there's no such thing as real truth. That proposition is just flat-out self-defeating (as many Christians have clumsily pointed out over the past ten years, either with some cliche question like "so there's absolutely no absolute truth?" or by stealing somebody's iPod and scolding them when they get mad.)

So by now I'd say that most people are okay with the idea that there are some good rules out there. But the thing is, they have to be reasonable. You have to be able to explain to them in very practical terms why such-and-such is forbidden, or mandatory, or whatever.

And in some ways this is an abandonment of the spirit of post-modernism. It is a concession. Not because post-modernism is essentially relativistic and mushy, but because such intense practicality, and such a mathematical approach to morality, is essentially modern, and did not really exist at all before the Enlightenment.

Some Christians would like to see post-modernism defeated, or extinct. Personally, I have a lot of hope for it. I think it has a certain latent power to re-align our cultural mindset to biblical constructs, and repair the damage done by the Modern Era. Not by itself, of course, but it is a good container for such a movement, in my humble opinion.

So what's a post-modern to do with all these rules that Christianity tries to impose on us? Do we retreat to modernity and filter out those which seem to have no practical, logical bearings? Or do we appeal to spirit, to love, to mystery, to antiquity? Take a look at this verse ...

"If you love me, you will obey what I command." -Jesus speaking in John 14:15

And this is where C.S. Lewis comes into it. In his science fiction book entitled Perelandra (which I blogged about a few weeks ago) the main character, an earthling, is talking to the female lead, who is like the plant Venus' version of Eve. She is being tempted by Satan, in the form of another earthling, to disobey God's only commandment to her. Much like in the story of Eve, this monolithic Venusian Don't does not make any real sense. There is a statutory consequence (death) but no logical consequence. And because of this, she begins to consider disobedience an option.

But the main character, in a stroke of true post-modern beauty, pleads with her to respect the commandment. He says (to paraphrase), "You have said that you love your God... and that to live in obedience to him is a joy. But what is love when it's easy? If he commanded you not to cut off your hand, you would gladly obey... but not necessarily out of love. You would obey because you clearly understand the consequences and pain that would result from disobedience. Therefore, genuine love does not occur. Perhaps God has given you this commandment as your only real opportunity to love Him. Because trust only comes into play when you don't understand things fully for yourself. And love is dormant until you make a choice that is unpleasant or illogical."

Some people do what they want because they want to do it. And I actually respect these people... at least they're honest. But so many who claim to follow Christ reveal their true motivations by shaping his words to fit their lives, and not the other way around.

Some have tried to throw off the shackles of modernity by rejecting rules entirely, and discovered the futility of such an approach. If you are one of those people, now preparing to click your shackles back in place, let me plead with you to reconsider... to make the wild, irrational move of putting actual trust in God, even when you don't see the reasons behind his requirements.

This, to me, is the heart of righteousness. Not to be show-offy or pious... but for your heart to be so broken with the love of God that you are completely at his disposal. Righteousness rings harsh to a lot of people, because the prefix "self-" has been unwittingly applied to so much of it. But I want to be the kind of righteous person that never causes the word "righteous" to arise in people's minds.

I just want people to think, "Man, he sure does love God. Apparently he really loves me, too." That's righteousness.

Perelandra and the Front Porch

I am halfway through reading C.S. Lewis' book entitled "Perelandra", the second in his renowned science fiction trilogy. My copy of the book is pretty dang old--my dad read it when he was young--which is cool. But as a consequence, I have to hold it gingerly to keep half the pages from falling out, which is annoying.

I don't feel the need here to go into a synopsis of the book, but it takes place on Venus, and one of the characters is a type of Eve. She is one of only two humans native to the planet, and the other (her husband) is missing. Just as the Lady is a type of Eve, Venus is a type of Eden, and at the beginning of the story is in an unfallen state. The Lady knows nothing about evil, but in talking to the protagonist of the story, Professor Ransom (who has been sent from earth), she begins to learn some new things. The central message of the book is stated well in the following passage:

"What you have made me see," answered the Lady, "is as plain as the sky, but I never saw it before. Yet it has happened every day. One goes into the forest to pick food and already the thought of one fruit rather than another has grown up in one's mind. Then, it may be, one finds a different fruit and not the fruit one thought of. One joy was expected and another is given. But this I had never noticed before -- that at the very moment of the finding there is in the mind a kind of thrusting back, or setting aside. The picture of the fruit you have not found is still, for a moment, before you. And if you wished -- if it were possible to wish -- you could keep it there. You could send your soul after the good you had expected, instead of turning it to the good you had got. You could refuse the real good; you could make the real fruit taste insipid by thinking of the other."

It blows me away to think about how often this happens... millions of times a day. Do you sit in a relatively good job and spoil it by fantasizing about the job you really want? Maybe the job you have is actually better. Do you have a loving spouse, and wish you could have married your high school sweetheart instead? Are you so sure you would have been happier if you had?

I think a lot about how the Pharisees were guilty of this. Their approach to the concept of Messiah was to expect a conquering king, a Pharisee of Pharisees, someone who validates them, and rewards them for their sacrifice of righteousness.

As an aside, I often wonder how many of those who actually did follow Jesus were really any better. The disciples were validated by Jesus because he picked them and not others. The sick were validated because he healed them. The children because he honored them. The women and Gentiles because he included them. I can't believe I'm saying this, but... perhaps we have been a bit hard on the Pharisees. Not because they were good, but because they were no worse than the others around them (or us, for that matter.) Everyone in Jesus' company was simply following him, or not following him, based on what was, or wasn't, in it for them. It was not until he was crucified and resurrected, and really not until Pentecost, that his followers began to be identified by what they were giving, and not what they were getting.

We have to make the same choice. Jesus may be validating you... but he won't be for long, I promise you that. He will lift you up and set your feet on a rock. He will breathe his strength and peace into you and anoint your head with oil. But there will come a point where you have been rehabilitated enough to stop taking, and start giving. And that is the point where Jesus will seem to disappear.

Then you will have the choice of the Pharisee (or perhaps Peter at his moment of denial, if you will.) "Do I take Jesus as he is? Or do I keep waiting for somebody to validate me... to be the fruit that I expected to find?"

But the choice has a different twist for you then it did for them. You don't have Jesus literally standing right in front of you, calling you a viper, or a hypocrite. You have the opportunity to craft him into your likeness with your imagination, then with your words, and then with your lifestyle. You can convince people that Jesus is something else... a wish-granting pushover, or pot-smoking hippie, or a gun-toting Republican, to name a few.

You come to that point where he seems to disappear, and then you have to clear it all away--your needs, your blessings, your expectations--remove all the clutter from your vision and ask yourself the only question that has ever mattered...

"Do I trust God?"

And when you have answered it, look again at the fruit in your hand, and the fruit in your mind.

I am not the only one who ventured into the idea of the Front Porch, and The Core, with certain expectations. Many of you who are reading this have had your own. Some of you have taken actual steps to realize those visions. Some have done nothing. And a few have asked me to do it for them.

It's easy to dream when there is no tangible reality in front of you, defying you openly. But now the Front Porch is real... and it keeps tantalizing me with the promise of other-worldly delights. You know, revolutionary ministry, authentic community, dynamic relationships, transformed lives, and night after night of packed-out events. In a word... adventure. But it also taunts me with the threat of misdirection... that it might very well become something bad, or something old and tired... or perhaps nothing at all.

Don't push away from me on this... it's your battle, too. Ask yourself if you are more in the habit of finding a Jesus who will continue to validate you, or of pouring your heart out to serve the one who really exists.

I'm just trying day in and and day out to remember that it all belongs to him... that success is his responsibility, not mine.

Thank goodness.

The Inclusive Jesus

In the process of reading through the gospels once again, this morning I came across what I believe to be one of the most intriguing scenes in the entire Bible:

"On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, 'Is it not written: 'My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it 'a den of robbers.'' The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching." -Mark 11:15-18

Now this is a man's memory verse, and I've mentioned it several times before in that capacity. Although John is less descriptive of this controversial act than Matthew, Mark and Luke, he does mention that Jesus drove them out with a whip that he made himself. That tells us two very important things:

1) Jesus was not guilty of rage, or of losing his temper. He had thought things through far enough in advance to make a whip just for this occasion. And,

2) Jesus had some mad skills.

Those two ideas were not new to me as I read the passage this morning. But in an effort to draw more out of Jesus' teachings, I have taken the advice of Ray VanderLaan, and started paying close attention to the source of Jesus' quotes. VanderLaan teaches that, when Jesus quotes the Old Testament, his true message is often not so much in the actual words he says, as in the passage he is referring to. This is not to say that Jesus is being misleading or disingenuous--every word he says is true--but that there is deeper meaning available for those who familiarize themselves with the Bible of Jesus' day. And I believe this is the case with the temple-clearing scene.

When he rebukes the temple officials, Jesus quotes two Old Testament prophets in one sentence. "My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations" comes from Isaiah chapter 56. The second part, about the den of robbers, comes from Jeremiah chapter 7.

OK, that was easy enough. All you have to do is check the footnotes to find that out. But now how about reading those two chapters? What are they really about?

One very intriguing thing about the temple-clearing passage is the emphasis on Jesus' teaching. You'd think, at a moment like this, everybody would either be cheering or jeering because of Jesus' behavior, not his words. But even in the midst of such outlandish deeds, the focus is on what Jesus is saying. Mark does not suggest that he is shouting his memory verses at the top of his lungs as he throws tables over the wall, and busts open the pigeon cages. Rather it says he is teaching the people. Likewise, when the chief priests heard this, they wanted to kill him, not for causing a ruckus, but because the people were amazed at his teaching.

Now I don't think we can conclude that the priests and teachers wanted to kill Jesus out of jealousy. As if one instructor at a school wins the educator of the year award and the others set right out to build a gallows in the teachers' lounge. It is indeed possible that Jesus' popularity and competency as a rabbi aroused the green-eyed monster among his colleagues, but it is far more likely that they wanted to kill him for what he taught than how he taught.

So what was Jesus really teaching? That the temple officials were getting a little carried away with the merchandising? That things were being run too much like a business and not enough like the house of God? Perhaps that people were getting ripped off and short-changed?

These things could all be fairly drawn from the text, and I don't think they would be wrong. But look again before you set fire to your church bookstore or tip over the soda machine. Because I believe that Jesus' heart on the matter lies in the message of Isaiah 56 and Jeremiah 7.

The Isaiah passage makes a beautiful promise to Israel's outsiders; to those who fear that their lineage will exclude them from the kingdom of God. A special comfort goes out to the eunuchs, who have been so mutilated as to never be considered among the circumcised. God essentially is telling the world, "No matter who you are, where you're from, or what your past is like, if you bind yourself to me, and keep my commands, I will hear your prayers and accept your sacrifices." What an incredible message (especially in the Old Testament!)

Now it's important to recognize that the Temple in Jerusalem had four courts: The Court of the Gentiles, and going inward from there, the Court of Women, the Court of Men, and the Holy of Holies. It is obvious that God intended people from all nations to be welcome at the Temple (even if only in the outer court,) to worship there and offer their sacrifices. But by Jesus' day, the rulers of the Temple had allowed (caused?) the Court of the Gentiles to overflow with merchants and money changers. This made it impossible for non-Jews to worship there, and sent a very strong message that they were not welcome.

So Jesus barges in and declares that the Temple was meant to be a house of prayer for all nations, not for one nation only! Israel had a sacred duty to welcome people of every stripe to God's house, and they had failed.

Not only had they failed to provide hospitality to the nations, they had traded hospitality for iniquity. A place designed to radiate the grace of God was serving instead to highlight the greed of men. Thus the Jeremiah quote about the 'den of robbers'.

And this is where we really come to understand that Jesus is not merely venting about the misuse of a worship facility, but pronouncing doom on a nation who ignores God's commands. Because in Jeremiah chapter 7 we can see very clearly God's displeasure with those who would "oppress the alien," among others (verse 7.) God commands Jeremiah to stand at the gate of the temple, and announce that God is giving his people one last chance to reject false gods and serve him only, to treat people with love and grace and hospitality, and he will continue to accept their offerings and allow them to live in the Promised Land.

But if they do not--and Jesus was making it very clear that they had not--then God would no longer accept their sacrifices. In fact, God told them they might as well keep their sacrifices to themselves, because he was about to destroy the temple and scatter them from their homeland.

When Jesus referenced Jeremiah 7 (and when he said other things about the Temple, like "not one stone will be left on another") , he was making it very plain that Israel had had her chance, and she blew it. No wonder the chief priests and teachers of the law were fuming.

But right there, in the midst of a proclamation of doom, Jesus was making a promise of redemption. All the people were amazed at his teaching, because they were sick of being excluded. What a thought, that God would welcome everyone into his presence! What a thought, for you and I, that God is calling us to stop holding the "undesirables" at arm's length, and start truly showing them the love of Christ! Over and over we see it: Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman or the Roman general, Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch, Peter seeing the vision of unclean foods, James inspiring us to honor the poor, or Paul dedicating his life's ministry to the Gentiles. What a grand theme of Jesus' life... to subvert the natural order, to exalt the humble and humiliate the self-exalted!

Despite the grand message, you might have concluded that Jesus didn't go far enough in his purging. Yes, he fought to give back the Court of the Gentiles, but what about all the separation? Why should the Gentiles be considered less than the Jews, and the women be denied privileges reserved for men?

During his life, you'd be right. Jesus did stop short. But when he was crucified, all that he'd been saying came to an explosive climax. Because at that moment, the curtain in the temple, designed by God to keep virtually all people separated from his presence, was ripped in two from top to bottom. Now, not only are Gentiles welcome among the Jews, but each and every person who trusts in Jesus is granted access to the heart of God!

Paul said it best in Galatians 3:28. "There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

Amen.

Let Jesus be Jesus to you

I was reading Scot McKnight's blog, Jesus Creed, and I think he said something really beautiful for those who spend a lot of time in ministry. I'm going to put it in my own words.

Those of us in the ministry tend to always think of ourselves as having a responsibility to be Jesus to others. And really, that's true.

But don't forget to take time to let Jesus be Jesus to you. Or even to let others be Jesus to you.

Next time you're reading a story of Jesus' healing or teaching or compassion, instead of identifying with Jesus, identify with those receiving his ministry. Instead of being the healer, be the healed. Instead of being the redeemer, be the redeemed.

Mark Driscoll, founding pastor of Mars Hill Church, has also taken it upon himself to stem the tide of burnt-out ministers. It's worth a look.

God the Father, God the Son

There is a reason why so many preachers focus so heavily on the New Testament. It's the same reason that people publish pocket New Testaments, but decide to throw Psalms and Poverbs in for good measure.

I understand those little things are designed to be compact, but they still bother me a little. Sure, when you're talking about scripture you can pick out whatever verse or chapter suits your topic, without quoting the entire thing. But to print and bind a book called the Bible, while leaving out the "less important" half just seems a little, I don't know... haughty.

But it's not just that it's deemed less important. It's a real stumbling block, both for unbelievers and seasoned Christians... even preachers. And that's why they tend to avoid a lot of it. Sure, it has a lot of great stories, and those are easy to pick out and use at one's convenience, but even then you have to gloss over some gory details. Noah's Ark seems like a happy little story until you realize that it involves the violent destruction of more people (and animals) than all the most gratuitous Hollywood action movies ever made. Read some other examples here.

So it is nothing new to Christianity to have a tenuous relationship with the Old Testament, and to have our doubts about the God presented in it.

The result for many has been to see Jesus as the rebellious hero... a sort of Robin Hood figure. He noticed his dad was behaving pretty harshly, so he snuck out of his room in the middle of the night, climbed down the tree and incarnated himself into a human before papa could notice his absence. Then he systematically revised God's moral code, gave him a P.R. makeover, and died so that people would actually have a shot at appeasing an otherwise impervious deity. In other words, Jesus double-crossed his Father, to our great benefit.

I can understand why people would want to believe this. But it's not hard to see how incompatible it is with the most well-known verse in the Bible: "For GOD so LOVED the WORLD that he GAVE his only-begotten Son..." That doesn't sound like Jesus sneaking out the window to me.

Yesterday was, as you know, Father's Day. And I took the opportunity to think about our relationship to God as our Father, and about some of the words we use to describe that relationship. Fear, for example.

Think about what a "good father" really is. It's not the same as a "cool dad", is it? Not to say that a good father can't be cool from time to time, but the two concepts are certainly not synonymous. A good father does what is best for his children, whether or not they find it pleasant. And a good father will even, in a way, be feared by his children. He will never inspire terror, but shouldn't a child have to think twice before disobeying out of fear of angering his father? One step further... shouldn't a child possibly even fear that his father will require him to do something unpleasant, or move the family to another city, where their lives will be uprooted?

There is a fine line between healthy and unhealty fear. If the child is afraid to approach his father, or losing sleep worrying about what he will do, that is over the line. The fear should be just enough for the child to realize, "Wow... my dad is in control of my life. He can do whatever he wants with me. But you know... he loves me, and I trust him. Even if he causes me pain, I know it's for my good." (Assuming the child is mature enough to really grasp this. Most adults aren't even there yet.)

Although you can't put a price on a love like this, it is not the fullness of love that we need as humans. We also need tenderness and compassion. We need someone to come alongside us in love, in addition to one who condescends in love. A good father recognizes this, and (using the father-daughter example) will do his best to make sure his daughter marries a good man, who can give her the other half of love, that cannot come from a father. In older cultures, the father would literally give his daughter a husband.

When I started to think this way, it made much more sense to me how God the Father and God the Son truly are compatible. The Father loves us in a fatherly way... a way that can inspire fear, reverence and awe. And the Son, our bridegroom, loves us in a husbandly way... on our own level, having been born as a man, he loves us firmly, yet gently.

And I believe we misunderstand God entirely unless we can see the broad smile and happy tears on his face as walks us down the aisle, and gives us away to his only Son, our bridegroom.

You Wanna See a Butterfly?

Here... I've got one smashed in this book somewhere... aha! Here it is! A pipevine swallowtail... very rare. Yes, I realize the colors are a little dull... it is dead after all. But this way you can look closely at it... study it. You can turn it over in your fingers and catalog its parts and know everything you need to know about a butterfly, with none of that silly running around in a meadow to worry about!

You wanna see Jesus?

Hmm... oh yes! Here's a tract.

100% Human

Whether or not you believe it, you've probably heard about Jesus being fully man, and fully God. Also that he was perfect and sinless.

When we imagine a man like this, I think a lot of us tend to see him as a little bit dull. Sure, he healed people, and drew huge crowds and walked on water and shocked the establishment and drove the crooks out of the temple with a home-made whip. But perfect??? How drab.

I imagine we think this way because we tend to see our foibles, our idiosyncrasies, and, yes, our sins, as the source of our colorfulness. We laugh at each other's stumbles, and in our better moments, we laugh at our own. So how could there be anything funny or interesting about the perfect man?

It's definitely a good thing to celebrate our differences, and come to terms with our faults. But if we take one glance at the word "holiness" and fall asleep, we've probably got some re-orientating to do. Yes! I'll re-orientate myself to holiness! But then I look at all the people who seem obsessed with the H word, and decide I'm not interested in becoming a fellow borg... a mindless conformist, stripped of my individuality and color.

I believe Jesus, in addition to being fully God, was the most human human who ever lived. He was, truly, 100% human. By comparison, I'd say I've never topped 40%, if that. All the things that people are supposed to be, he was (and is.)

So ok, we've established that we're supposed to be "Christ-like". So what? So now we have to break out of that mind-prison that tells us that the result of a whole kingdom of people who are very much like their king, is monotony.

Did Jesus have a personality? Yes. Did he have a unique individuality and creativity? Yes. Otherwise he would have been less than human. Is he calling us to adopt those traits of his, consequently surrendering our own individualities? NO.

To follow Christ, to be found in him, and to become like him, is to simultaneously become your best self--the self that God made you to be. Rather than a church full of a combination of conformists and rebels, I think God envisions a stunningly vibrant and diverse body of fascinating individuals, all bound together for a common purpose.

Because it is not our faults that make us who we are, it is our gifts.

Freedom Isn't Free...dom?

I can't believe I'm actually going to write a post complaining about the ultra-obnoxious 1990s WWJD hysteria.

But I ran across a published statement by a minister recently that brought it up again in my throat like so much, well... you know. The assertion went like this: "The freedom you enjoy is encased in the Person of Jesus. Whatever He would do in a situation, is what you have the freedom to do. Yes, He associated with sinners, but did not become like them."

That second sentence helps us to understand his main point, which is that we have to be careful with the whole freedom shtick, because people might run off and do whatever they want. True... Jesus did not sin like the sinners. But that does not mean he didn't join them in their non-sinful activities, right?

I think all this brings up a very interesting hypothetical scenario. What if Jesus really were "in my shoes?" (The "in my shoes" part is important, because that is part of the original question in Charles Sheldon's classic book "In His Steps". But I guess WWJDIMS? is not as catchy.) What if Jesus were writing The Core Blog, or pastoring The Core, or married to my wife, or working at the Bellwether instead of me? Let's call him Jesus of Bartlesville (my childhood hometown.)

If this were the case, that means Jesus grew up in a normalish midwestern Christian family, cares more about creative and intellectual pursuits more than athletic or business pursuits, enjoys analyzing things to death, and chews his nails... sometimes. Naturally, he would do things differently if he were Jesus of Bartlesville, than he actually did as Jesus of Nazareth.

But how different? Would he still become a carpenter? Probably not... because my dad is not a carpenter (at least not a serious one.) Would he still speak Aramaic? Doubtful. Would he still walk everywhere he went? Possibly. Would he still have long hair, a thick beard, and wear a blue sash over a white tunic? Um... moving on.

But that's not even the most interesting part of the scenario. Not only do I have no way to know what Jesus would do in my shoes, I don't know how many different things he might do. Of course each human being can only respond one way to each situation he or she encounters. We don't get "do-overs" or alternate universes to play out every option.

So Jesus of Nazareth handled each situation in exactly one way. But how many ways could he have handled them that might have still been consistent with his character and purpose? Might he just as easily have said to the Gentile woman asking for healing, "I know you are a Gentile, but I sense that you have faith, so be healed!" instead of the bit about giving the children's bread to the dogs?

My point is... the one-dimensional perspective of freedom stated at the outset is very constricting. In essence, it is not freedom at all. Back when the Ford Model-T was the thing, people used to say, "You can get it in any color you want... as long as you want black." This is the concept of "freedom" held by millions of Christians, and I believe it has caused them a great deal of anguish as they struggle to figure out the precise will of God. I write in depth about this in my post "OK God, this is the part where you tell me what I'm supposed to do".

The fact is, we can't assume that God has only one right answer for every problem (just some problems.) Furthermore, we don't know what Jesus would do in our shoes. If it helps you to think about Jesus as you go about your life, that's great... I think that would be good for all of us. But perhaps we should replace WWJD with two much wiser questions:

1) WDJD: What did Jesus do? - If we're going to live Christ-centered lives, we have to pay attention to what he did do... and what is doing in the present, and will do in the future.

2) WITHSTMTD: What is the Holy Spirit telling me to do? - This takes two forms: understanding God's requirements of all people as stated in his Word, and maintaining an intimate relationship with him, so that you can hear his voice clearly, IMHO.

I guess I've made my point... while drinking a lot of water... better visit the WC.

BFN
TTYL
ROFLMAO
OK

Atheists For Jesus

There it is in black-on-white: Atheists for Jesus. So, of course, it's a joke, right? Probably one of those snarky shirts they sell at Spencer Gifts or something.

Except that the man wearing the shirt is no joker. His name is Richard Dawkins, one of the most formidable atheist apologists of modern times. And this is the picture from a serious article he wrote entitled "Atheists For Jesus."

Although it is a very interesting read, most of it is not about how an atheist can be "for" Jesus. Most of it is about the nastiness of a Darwinian world, and the social ills that inevitably follow from such a theory. Dawkins is seeking a "nicer" society, and is literally willing to look anywhere. If you're short on time, or like to save your really deep thinking for trying to remember where you left your keys, I'll cut to the chase.

[Spoiler warning] At the end of the article, Dawkins says, "...perhaps the oxymoronic impact of 'Atheists for Jesus' might be just what is needed to kick start the [cultural trend] of super niceness in a post-Christian society. If we play our cards right - could we lead society away from the nether regions of its Darwinian origins into kinder and more compassionate uplands of post-singularity enlightenment? I think a reborn Jesus would wear the T-shirt. It has become a commonplace that, were he to return today, he would be appalled at what is being done in his name, by Christians ranging from the Catholic Church to the fundamentalist Religious Right. Less obviously but still plausibly, in the light of modern scientific knowledge I think he would see through supernaturalist obscurantism. But of course, modesty would compel him to turn his T-shirt around: Jesus for Atheists.

Before I address Dawkins' central point, I would like to loiter on that last phrase a moment. "Jesus for Atheists". It stings the ears of cultural Christianity, and comes off just as false as the inverse. Although we have no way of knowing what sort of t-shirt Jesus would wear, or what slogan he would adopt (if any,) I think I can see some truth in this. Jesus was "for" all types of people that he didn't agree with, and whose lifestyles he didn't endorse. It's like the corny people who say, "Whether or not you believe in God, God believes in you." I don't think anybody is claiming that Atheists are Jesus' favorite people, but it is not hard to imagine that he would treat them much like he treated the tax collectors of his own day. (Jesus had a way of doing the most good for the people who could do the least good for him... and knew it.)

Dawkins is expressing an admiration for Jesus which often rubs Christians the wrong way, for two reasons. One, "How can the same man say such good things about our Savior, and such bad things about us, his followers? Since we are striving to be like Jesus, you must lump Jesus together with us, for good or for ill." And Two, "How can anybody show respect for a man who claims to be God and requires everyone to relate to him as such, unless he or she believes that claim to be true?"

And this is where I'm going to duck out of my promise to address Dawkins' central point. Because the natural thing to do here, as a God-fearing Christian blogger, would be to bring in the secret weapon: the THREE L's.

Skeptics beware! Because if you rile us so much as to express an admiration for our Lord and Savior, we will corner you into a moment of decision! Liar, Lunatic or Lord... pick one! Logically, these are your only choices!

For the record, and for all you C.S. Lewis fans, I believe this is true. But is this really our best move? Is there nothing positive about a culture that, overall, has a good impression of Jesus? Is this not a priceless opportunity to re-evaulate the places that centuries of Christendom have taken us, and ask ourselves if we are really imitating Christ? Ask yourself: Do we take after his post-Pentecost disciples, or do we more closely resemble the Pharisees and Judaizers?

Naturally, we are not called to live for anyone's pleasure but God's. Since no one has a perfect concept of Jesus, we cannot expect anyone to be perfectly pleased with our impersonations of him (especially since our attempts are so imperfect.) But people like Dawkins have ascertained correctly that Jesus was not "for" the Spanish Inquisitionists, or the Medieval Crusaders. Neither is he "for" the modern-day legalists or guilt-mongers.

As a Christ-follower myself, I can relate to the rhetorical reflex that comes with hearing an atheist speak glowingly of Jesus. But what do you say we avoid the asinine alliterations for a change? In fact, let's axe the acrostics and get rid of the rhymes while we're at it. We want to win every conversation so badly, and with memorable methods, that we compromise on correct communication, which undermines our understanding.

See how ridiculous we can sound? Maybe it's time we start getting real with each other, and stop making assonances of ourselves.

No More Sissy Jesus

It looks like Christianity is playing a new game of “He Said, She Said.”

She said, “Jesus is our bridegroom, and we’re his bride. And that’s great, because he’s kind and gentle and forgiving, and he wants us to worship him with pretty music and poetry and floral arrangements all over the place.”

He said, “Jesus is a masculine dude… he was a carpenter and rebel. He was always stickin’ it to the man. You know, calling the Phrisees vipers and battling Satan and driving the crooks out of the Temple with a whip he made himself. He wants us to worship him with rock music and shouting and gut-level honesty and risk-taking and bending metal.”

Literally.

Good Morning America this morning featured an organization called “GodMen”, that wants to give the Christian faith a shot in the arm… the big, muscle-bound arm. And it turns out that muscles are a very important aspect to this brand of faith, because some participants actually get the opportunity to bend frying pans.

GodMen’s founder Brad Stine says the point is to “toughen up Christian men.”

Here’s the problem, as they see it: apparently only 4 out of 10 church-goers is male (and it’s not unlikely that 1 of those 4 was dragged there by his wife.) Some men have looked around at the total package experience of Church, and found the reason was obvious. Everything seems tailored to appeal to women: the music, the décor… Even the target virtues (grace, love, peace, etc) have a feminine slant.

They’ve got a point. But if you think you know where I’m going with this… hold on.

Stine says, “There’s nuances to Christianity; there’s elements that we haven’t been taught as men because we’re different from women. So when we walk into a church, we don’t see metal, we see ferns. We’re not used to that. We want something that shows the masculine side as well. We’re not trying to take over. We love the feminine side, but we think there should be a balance so that both sides are represented.”

So I’ve gotta ask… Is the Church a democratic republic? Is the goal to evenly represent the characteristics and personalities of its members?

We have no excuse in this day and age to ignore the role that culture plays in our spiritual development. Because we are “in the world” we can never get away from that influence. And if you’re a man, you may indeed be feeling somewhat left out of the equation… much like a Spanish speaker in an English-language service. “Is anyone here trying to relate to me?”

But at the end of the day, these “GodMen” need to recognize that God is not a man. Nor is he a woman. God transcends masculinity and femininity... and it’s a good thing, too. Because our gender, our language, our nationality, our personality... these things are just launchpads from which we embark our spiritual journey. And although we will never fully escape them during our lifetimes, we are foolish to strap ourselves down.

Kudos to these guys for keeping it real, and for driving the message home in a fresh and relevant way. But when they go back to their home congregations, let’s hope they take with them far more than a penchant for gender equity. Let’s hope we can all learn to die to ourselves, and be found alive in Christ.

The Sound of the Underground

UPDATE: T