Time to Get “Radical?”

Having just received a copy of David Platt’s Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream, I am already anticipating that it will make my top-10 books of 2012.  Here, are the opening few pages for your consideration.  If they capture your imagination, be sure to purchase the book.  It only gets better.

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“The youngest megachurch pastor in history.”

While I would dispute that claim, it was nonetheless the label given to me when I went to pastor a large, thriving church in the Deep South — the Church at Brook Hills in Birmingham, Alabama.  From the first day I was immersed in strategies for making the church bigger and better.  Authors I respect greatly would make statements such as “Decide how big you want your church to be and go for it, whether that’s five, ten, or twenty thousand members.”  Soon my name was near the top of the list of pastors of the fastest-growing U.S. churches.  There I was … living out the American church dream.

But I found myself becoming uneasy.  For one thing, my model in ministry is a guy who spent the majority of his ministry time with twelve men.  A guy who, when he left this earth, had only about 120 people who were actually sticking around and doing what he told them to do.  More like a minichurch, really.  Jesus Christ – the youngest minichurch pastor in history.

So how was I to reconcile the fact that I was now pastoring thousands of people with the fact that my greatest example in ministry was known for turning away thousands of people?  Whenever the crowd got big, he’d say something such as “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.”  Not exactly the sharpest church-growth tactic.  I can almost picture the looks on the disciples’ faces.  “No, not the drink-my-blood speech!  We’ll never get on the list of the fastest growing movements if you keep asking them to eat you.”

By the end of that speech, all the crowds had left, and only twelve men remained.  Jesus apparently wasn’t interested in marketing himself to the masses.  His invitations to potential followers were clearly more costly than the crowds were ready to accept and he seemed to be okay with that.  He focused instead on the few who believed him when he said radical things.  And through their radical obedience to him, he turned the course of history in a new direction.

Soon I realized I was on a collision course with an American church culture where success is defined by bigger crowds, bigger budgets, and bigger buildings.  I was now confronted with a startling reality: Jesus actually spurned the things that my church culture said were the most important.  So what was I to do?  I found myself faced with two big questions.

The first was simple.  Was I going to believe Jesus?  Was I going to embrace Jesus even though he said radical things that drove the crowds away?

The second question was more challenging.  Was I going to obey Jesus?  My biggest fear, even now, is that I will hear Jesus’ words and walk away, content to settle for less than radical obedience to him.  In other words, my biggest fear is that I will do exactly what most people did when they encountered Jesus in the first century.

That’s why I’ve written this book.  I am on a journey.  But I am convinced it is not just a journey for pastors.  I am convinced these questions are critical for the larger community of faith in our country today.  I am convinced that we as Christ followers in American churches have embraced values and ideas that are not only unbiblical, but that actually contradict the gospel we claim to believe.  And I am convinced we have a choice.

You and I can choose to continue with business as usual in the Christian life and in the church as a whole, enjoying success based on the standards defined by the culture around us.  Or we can take an honest look at the Jesus of the Bible and dare to ask what the consequences might be if we really believed him and really obeyed him.

I invite you to join the journey with me.  I do not claim to have all the answers.  If anything, I have more questions than answers.  But if Jesus is who he said he is, and if his promises are as rewarding as the Bible claims they are, then we may discover that satisfaction in our lives and success in the church are not found in what our culture deems most important but in radical abandonment to Jesus.

 

Lessons from a Dying Pastor

This is the story of Ed Dobson – the story of a dying man.  In 2001, Ed was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), and was given 2-5 years to live.[1]  But this is not what makes Ed’s story so fascinating and so worthy of our time.  You see, Ed is a Christian whose life has taken him down a path that few within our society are willing to travel – a path that ultimately puts him at odds with political activists on both the left and the right.

Born in Northern Ireland in 1949, Ed Dobson immigrated to the United States in 1964.  By the age of 23, he had earned his Masters Degree from Bob Jones University, and had taken his first post as the Dean of Men at Jerry Falwell’s Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.  Just seven years later, in 1979, Ed joined the Board of Directors for Falwell’s newly organized Moral Majority.  In the hopes of combating the moral decline of American culture, Falwell, Dobson and others eschewed the traditional Baptist practice of separating faith and politics; and instead sought to build a grassroots network that would lobby for a “pro-family” agenda in America.

But by the late 1980s, Ed Dobson had come to realize that Falwell’s vision of a fundamentalist “Christian Nation” was one that he could no longer embrace.  While his convictions regarding Jesus and the Scriptures remained rock solid, he came to believe that the cultural problems of the late 20^th century were not problems that could be remedied through political activism.  So, in 1987, Ed left Liberty University and the Moral Majority, and became the Senior Pastor of Calvary Church[2] in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  For the next 18 years, he labored to build into this congregation, before eventually resigning when the rigors of his illness became too great to bear.

Now, in the Twilight of his life, Ed Dobson has undertaken a new venture.  No longer able to minister in the ways that he once did, he has released a series of short films, in which he ruminates on the lessons he has learned as a follower of Christ.    These are not lessons about building grassroots organizations, nor are they lessons about ministering in the context of a megachurch.  Instead, Ed is taking us on a journey to the doorsteps of death, bravely offering insights about what it means to live as a Christian at the end of a long and unexpected journey.

Today, I’d like to challenge you to sit down for 10 minutes with Ed Dobson.  Listen to what he has to say.  And if, by the end, you find yourself longing to hear more, you can follow this link,which will lead to you to Flannel.org.  There, you can purchase all five “shorts” for just $7.99.

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[1] Amyotrophic lateral scleosis (ALS), or Lou Gehrig’s disease, is a motor neuron disease.  In the simplest of terms, it is a disease in which the spinal cord begins to deteriorate, which in turn leads to weakness, muscle atrophy, and spasticity.  Generally speaking, most patients die of respiratory compromise and/or pneumonia within 2-3 years of the initial diagnosis.

[2] It may be of interest to the reader to know that Calvary Church is the church responsible for planting Rob Bell and Mars Hill.

 

Top Ten Books I Read in 2011

Every year, I read dozens of books – some great, some not so great.  But here for your pleasure are the top ten books I read in 2011.  If you’re wondering what’s on it, well, there’s everything from crime thrillers and fantasy to biographies and theology.  In other words, if you like to read (and read widely) there’s probably something here just for you.  Enjoy!

1. Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Prophet, Martyr, Spy by Eric Metaxas – This is, hands down, one of the finest biographies I have ever had the pleasure to read.  Weighing in at 624 pages, it moves at a breakneck pace, at times reading more like a spy novel than a biography.  If you appreciate books on history and Christian living, this is undoubtedly the book for you.  Simply brilliant.

2. Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand – I have a soft spot for “survival” stories that document the will of the human heart.  This true-to-life account of a troubled boy turned Olympic hopeful turned prisoner of a Japanese interment camp was as heart wrenching as it was triumphant. Truly a testament to the power of the human will.

3. Simply Jesus by N.T. Wright – There are two categories of N.T. Wright books: academic works that can be used to lay the foundation of small homes, and his more popular lay works that are accessible to all.  In the latter category, this is the finest book he has written to date, besting his own Scripture and the Authority of God: How to Read Scripture Today.

4. Glimpses of Grace by Madeleine L’Engle – I picked this book up on a whim after spending two minutes flipping through a friend’s copy.  How glad I am.  L’Engle’s daily insights are never short of profound; and I would suggest that this book is every bit as worthwhile as the classic devotional, My Utmost for His Highest.

 

5. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson – While I was tempted to put Larsson’s entire Millennium Trilogy on this list, I refrained from doing so only because this book still stands head-and-shoulders above both The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest.  If you like gripping crime thrillers with unusually, nuanced lead-characters, this is the book for you.

6. Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer – Having finished Metaxas’ biography on Bonhoeffer, I was eager to jump into some of Bonhoeffer’s own work.  While I will never claim that his work leaves one “comfortable,” it was an absolute joy to witness a true shepherd walking through the fields of costly discipleship in a time when true discipleship really did cost everything.

7. Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy – Every once in a while, you encounter a piece of fiction with a villain so memorable, it leaves a permanent mark upon your psyche.  This book introduces you to a man by the name of Judge Holden.  He makes Darth Vader and Voldemort both look like tame little kittens just waiting to be played with.

8. Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Goodwin – In an era in which we were promised a different kind of Presidency, I found that I still had to look to the past to find a leader that knew how to cross the aisle.  I have read no better volume on the art of political compromise and leadership.

9. A Game of Thrones by Martin Wallace – Shortly after HBO began to advertise its series based upon this book, I ran across an article, which compared Wallace’s work to that of J.R.R. Tolkien.  While I’m not sure that he truly is the “American Tolkien,” as the article suggested, this is by far and away the best piece of fantasy literature I have read in many, many years.

10. Player One by Douglas Coupland – In a few years, I suspect I will regret adding this book to the list, because in the Coupland canon, Player One is not in the top five works.  Nevertheless, it was a return to form after several recent efforts that had squandered his prodigious talents.  And thus, I include it perhaps for no other reason than to turn you on to the earlier works of this fine, Canadian writer of both fiction and non-fiction alike.

Finally, an Honorable Mention for Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology by John Walton.  While there is no doubt that this is an excellent work that builds upon Walton’s more popular The Lost World of Genesis One, it was not the knock-out punch that I expected from the world-class scholar that taught me how to be a true student.   Perhaps it suffers only from my overly high expectations.  Nevertheless, I expect this to take it’s rightful place amongst the very best works that are attempting to address the interface between science and theology.

What about you?  What did you read in 2011 that you’d want to share with others?  How about a top ten list?  Up for the challenge?  Believe me, it’s trickier than you think. 

 

A “Bastard” in a Fatherless Age … (part 2)

Yesterday afternoon, I introduced you to the world of the half-breed Timothy, bastard son of the Jewish disciple, Eunice, who herself was seen as a prostitute by the community around her.  It was an ugly world to be sure; and if you haven’t taken the time to read about it, I would highly suggest that you do so now before continuing forward with this discussion.

A “Bastard” in a Fatherless Age … (part 1)

Today, I want to continue forward in our exploration of the remarkable life of Timothy because I believe that there are staggeringly beautiful gems to mine down in the deep shafts of “incidental words.”  So why don’t we start by talking about the age of Timothy.  Read with me the words of the Apostle Paul found in 1 Timothy 4:12:

“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but be an example to the believers in what you say, how you behave, in love, faith and holiness.”

The word I want to focus upon here is the word “young” (from the Greek word: neotes).  From the use of this word, we can rightfully conclude that Timothy, at the time of this letter, is somewhere between the age of 25 to 33.[1]  But there’s more to this puzzle.  Notice how Paul is advising Timothy not to allow anyone to look down upon him because of his youth.  Why is he doing that?  Well the answer is really rather simple.  In Jewish culture, men were not allowed to take leadership positions until the age of 30.[2]  So in all probability, Timothy is actually younger than 30 at the time of this writing, which explains Paul’s warning to him.

This is the Lytra Tell located in the modern state of Turkey.

Now the pieces are beginning to fall into place.  From history, we know that the First Epistle to Timothy was written sometime between 65 and 66 AD.  We also know, from history, that Paul’s second missionary journey (when he first found Timothy) began in 49 AD.  So if Timothy was under the age of 30 at the time when Paul advises him not to allow anyone to look down upon him for his youth, then we can rightfully conclude that Timothy was roughly 10 to 12 years old when Paul first encounters him in the small, out-of-the-way town known as Lystra.

Don’t gloss over that.  Timothy was 10-12 years old when Paul first looked at him and said: “In the Messiah, there is neither Greek nor Jew, Timothy.  Everyone is equal.  All the social layers and the hatred that this world constructs … it means nothing in Jesus, Tim.  Nothing!”

To me, this is utterly fascinating.  A few days ago, I walked you through the ages of the disciples chosen by Jesus and we concluded that all of them, with the exception of Peter, were under the age of 20.  Now, when it comes time for Paul to chose his disciples, he continues the tradition of his day and the tradition of Jesus; and he selects another “kid.”

Why is it that when it came time for the Kingdom of God to be announced throughout the ancient world, Jesus the Messiah and the Apostle Paul chose “children?”  And why is that much of our youth ministry is centered around keeping our “kids” safe and making sure that they are thoroughly entertained and not bored?

Somewhere along the way, there has been a radical disconnect between the potential that Jesus and Paul saw in “children” versus the immaturity that we see and foster through a prolonged adolescence that we currently extend into the late 20s.  Is it time for us to be begin to respect the capabilities of our “kids” by challenging them with deep, insightful teaching that actually equips them to become true disciples in this world?  Is it time for us to give them the best of our teachers as opposed to giving them the newly-minted seminary grads that are merely putting in time before they can become senior pastors themselves?  Is it time for a sea-change in how we do youth ministry?

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[1] The Greek word neotes merely suggests youth.  But, the word is also used by Luke in his account of the “Rich Young Ruler.”  When we look at the parallel account of the “Rich Young Ruler” found in Matthew’s Gospel, we see that Matthew uses another word to describe the age of the ruler: neaniskos.  This word is a bit more specific, and it actually suggests a man anywhere from his mid-20s to his early 30s.

[2] The Code of Jewish Law (O.C. 581:1) instructs Jewish gatherings to look for certain qualities in those that would lead the services on the High Holidays.  Amongst these qualities is a minimum age of 30 because, as the Mishna Brura explains, a 30-year old is humble, soft-hearted, and capable of actually “praying from the heart.”

 

A “Bastard” in a Fatherless Age … (Part 1)

Today, I want to continue our discussion of youth and ministry by looking at a seemingly harmless little passage at the beginning of Acts 16.  Read with me for a moment:

“[Paul] also came to Derbe and to Lystra.  A disciple named Timothy was there, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer, but whose father was a Greek.  The brothers in Lystra and Iconium spoke well of him. Paul wanted Timothy to accompany him, and he took him and circumcised him because of the Jews who were in those places, for they all knew that his father was Greek.  As they went through the towns,they passed on the decrees that had been decided on by the apostles and elders in Jerusalem for the Gentile believers to obey.  So the churches were being strengthened in the faith and were increasing in number every day.”

Now, are you ready for the story behind the story?  Here’s how it works.  When you and I read this account, we see some odd biographical details that don’t mean a whole lot to us.  We know that Timothy is part Greek, so we know that he has not been circumcised and we know that Paul, for reasons we will not discuss today, needs for him to be circumcised.  We also know that after this, Paul travels around with Timothy, and that the churches are growing stronger every day.  And that’s as far as most of us in the 21^st century get because we don’t understand the ancient Jewish culture.

So today, I’m going to unpack a bit of that ancient culture for you; and to make sure that I have your complete and total attention, I’m going to put this in words that you understand.  Assume for a moment that you are an African American kid.  How would you feel if I said to you:

“Your Mama’s nothing but a two-bit whore!  And you – you’re nothing but a nigger! Now get out of here, you little bastard!”

Offended yet?  Good!  You should be!  “Nigger” is an offensive word.  It’s a word that is filled with hate!  It’s a word that should have no place in our culture.  It’s a word that spits on the “image of God” that is placed in hundreds of millions of people around the globe.  Now how about someone calling your mama a “whore?”  Are you comfortable with that?  How about being called a “bastard?”  How does that feel?  How does that sit with you?

You see, in order to really understand what is happening at the beginning of Acts, you need to understand what the author is saying when he tells you that Timothy’s mother was a Jew and that his father was a Greek.  In the ancient world, this means that Timothy is a mamzer (From the Hebrew word: ממזר‎).[1]  But what does that mean?  If I had tried to explain the meaning of that word using “clean” English, it would have meant nothing to you.  But when I tell you that this word mamzer has all the power of the hatred that filled my example above, you can begin to truly understand the remarkable nature of this passage.

So what did it mean for Timothy to live as a mamzer in his society?  Well, for starters, it meant that everyone around him viewed his mother as a prostitute.[2]  It meant that every one around him saw him as “defective,” “corrupted,” and “spoiled” by “strange, alien” DNA.[3]  He was a half-breed in a society that lamented half-breeds; and he was a bastard child with no legitimate father willing to call him his own.  In a world where the Jews were wrestling with what it meant to be “outsiders” themselves, Timothy was the ultimate “outsider.”

• Unlike other Jewish children, Timothy wasn’t circumcised on the eighth day of his life because he really wasn’t part of the community.  (Genesis 17:12)

• Unlike other Jewish children, Timothy wasn’t allowed to go to the Tabernacle or the Temple because mamzers were forbidden.   (Deuteronomy 23:2)

• Unlike other Jewish children, Timothy was cut off from his people because his mother’s failure had left him on the outside of the covenant.  (Genesis 17:14)

• And lest Timothy think that things would somehow get better for his children, he lived with the knowledge that this status would be passed on to his children for 10 generations to follow.  (Deuteronomy 23:2)

Yes … Timothy was the ultimate outsider, reviled by a religious community whose leadership had called down curses upon those who were inter-marrying and giving birth to mamzers (Nehemiah 13:23-27).   So what do you think it meant for him, when he first heard the words of the Apostle Paul:

“For in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God through faith … There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female– for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”  (Galatians 3:26-28)

What do you think, reader?  What does this mean for us as Christians?  Are we to be looking for the ones that conform to our expectations?  Or are we to be looking for the ones that are broken, and marred with jagged scars?  Do our youth ministries make a place for kids like these?  Or do we want them to “get better” before they come to us?  Are we ready to deal with the ramifications that come from ministry to kids with pain?  Are we ready for the disruption? Or do we simply want to do life with a little interruption as possible?

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[1] Mamzer is also sometimes spelled mumser based upon the Yiddish variation.

[2] The Greek Septuagint translated ממזר as the “son of a prostitute” (from the Greek: ek pornes), while the Latin Vulgate translated it as de scorto natus meaning “born of a prostitute.”

[3] According to the Brown Driver Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon, mamzer is derived from the root m-z-r, meaning “spoiled or corrupted.”  As per the Talmud, mamzer is a blended noun that joins mum (meaning “defect”) and zar (meaning “strange” or “alien”)

 

Youth Will Be Served!

Today, I want to take you to a rather unusual story about an encounter between Jesus, the Apostle Peter and some local tax collectors from the Temple in Jerusalem.  But don’t worry, it’s not a terribly long passage, and I don’t plan to discuss anything related to either taxes or Tea Parties.

They came to Capernaum, where the officials who collected the Temple tax approached Peter.

“Your teacher pays the Temple tax, doesn’t he?  They asked.

“Yes,” he replied

When he came into the house, Jesus spoke first.  “What do you think, Simon?  When the kings of the world collect taxes or duties, who do thy collect them from?  From their own families, or from outsiders?”

“From outsiders,” he replied.

“Well then,” said Jesus, “that means the families are free.  But we don’t want to give them offense, do we?  So why don’t you go down to the sea and cast out a hook?  The first fish you catch, open its mouth and you’ll find a coin.  Take that and give it to them for the two of us.”

See, that wasn’t too bad.  Now, before we dive in, let me just openly admit that what I am about to discuss is not the main focus of this passage.  Generally speaking, when people talk about this text, they talk about things like whether or not Christians should pay taxes, or what Jesus is claiming about the disciples when he refers to them as “families,” or about the miracle of finding a coin in the mouth of a fish.  These are all excellent things to discuss, but I don’t want to talk about any of that.  I want to talk about something else that lies just beneath the surface of the text.

Two quick things before I do that:

1. This tax is explicitly discussed in Exodus 30:13-16.  We’ll come back to that in a minute.
2. In the ancient world, a disciple always follows the lead of his rabbi.    The entire purpose of discipleship is to become like the rabbi by doing everything the rabbi does.  So if the rabbi decides to do something, you can be sure that the disciples will do it as well.

Now, look back on the text from Matthew.  Who pays the tax?  Jesus and Peter, right?  But ask yourself this: why would only one disciple pay the tax if the rabbi had consented to pay it?  Wouldn’t we expect all of the disciples to pay it?  Think about it.  If the whole point of being a disciple in the ancient Jewish culture is to do exactly what the rabbi does, why would the other disciples not pay the tax like Peter?  Let’s look at the Exodus passage, and see if we can’t find the answer.

Everyone … is to pay this: a half shekel according to the [current exchange rate offered by the] sanctuary.  The half shekel is to be an offering to the Lord. Everyone … from twenty years old and up is to pay an offering to the Lord.

Did you see it?  “Everyone from twenty years old and up is to pay an offering to the Lord.”  But only Jesus and Peter pay the tax.  So what this means is that amongst the Messiah’s inner core of followers, only Peter is older than twenty.  The rest … well, the rest are all still “kids.”

Now think about the implications of that.  If you were a leader seeking to “change the world,” would you choose a bunch of a “kids?”  Would you entrust them to be the ones to carry on your message after you had gone away?  Why?  What do you believe to be true about “kids?” 

For the curious among you, this is a tetra drachma, the type of coin found in the mouth of the fish.

 

Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians: A Discussion …

My martial arts instructor often talks about the difficulty of trying to put together a puzzle when all the pieces are still face-down on the table.  It can be done, but without a sense of the larger picture, the task of putting together the puzzle becomes much more complex – much more arduous.

This morning, on the eighth day of reading through the New Testament, I felt as if I had the opportunity to turn over some of the puzzle pieces; and I’m starting to get a sense of the larger picture.

The first piece that was turned over this morning is found in 2 Corinthians 3:1-3.  Here, the Apostle Paul talks about whether or not he needs “letters of recommendation” so that others might be willing to listen to Gospel he is preaching/living.   Now look at what Paul says:

“You yourselves are … a letter of Christ, delivered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets  but on tablets of human hearts.”

Typically, in the past, when I have heard others teach on this passage, the discussion turns to issues of piety.  We are told that others will “see” Christ if we avoid certain behaviors and activities (e.g. swearing, drinking, gambling, pornography, etc…).  But this morning, as I read through 2 Corinthians in one sitting, something else become abundantly clear.  Take a look at the following themes that are discussed in the chapters that surround these verses:

• We don’t want to keep you in the dark about the suffering we went through in Asia.  The load we had to cary was far too heavy for us; it got to the point where we gave up on life itself.”  (1:8)
• God brings suffering so that comfort can be delivered to others (chpt 1)
• “We are under all kinds of pressure, but we are not crushed completely; we are at a loss, but not at our wits’ end; we are persecuted, but not abandoned; we are cast down, but not destroyed.” (4:8)
• “For we know that if our earthly house, our present “tent,” is destroyed, we have a building from God (5:1a)
• “We recommend ourselves as God’s servants: with much patience, with sufferings, difficulties, hardships, beatings, imprisonments, riots, hard work, sleepless nights, going without food” (6:4-5)

So when you look at these words  from chapter 3 in the context of the entire book, it becomes clear.  We are not meant to be “letters” solely through our acts of piety.  We are meant to be blood stained ink.  We are meant to live our lives is such a way that our suffering for Christ bears witness to the centrality of His claim to be the Son of the Living God.

So now, when you look at this in context of the Gospels, which call us to reach out to the poor, the afflicted and the oppressed, it starts to come together; and the questions become obvious.

       Does your discipleship involve reaching out to those in desperate need? 

       Does it involve any kind of significant sacrifice on your part? 

       Is your life marked by suffering? 

       If it is, does your suffering cause others to pity you or see Christ through way you handle it?

Now for the harder question: 

       What does it mean if your life is not marked in this way?