Few of us would suggest Galatians as particularly pastoral in nature. Paul seems to be frustrated at levels that border on anger and most of the language of the epistle is undergirded with tension. But here and there as you read Galatians, you discover the heart of Paul as he expresses his desire for a bit of reformation to occur in these churches.
One of those places is Galatians 4:19, where he says "My children, with whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you" (NASB). "My children," is found often in John, but not Paul. And if you read Galatians from the beginning to this point, it is a bit of relief to know that Paul still has this affection for these wayward believers.
Then he describes the impact of his concern as being akin to labor pains. While Paul obviously has no personal experience when it comes to labor pains, like males in every culture, he surely is aware of the intensity of such pain. It may even be possible that he is alluding to the Genesis narrative and the conversation God had with Eve as she and Adam were expelled from the garden.
The focus of his love and concern, his willingness to suffer as though in labor, is "until Christ is formed in you." The labor pains analogy makes me think that Paul is thinking something like "You've met Christ, but you haven't done much with that meeting yet." Or perhaps Christ is in some sort of embryonic stage in your lives, but you need to give Him birth.
All of that convinces me that the rigid legalism that characterized the faith of these believers is preventing the true spirit of Christ to be evident -to be formed in them. What an odd thing for Paul to say to people who are seemingly convinced that Paul's approach to the Christian gospel is inadequate and that only by adding some rules and regulations can one truly be Christian.
To that sort of thinking, Paul says, "You foolish Galatians." Later, in his epistle to the church in Colossae he says that such an approach to having "Christ formed in us" has "the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and self-abasement and severe treatment of the body, but is of no value against fleshly indulgence" (Colossians 2:23, NASB). No wonder he thinks the Galatians are foolish - they are guilty of much the same sort of behavior as the Colossians.
Checking off the list of regulations seldom changes hearts. If hearts aren't changed, then it is hard to see how "Christ is being formed" in our lives. Paul is no doubt right; stepping away from "the traditions of men that we treat as the doctrines of God" is hard work. A bit like giving birth. But we all know the joy that comes after such pain!
22 October 2011
14 October 2011
Accommodation
Having nearly finished Hannah’s Child, Stanley Hauerwas’ memoir, I’m finding all sorts of things to think about. Whatever one might think about Hauerwas, what you can’t say is that his writing style doesn’t provide lots of opportunities for thinking. While I would never suggest that he gets everything right as I would see right, he never fails to make me think and I’m often thinking something like “I wish I had said that first!”
Near the end of Hannah’s Child, he is writing about the nature of the church, which he deeply believes to be an important witness to the world of God’s love and grace. One of the comments that he makes and that falls into the category of “I wish I had said that first?” has to do with the idea of the church as “answer.”
Here’s what he says: “When Christianity is assumed to be an ‘answer’ that makes the world intelligible, it reflects an accommodated church committed to assuring Christians that the way things are is the way things have to be.” The last thing we should want to be is “an accommodated church.” And right behind that would some sort of idea that “the way things are is the way things have to be.”
It all reminds me of the power and potential impact of biblical texts like 1 Corinthians 1:18-25. Paul is unwilling to accommodate the theological idea of a “miracle a day” or the philosophical idea of an “acceptable worldview” in his preaching of the Christian gospel, which he brilliantly summarizes as “we preach Christ and him crucified.” In a world that was demanding their self-defined ideas of power and wisdom, that had to sound like a lot of weakness and foolishness. He would not accommodate.
At Mount Carmel Christian Church where I have been serving as interim minister for a while, our Wednesday night studies have been focused on “how things ought to be” in the church of the 21st century. I am pretty confident that I don’t fully understand all the implications of thinking about “how things ought to be,” but I am confident that it isn’t “the way things are” and equally confident that the gospel has power that is greater than “the way things are.” So I don’t have to give in to my culture and assume that is the “way things have to be.”
The simple truth is that the gospel isn’t a magical pill that we swallow and all of a sudden the world makes sense. The gospel actually stands in stark contrast to the kingdom of the world. Do you remember the conversation Jesus and Pilate had in Pilate’s courtroom? Listen again to Jesus: “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be handed over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not of this realm.” (John 18:36, NASB) If Jesus is telling the truth here, then in what way could we arrive at some sense in which the gospel is the answer that makes the world intelligible?
Hauerwas goes on to say in this section of Hannah’s Child that “for me, learning to be a Christian has meant learning to live without answers. . . faith is but a name for learning how to go on without knowing the answers.” Oddly, or actually not so oddly, in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25, Paul declares “for those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” For Paul, to be called at least suggests that we have responded in faith the message of “Christ and him crucified.” Faith. Learning how to go on without knowing the answers.”
So while I may not know exactly what the church in the 21st Century has to look like, I do know in faith that you and I must “go on without knowing the answers.” That won’t be accommodation to the theological and philosophical demands of the world. But where Christ is truly proclaimed, something very important will happen.
That “something” could very well be “how things ought to be.”
Near the end of Hannah’s Child, he is writing about the nature of the church, which he deeply believes to be an important witness to the world of God’s love and grace. One of the comments that he makes and that falls into the category of “I wish I had said that first?” has to do with the idea of the church as “answer.”
Here’s what he says: “When Christianity is assumed to be an ‘answer’ that makes the world intelligible, it reflects an accommodated church committed to assuring Christians that the way things are is the way things have to be.” The last thing we should want to be is “an accommodated church.” And right behind that would some sort of idea that “the way things are is the way things have to be.”
It all reminds me of the power and potential impact of biblical texts like 1 Corinthians 1:18-25. Paul is unwilling to accommodate the theological idea of a “miracle a day” or the philosophical idea of an “acceptable worldview” in his preaching of the Christian gospel, which he brilliantly summarizes as “we preach Christ and him crucified.” In a world that was demanding their self-defined ideas of power and wisdom, that had to sound like a lot of weakness and foolishness. He would not accommodate.
At Mount Carmel Christian Church where I have been serving as interim minister for a while, our Wednesday night studies have been focused on “how things ought to be” in the church of the 21st century. I am pretty confident that I don’t fully understand all the implications of thinking about “how things ought to be,” but I am confident that it isn’t “the way things are” and equally confident that the gospel has power that is greater than “the way things are.” So I don’t have to give in to my culture and assume that is the “way things have to be.”
The simple truth is that the gospel isn’t a magical pill that we swallow and all of a sudden the world makes sense. The gospel actually stands in stark contrast to the kingdom of the world. Do you remember the conversation Jesus and Pilate had in Pilate’s courtroom? Listen again to Jesus: “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be handed over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not of this realm.” (John 18:36, NASB) If Jesus is telling the truth here, then in what way could we arrive at some sense in which the gospel is the answer that makes the world intelligible?
Hauerwas goes on to say in this section of Hannah’s Child that “for me, learning to be a Christian has meant learning to live without answers. . . faith is but a name for learning how to go on without knowing the answers.” Oddly, or actually not so oddly, in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25, Paul declares “for those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” For Paul, to be called at least suggests that we have responded in faith the message of “Christ and him crucified.” Faith. Learning how to go on without knowing the answers.”
So while I may not know exactly what the church in the 21st Century has to look like, I do know in faith that you and I must “go on without knowing the answers.” That won’t be accommodation to the theological and philosophical demands of the world. But where Christ is truly proclaimed, something very important will happen.
That “something” could very well be “how things ought to be.”
05 October 2011
Vision as Vehicle
A number of years ago I was one of the speakers at a retreat for ministers. I don’t remember what the theme of the retreat was but I, along with another person involved in education, spoke several times at this retreat. I do remember that the schedule was very relaxed – there was at least as much time to play as there was time to be in sessions.
One of the preachers there had a bit of a reputation as one who came to the retreat but attended no sessions. I remember hearing his explanation when one of his friends was getting on to him for sacking out during the sessions. He said, “I already know more than I’m doing.” My first thought was “I don’t think I would have said that!”
But I often think about that comment – what in the world would make a leader in the kingdom of God say such a thing? And he said it with a bit of pride – not the slightest hint of embarrassment.
At some level he seemed to be without any vision of advancing the kingdom. The congregation for which he preached wasn’t exactly noted as a dynamic church that was in constant discipleship making mode. So how does one get that sort of comfort level with “knowing more than you’re doing?”
But that rather confessional statement on his part may be true for congregations as well. Is it possible that one of the challenges of the local church is that collectively, the congregation knows much more about the Christian gospel than they are acting upon? If that could be true, then could it be true that there is a lack of vision?
Vision has to be the vehicle through which believers discover a way to put into action what they already know. Vision is not only what can motivate us to think “we ought to be advancing the kingdom” but it can be the vehicle through which we discover those opportunities.
One need only to read Luke’s accounts of Saul’s conversion in Acts 9, 22 or 26. The phrase that leaps off the page to me is found in Acts 9:20, “immediately he began to proclaim Jesus.” Saul’s vision of a risen Lord provided the vehicle through which he inaugurated what would be a life time of “proclaiming Jesus.”
I’m wondering if perhaps the reason leaders are so often frustrated with those they lead and followers are so frustrated with those who lead them isn’t simply a matter of limited vision. “You’ve taught us all this “stuff” about the kingdom of God,” yet sometimes we sit in waiting at opportunities to implement what we know.
What I know for certain about myself is that I never want to be the kind of person who says “I already know more than I do,” and at the same time, I don’t want to be the kind of leader who teaches more than he motivates others to implement.
Vision can be vehicle!
One of the preachers there had a bit of a reputation as one who came to the retreat but attended no sessions. I remember hearing his explanation when one of his friends was getting on to him for sacking out during the sessions. He said, “I already know more than I’m doing.” My first thought was “I don’t think I would have said that!”
But I often think about that comment – what in the world would make a leader in the kingdom of God say such a thing? And he said it with a bit of pride – not the slightest hint of embarrassment.
At some level he seemed to be without any vision of advancing the kingdom. The congregation for which he preached wasn’t exactly noted as a dynamic church that was in constant discipleship making mode. So how does one get that sort of comfort level with “knowing more than you’re doing?”
But that rather confessional statement on his part may be true for congregations as well. Is it possible that one of the challenges of the local church is that collectively, the congregation knows much more about the Christian gospel than they are acting upon? If that could be true, then could it be true that there is a lack of vision?
Vision has to be the vehicle through which believers discover a way to put into action what they already know. Vision is not only what can motivate us to think “we ought to be advancing the kingdom” but it can be the vehicle through which we discover those opportunities.
One need only to read Luke’s accounts of Saul’s conversion in Acts 9, 22 or 26. The phrase that leaps off the page to me is found in Acts 9:20, “immediately he began to proclaim Jesus.” Saul’s vision of a risen Lord provided the vehicle through which he inaugurated what would be a life time of “proclaiming Jesus.”
I’m wondering if perhaps the reason leaders are so often frustrated with those they lead and followers are so frustrated with those who lead them isn’t simply a matter of limited vision. “You’ve taught us all this “stuff” about the kingdom of God,” yet sometimes we sit in waiting at opportunities to implement what we know.
What I know for certain about myself is that I never want to be the kind of person who says “I already know more than I do,” and at the same time, I don’t want to be the kind of leader who teaches more than he motivates others to implement.
Vision can be vehicle!
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