The Night the Lights Went Out - Or Did They?

Had I been there, I surely would have thought that darkness had won. For it was in that perfect, filled- with-Light world, spoken into existence by the Word  - apart from whom nothing has come into being -that Adam picked that filled-with-darkness and seemingly damning piece of fruit. I know, had I been there, that I would have thought it was “the night the lights went out in Eden.”

After all, both our ancient ancestors were paraded out of the garden. Adam would earn his living by the sweat of his brow in a world of thorns and thistles. Eve would face the pain of childbirth and live under the rule of her husband.  Before you know it, Cain kills his brother Abel; the flood of Noah all but wipes out the whole of creation, and war, hatred, distrust, and nationalism are born at Babel.

Yes, I’m thinking it looks like darkness caught up to the light and snuffed it out.

But there is that little word about a bruised heel and crushed head and before you know it, a promise is made to a good-as-dead couple about a baby and a blessing and the stars in the sky and the sand on the sea shore. Maybe the lights didn’t go out after all?

Next thing you know – at least if you’re thinking about time like the Word who created time tends to think – another baby is born and the crushed head will be on the land fill of lights-out depravity. The light maker Himself, the life that is the light of men, will come and push open the gates of Eden.

Here’s how John saw it – “and the light in the darkness is shining, and the darkness did not catch up to it.” That, apparently, is the point of view of the Word who was there.

The season of Advent and Christmas remind us on a regular basis that no matter what the circumstances might be, there is no “the night the lights went out” for the people of God. Advent’s gospel text on the first Sunday of this season of hope and preparation reminded us of a day when God will, without fail, make all things as they should be. Soon Christmas Day will remind us that God has taken the one necessary step to make it possible for a day to come when God will make all things right. 

But in the midst of it all, we are living in one of those periods in human history where sometimes it seems as though “the darkness did catch up to the light.” It would be difficult to argue that we aren’t in difficult days. Yet, the beautiful, simple words of the opening of John declare, “and the light in the darkness is shining, and the darkness did not catch up to it.”

What if, instead of focusing on all the signs of darkness that surround us, we determined to spend these days of Advent and Christmas reminding ourselves of all the places where we see a little light shining? What if we reminded ourselves that God has promised that the darkness will never snuff out the light – the light is shining!

It’s a cloudy day in Georgia where I am writing these words.  It has been cloudy for several days, and the forecast is that it will continue much of the week. It “feels like” the sun will never shine again – yet we all know that it will. There is this “law of nature” that means inevitably it will clear up and the bright sun will show its face again.

Perhaps John is reminding us that there is this “law of the Spirit” that suggests no matter how dreary life may seem, and how hard it is to see even a glimpse of light – “the light is shining in the darkness.”

Had I been there? I have been, actually, and have discovered that the Word was indeed right.

Do the Math

It was a cool, blustery spring day and I was in one of the worst neighborhoods in Atlanta with a group of students working to clean up an apartment complex playground and have a cookout for the residents. It was a part of Spring Ministry Day at Point University and we were doing our best to make the playground at least “semi-usable.” Some students were going from apartment to apartment, inviting the residents to the picnic. 

What I already knew about the residents of the complex included these facts: (a) most were single mothers with several children, not always from the same missing father; (b) most were high school dropouts; (c) more than a few were struggling with a variety of addiction issues from alcohol to a host of what the more proper people have called “illegal substances,” and (d) none of them could see any light at the end of the tunnel.

While working on the playground, I noticed a big banner hanging on one of the exterior walls of the complex, facing the street. It advertised a “move-in special” rent rate of $795 per month. I started doing some math in my head (and later checked it out on a calculator for accuracy) and realized why there seems to be not even a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel for these folks.

First, if someone living in that complex wanted to find a job, without a high school diploma, that probably means working in a convenience store, liquor store, or other such businesses that seems to flock to these kinds of neighborhoods. A job in those places is most likely going to pay the minimum wage, which was $7.25 in 2009 when I was in that playground. But it is also true that those kinds of places often limit their employees to 30 hours per week or less – that way you avoid the requirement to provide benefits like health insurance, retirement, disability insurance, etc. (Chances are pretty reasonable that the apartment complex and the convenience store are owned by people who have lots of cash in the bank.)

A little math provides some opportunity for being stunned by the facts: (a) that person will make $217.50 per week, before taxes, social security, medicare, etc. are deducted; (b) in order to come up with the $795 “move-in special” rate for rent, it takes 18 days  (3.6 weeks) just to have the money to pay the rent, and that is assuming no taxes were deducted; and (c) we still don’t have electricity, water, and gas to make the apartment livable. 

The salary earned during the remaining 12 days of the month will have to pay the utilities, buy the groceries, pay the doctor bill, and buy a pass to ride public transit. And should this person follow Dave Ramsey’s recommended approach to biblical economics, she will need to tithe $21.75 weekly to her local church. 

For lots of people who see themselves as followers of Jesus, the temptation is to focus on facts other than the brutal, destitute reality of “paying rent on minimum wages.” Of course she should not have dropped out of high school – even with a diploma a decent salary in our culture without a college degree is becoming increasingly hard to find. Of course she shouldn’t have children and not be married – but so much about our culture’s approach to poverty pushes people in the corner in ways that “one more baby” seems the way out. She shouldn’t be spending her money on MD 2020 and malt liquor or the “illegal substances” available on every street corner, but honesty compels me to wonder would I have the courage to not do that in those circumstances. I’m not saying that is a morally correct decision, but just suggesting that the Sanctimonious Simons (see Luke 7:36ff) of the following-Jesus world ought to at least occasionally think “there but for the grace of God . . .”

The civic Jesus who so often becomes the object of our worship and who promises “God helps those who help themselves,” and assures us that prosperity is just around the corner if we learn to manage our money better is not the same Jesus described on page after page of the four gospels.  I sometimes wonder, when I listen to the financial gurus who like to claim to speak on behalf of Jesus, if they are reading the same Bible I read. It is especially troubling to me when it comes out something like “if you have money, you’re blessed by God,” and “if you’re poor, it’s your own fault and not blessed by God.”

When followers of Jesus resort to using cultural values to define God’s blessings, you can be sure that an inescapable corner is lurking close by.  Lots of my peers have grandchildren. Vicki and I don’t. Have we done something that has caused God to withhold that blessing?  Vicki spent a considerable portion of the year 2013 very ill – sometimes critically. Has God decided to withhold His blessing on her life because she has been sick? I have friends who have worked hard all their lives, and still live from paycheck to paycheck – and not because they spend their money frivolously. And I have friends who just seem to have “the Midas touch” and don’t really work all that hard, but can afford extravagant vacations all the time and pay the bills.

I know some very well-to-do people who have decided to use their resources to advance the kingdom in ways that are amazing. I know some very well-to-do people who resist dropping a dime in the Salvation Army buckets at Christmas. I know some not-so-well-to-do people who give generously from their meager resources, and can’t afford a vacation, much less an extravagant one. Of course I know some not-so-well-to-do folks who do nothing for the kingdom.

It seems to me that what makes a person “blessed by God” is not what we have, but what we choose to do with whatever we have. To let the radio talk show folks who seem to think of themselves as theologically astute speak on behalf of Christ on this topic is worse than nonsense. Matthew 8 (verses  5-11) is the story where Jesus says about the Gentile Centurion that He had not found that great a faith in all of Israel. Jesus made that statement not based on how much money, or what position the centurion occupied – but on his willingness to absolutely trust his servant to the care of Jesus. I have a hard time thinking anything but that what makes me “blessed by God” is not how much money I have but how much I trust God with what I do have. 

If we want to associate an economic theory with Jesus, then the best way to do that would be to listen to what He actually says. That’s fairly easy to do. Matthew 19:16ff, Mark 10:17ff, and Luke 18:18ff are pretty direct statements.  When asked “Teacher, what good thing must I do in order to have life eternal?” Jesus replies with an overview of the Ten Commandments, interestingly not mentioning “do not covet.” The young man replies “I’ve done them all!” and Jesus doesn’t correct him. Then Jesus says, “sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (Matthew 18:21) That of course is followed, in Matthew’s version, by “When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.” 

Every time I read these three accounts – and it is worth noting that there are relatively few such stories told by all three Synoptic Gospel writers – I want to immediately say, “This can’t mean what it sounds like it means.” But I have to remind myself that in Mark’s account we are told that “Jesus loved this young man.” So, if Jesus really didn’t mean this and He really loved this young man, why isn’t He going after him to say, “Hey, stop – don’t go away sad, I didn’t mean that so seriously.” And if Jesus didn’t mean this, why does it seem as though Luke’s account of the earliest, early church in Acts 2:42-4:37 reflects an approach to the kingdom of God that took this story very seriously?

Honestly, I don’t know what to do with this story. In the name of transparency, I own a house, two cars, some furniture, a little piece of property I inherited in South Carolina, some other “stuff” that is the normal “stuff” westerners own, and a boat-load of books. When students borrow my books, I ask them “to sign them out” so I know I will get them back. My house is not on the market and I have no plans to sell it and give the money I receive away. I’m trying to save a little for retirement and have paid who knows how much in self-employed social security taxes. 

But . . . that story Jesus told is still there and won’t go away. So at least I ought to be very generous with what I have. To blame a poor person for being poor and view my rich self as “blessed by God” seems to be so far removed from what Jesus actually said that it has to border on, if not cross, the line of heresy. It would probably be foolish for me “to sell it all, give it away, and expect the church to take care of me” in the cultural context in which I have been called to follow Jesus.  But it is no less foolish to assume that because I have so much, I am especially blessed by God and poor people aren’t. 

One of the great lessons I’ve learned in making numerous trips for Seminary of the Nations to some of the world’s poorest spots is that you can be dirt poor and still see yourself as greatly blessed by God. Blessing has less to do with “how much” and much more to do with “How do I trust God?” Some of the most joyful, “blessed” people I have ever met were also some of the poorest – who apparently found Jesus’ story not all that troubling.

I saw a blog post from Rachel Held Evans taking on Dave Ramsey a bit about his attitude toward poverty. Of course Ms. Evans is female, so in the minds of some she can’t really speak to biblical ideals and whatever else you might say about her, she is unafraid to address the sacred cow topics of our day. No surprise that some followers of Jesus have less than kind things to say about her over that particular blog and quite a few others.    

She doesn’t need me to defend her – and that’s not what this is about. I certainly don’t think she has the exactly correct, biblical point of view on every topic about which she writes – I don’t even think I do! But she has poked at a sore place that needs poking. How any follower of Jesus could associate wealth as the tried and true sign of blessing is simply beyond my ability to comprehend. It makes me wonder whether the prosperity gospel stuff of the televangelists has infiltrated more orthodox gospel preaching or whether our own sense of orthodoxy was corrupted and the prosperity folks took corrupted theology for gospel.

When all is said and done, I want those poor, single mothers living in the shabby apartments of an Atlanta ghetto to see a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel. That flicker has to do with Jesus, who declared Himself to be “the light of the world” and commissioned His followers to let our lights shine. That’s probably not going to happen as long as the face and voice of the gospel in our culture continues to suggest that the only sure way to know you are blessed by God is to have some cash in the bank. And that if you happen to be one of those poor people living in that complex, then it’s your fault and you will have to fix it.

I will be eternally grateful that when Jesus looked at the pitiful excuse for a life that I offered Him, He didn’t say “it’s y our fault and you will have to fix it.” Paul understood that well and perhaps that is why he said, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, on order to bring praise to God.” (Romans 15:8)

Trivialities

Anyone familiar with Matthew 23 knows that when you read that chapter, you are entering Jesus’ most intense and direct criticism of the religious world into which He was sent as redeemer. It all seems to revolve around the primary concern on the part of Jesus that the religious teachers were teaching one thing and doing something else. “Do whatever they teach you and follow it,” Jesus says, “but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.” (23:3)

Jesus then proceeds to announce a series of seven woes, each of them denouncing the emptiness of religious ritual that isn’t acted out in the daily living of those who lead. In six of the seven statements of woe, Jesus uses the word hypocrite as the indictment of their approach to serving God. In one of the statements (beginning in vs. 16) the indicting phrase is “blind fools.”

For me, the most telling of this series of indicting comments on how faith sometimes gets practiced is the one found in verses 23 and 24. There Jesus acknowledges their attention to detail – they “tithe mint, dill, and cumin.” That’s pretty intense. They are determined, apparently, to tithe everything – even the tiny little value produced by the herb garden in their backyards. 

But in doing that, they have ignored “the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.” In my mind, I can see them walking by a man like Lazarus in Luke’s story of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19ff) while rushing to get to the Temple with a teaspoon of dill as the tithe from this year’s crop. Jesus doesn’t suggest that they should not have tithed – but that it is so easy for religious people to let trivial things trump the gospel. 

This little statement ends with the absurdity of straining out the gnats, while choking on a camel. Both gnats and camels were “unclean” according to the Law, but how odd that they would make sure the tiny little gnats were strained out as they attempted to swallow a camel whole. 

My guess is that these ancient Jewish teachers aren’t the last people to choke to death on camel stew! The truth is that we often allow trivial things to get in the way of what is essential to being just, merciful, and faithful. William Willimon talks about this reality in his book Calling and Character. In a chapter talking about the sacrifices that those called to ministry must face, he says, “The cross teaches us to have no qualms about suffering in service to the gospel. What is immoral is not one’s suffering in service to the gospel, but rather one’s suffering in service to triviality.” (page 113)

Leave it to Jesus to not give us the simple answer we so desperately want. We live in an age where we are drawn to “simple and easy” and yet Jesus seems so unimpressed by “simple and easy.” So He doesn’t tell me in this text to just ignore what, in comparison to justice, and mercy, and faith seem so trivial. Rather He tells me don’t let the fact that I do those trivial things convince me that I can ignore the more weighty things.   Allowing the weightier things to have a place in my life is what gives the trivial things real meaning.

Jesus doesn’t seem to be “anti-ritual” here as much as He seems to want ritual to have meaning. That happens only to the extent that we allow gospel to trump trivialities. Even if I end up suffering for the gospel – I should not be reluctant – have no qualms about it.

Sometime around mid-November we believers in the US start thinking about thanksgiving. Despite more and more commercial encroachment every year, it still seems to me to be the most untarnished of our holidays. Perhaps this year’s season of thanksgiving can be a time to look carefully at our own lives in the context of gospel versus triviality. We can thank God for those times when gospel trumped trivialities and ask for His help in getting better at justice, mercy, and faith as opposed to tithing the herb garden!

Choking to death on camel stew seems a painful way to go!

The Psalms of Ascent

Psalms 120 – 134 all have a title in the Hebrew text which is often translated something like “A Song of Ascents.” While it is probably impossible to say with any absoluteness, many scholars believes these psalms were sung by ancient Jewish travelers as they came to Jerusalem for the major feasts – “ascending up Mount Zion” as it were to worship God.

Eugene Peterson, back in the 1990s, wrote a wonderful study of these psalms titled A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. That book has been updated and remains in print and focuses on the challenge of being a follower of God in a culture where everything must happen instantly.

For the past several  weeks I have been reading and re-reading these psalms. Not in the sense of wanting to interpret them, discover what intriguing Hebrew word might be behind some English word, and all the “stuff” that might go along with good Bible study habits. Rather, I’ve been just reading them. Often, I’ve taken advantage of the nice weather and read them as I walked around outside – thinking that the ancient Jews who first read them probably weren’t sitting in a temperature controlled office or home, replete with a comfortable chair, good lighting, and all sorts of reference works should they want to dig into something in these psalms.  These are traveling psalms – perhaps best meant to just be read and absorbed.

They cover a wide array of life issues – and speak powerfully to God’s care and provision for His people in the midst of struggle.  “I called, He answered” is right at the beginning in Psalm 120. Each of these wonderfully written poems describes something about my life with God that is refreshing. And I must say – reading them outside in the world God made, has proven to be a great reminder that “my help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth.” (121:2; 124:8)  It is Psalm 133 that reminds us of the blessed experience of brothers and sisters dwelling together in unity. Psalm 134 ends the Psalms of Ascent with a prayer that “the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth, bless you from Zion.”

Less than a month from today is Thanksgiving. We are living in a time when, looking in one direction, it seems that blessing are ours in ways too great for us to count – even if we follow that old hymn’s advice and “name them one by one.” Yet, in a different direction, we are troubled in ways that frighten us when we try to imagine the destination of a culture so determined to walk away from “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy.” (Philippians 4:8)

It is almost as though we are somehow being ripped apart by opposing forces – the goodness of the blessings of God and the world He created surround us while the ever-creeping presence of godless outlooks get closer and closer.

The Psalms of Ascent can give perspective – in so many ways I just described the very world the ancient Jews who first read them lived in as I spoke of our own world.

So, if you are looking for an exercise in spiritual formation for the next 30 or so days, as we head up to the mountain of holidays called Thanksgiving, l invite you to join me in daily reading the Psalms of Ascent – 120 – 134 – outside if at all possible. Let God, the Maker of heaven and earth, speak to your heart through these words in the context of the very world He made.

I’m guessing that it could make Thanksgiving this year even more meaningful.

(Should you decide to join me in this activity, I would love to hear from you – wye.huxford@point.edu – about your experience.)

God's Character, and Mine

Matthew 5:48 is a part of the Sermon on the Mount and that in itself should be a bit of a warning that it is one of the biblical texts that can make you uncomfortable. That is especially true if our relationship to Jesus is more casual than intentional.

But here is what it says, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (NRSV) This is one of those places where we might be tempted to stop reading and say, “Really, Jesus?” The word typically translated “perfect” ultimately seems to reflect the idea of having fully attained what something was designed to be. As creatures made in God’s image,  such perfection would be that moment when we fully live out God’s intentional purposes for humans when He made us in the first place.

This futuristic command is the summary statement for a series of comments from Jesus on such topics as murder, adultery, divorce, false swearing, revenge and loving your neighbor and hating your enemy.  Jesus seems to believe that they have, over the years of having been entrusted with the Law, missed the point of much of what the Law had to say. 

When we start reading Scripture as God intended it to be read (or specifically in the case of this particular text, the Law) then the idea that our character and God’s character will cross paths seems a reasonable thing for Jesus to command. The whole Sermon on the Mount may best be understood as a description of what Israel would have looked like had Israel read the Law as God intended. Thus, instead of thinking as long as we didn’t murder someone, we were okay with God; or as long as we didn’t actually commit the act of adultery we were okay with God, etc. we would know that the tendency of religious people to focus on behavior rather than character is always a fatal mistake. Hence Jesus’ command – “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” 

This idea has led me to think that when I read Scripture, study Scripture, argue with Scripture, or all the other things we might do with Scripture – nothing could be more important than to always ask two fundamental questions: [a] what does this text teach me about God’s character; and [b] how can I learn to emulate that aspect of God’s character in my life – so that I can “be perfect as my heavenly Father is perfect?”

When I start reading Scripture this way, it suddenly speaks to my life in ways I didn’t realize it could – or perhaps in some cases, didn’t believe it did. I no longer have to ask “where’s that verse that tells me how Christians should react to immigration issues?” I can simply reflect upon “how does God react to the immigration issue?” It isn’t a matter of finding a verse about health care for everyone, but treating others like God does. In other words, it simply is a matter of “being as complete in fulfilling the purpose for which we were made, as God is complete.”

I know that’s a tall order. But I didn’t give it – Jesus did. Paul evidently saw it as important, in Romans 15:7 he says, “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” Wrestling with the idea of God’s character as the model for our own may occasionally leave us with a limp – it seems to have done that for Jacob, why not us? (Genesis 32:22ff) But how greater the blessing of a limp because we have struggled to be like God, than the perfect gait of one who never thought that life really is about character before it is about behavior.