Reading the “We” Book

Growing up in the south, I think I’ve heard it at least a million times. I’ve even adopted as a personal mission to rid our colloquial way of talking of this phrase – though I doubt I’ll live long enough to accomplish that mission!

It’s the way lots of people, not just southerners, talk about their relationship with God. In my neck of the woods, as we say in the south, it comes out like this: “I got saved on . . .” For people who give priority to baptism, it usually means that they were baptized on a particular date and from that moment on, “I got saved.” For people whose understanding of baptism isn’t quite so much of a priority, it usually means there was some identifiable moment in life where they made a commitment to Jesus, and from that moment on, “I got saved.”

Of course it is important to talk about our faith – and that certainly includes how we came to have a relationship with God through Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit. But it may actually be more important to talk more about why we remain believers than how we became one. Growing up in a very committed family, attending a Christian college and then seminary and after that spending my entire life in either a local church or academic setting for ministry – I don’t have much to tell when it comes to “how did you become a disciple of Christ?” But, if the subject is “why do you remain a believer?” then there is much to be said.

Much of that answer would revolve around two fundamental biblical truths: first, God’s community of disciples, the body of Christ, has always shepherded me alone the way which makes that first person singular pronoun questionable; and second, my relationship God has, over these many years, continued to grow because of the body of Christ, which makes the event sounding “got saved” part of that phrase questionable.

In Scot McKnight’s A Community Called Atonement: Living Theology, he puts it all in perspective when he says, “The Kingdom of God is more than what God is doing ‘within you’ and more than God’s personal ‘dynamic presence’; it is what God is doing in this world through the community of faith for the redemptive plans of God – including what God is doing in you and me. It transforms relationship with God, with self, with others, and with the world.” (Kindle location 4455)

Better than saying “I got saved . . .” would be to say “we are being saved . . . and in that saving relationship with God, He is using us (not just me!) to renew and restore the world to what He made it to be.” The power of individualism, which is nearly pandemic in most Western cultures, simply stands at odds with the idea of the kingdom of God found in the New Testament. While I am confident that I have a “personal relationship” with God through Christ, I am equally confident that it has meaning only in the context of God’s community – the body of Christ. If that isn’t true, then it is hard to understand how Jesus could be comfortable telling his contemporary Jews that they could sum up everything with two simple (not simplistic) phrases: love God and love neighbor. (Luke 10:25ff is a great place to read and reflect on this idea.)

So . .  . the Bible we are reading really is a “we book” and not an “I book.” Perhaps you will help me in my mission to rid the world of “I got saved” and replacing it with “we are being saved.” After all, we truly are in this together – according to the “we book.”

In Need of an “Until Moment”

Psalm 73 is one of those psalms that ought to be read often. It has such a contemporary ring to it that one would be hard pressed to think the words of the psalm weren’t written directly to our age and culture.

At the center of the psalm are these words: “But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I perceived their end.” (Psalm 73:15,16, NRSV)

The words of Psalm 73 are ascribed to Asaph, who seems to be a man who had been faithful to God, but not rewarded; and a man who sees himself surrounded by faithless people who seem to have it all. The idea that wicked people would be prosperous causes him to question the idea that God is just.

After boldly declaring that the wicked always seem to be at ease and increasing in riches (73:12) he sound a bit like the author of Ecclesiastes in declaring “all in vain I have kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been plagued, and am punished every morning.” (73:13,14, NRSV)

It seems to me that the phrase “until I went into the sanctuary of God” is crucial. At its minimum, that phrase must suggest something about the importance of the worship of God. The text doesn’t say if the psalmist received some special revelation from God, but it could have simply been a word he heard from a priest in the Temple finally got his attention. Whatever happened – it surely happened in the midst of worship.

After his “until moment,” the psalmist changes tunes completely. He ends the psalm with phrase like “my flesh and my heart may fail, but god is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (73:26) and “but for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, to tell of all your works.” (73:28)

One of the things that makes me value the relevance of this psalm so much is how often struggle in life becomes the excuse for not worshipping. Asaph seems headed in that direction – only to discover that it was only in the context of confronting the presence of God in worship – “until I went into the sanctuary of God” – that he gained a new and much better perspective about life.

Jump forward in time a few centuries and you will discover the author of Hebrews encouraging his readers by these words: “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24,25, NRSV) Oddly enough, those words precede a paragraph later in the chapter when he reminds them that life is sometimes difficult – but even in the difficulties we face, there is no need to “abandon that confidence of yours; it brings a great reward.” (10:36)

These are hard times for lots of folks – maybe even most folks. Perhaps our own “until moment” would help us!

The Move

I can remember conversations at least 30 years old where the trustees of what is now Point University wondered whether or not our East Point campus was the right place for what we knew then as Atlanta Christian College to grow into the college we all dreamed about. At some level, the reality of the move that surrounds me at work today – my office is even more a wreck than usual! – should not be all that surprising.

But it was only about five years ago that the moment of reality that characterizes this week became a firm decision. But even then, the process has been a long one, and the tanking of the global economy slowed down what had been a firm and unanimous decision on the part of the trustees. 

About 18 months ago the big announcement said that Atlanta Christian College would become Point University and that the new home for the traditional program would be West Point, Georgia. By the time the announcement was made, the senior leadership team had toured the former international headquarters for a textile conglomerate, the apartment complex where students would live, all sorts of athletic facilities, and anything else that might potentially be a part of Point University’s new home.

Initially, we thought we would be “leaving East Point,” but the huge blessing of an adult degree program known as Access meant that the old East Point campus would become an off-site location for Point University with some 600 students and room to grow. The renovation of some of the space in East Point has already begun! But that’s not all! In addition to the East Point location, Point University would arrive in West Point with campuses in Peachtree City and Savannah – and more to come in the future. 

It is nearly incomprehensible – except for the fact that God is clearly a part of it all – to think that six years ago, we were a small, struggling Christian college with an excellent faculty but struggling to keep enrollment steady, much less growing. Now – and God gets the glory in this – we have some 1300 students on four campuses. The commitment to transform the world through the integration of faith into every academic discipline is more intentional than ever and we are graduating students who, regardless of their vocational goals, have been taught that the ideal of “the priesthood of all believers” applies to business leaders as well as preachers; school teachers as well as youth ministers; and counselors as well as worship leaders. We all, in that sense, are “missionaries” who are determined to change the world. 

But – there is that inevitable tug of the heart strings when you see moving vans on campus and know that by noon on 14 June 2012, your office is supposed to be packed and ready for the move to West Point. Let me explain.

Between 1969 and 1973, I spent nine months of each year on this campus. I lived in Roberts Hall four years, ate many meals in the old Head Hall Dining Room, attended class in Old Main, or in “the Greek Room” on the lower end of Alumni Hall. I went to chapel twice a week (we weren’t brave enough back then to miss too often) in what was then Westside Christian Church and ate enough “Small KC Steaks” at Wingo’s on Campbellton Road to explain my elevated cholesterol readings today. 

It was in those years that I met people who would be life-long mentors. Orval Morgan taught me something about the dignity of preaching; Ralph Warren taught me how to write better; Roy McKinney taught me more than I can put on paper; and Jim Evans helped me fall in love with Greek and interpreting Scripture. Jim Redmon was a model of quiet, but steady leadership and Denver Sizemore taught us all that you need to take good notes.

I also met the best thing (other than Jesus) that has ever happened to me during those years. Vicki Kindt and I were freshmen together in 1969 and while she tends to dismiss my story as apocryphal, I picked her out in the “freshman orientation” line. Later this summer we will celebrate 39 years of marriage. Had it not been for the East Point campus of Atlanta Christian College, it seems unlikely that a little country boy from rural South Carolina would have ever met, much less married, the accomplished musician from St. Petersburg, Florida.

All of that doesn’t begin to describe my attachments to this place. Since June, 1976 I have been on this campus on a nearly daily basis. Even in the twenty years I spent as preacher at First Christian in College Park/Tyrone, I taught at least a class every semester and most often a summer school class. I’ve been to basketball games, soccer games, volleyball matches, student events, recitals, concerts, and who knows what else – all right here on this campus. 

I’ve taught Biblical Interpretation (once known with the lovely sounding title Hermeneutics and Exegesis) every fall for 36 years – and sometimes in the spring semester as well and in almost every summer school. Theological Foundations for the Christian Life (once known as Christian Doctrine) has been my class since the early 1990s and a host of other theology and New Testament related courses have been taught by me in these classrooms. 

Here – on this campus – I’ve met a student or two I could have killed – but a boat load or two I would die for. It was on this campus that I met young men and women who allowed me to invest in their lives and who are now serving God all over the world. I’ve even been able to teach hundreds of students in the adult program – whose commitment to serving Christ always manages to remind me of the privilege of teaching.

So . . . how could I not feel just a bit weird today when, walking from the weekly meeting vice presidents have with the president, I walked past a moving van loading up “stuff” to take to West Point?

Yet – just last Tuesday Vicki and I took two very good friends – friends we met on this campus for the first time – and walked through the nearly-complete Academic Center and then drove around to all the Point University facilities that are being readied for August of this year. It is, in a word, unbelievable. I have said to lots of people “it’s too nice to be a Christian college!” 

The potential for Point University – not only in West Point, but in East Point, in Peachtree City, in Savannah, and in all the other places where we will establish kingdom outposts where kingdom people can be educated to do kingdom things – is amazing. It is so amazing that it seems impossible to me that anyone could look at what is happening and not thing “this is of God!”

I won’t lie and say I don’t have attachments to this East Point campus. Fortunately, my role as vice president for spiritual formation and dean of the chapel, as well as teaching in the Access program, means I will be back on campus in East Point on a regular basis. I’m thankful that what we initially thought about “moving” evolved into “relocating the traditional campus” and not simply “moving.” I’m thankful that relocating the traditional program gives the adult program room to grow. I’m thankful that our traditional campus in West Point will give us room to grow. I’m grateful that the expansion of what we offer gives us more opportunity to influence the current generation to become “kingdom people doing kingdom things” all over the world.

I don’t know what else to say about this week than to simply say “I’m grateful – moving pains and all – for what God is doing on these campuses!”

The Freedom of Slavery

One of issues always important for Christians to consider is the tension that exists between effectively witnessing to the pagan world around us, while not allowing that world to infiltrate the Gospel. It is crucial that we find ways to make the gospel relevant to those around us; but equally crucial that we don’t allow the culture to dictate values to the Gospel. 

In some ways, the bridge that spans the first century and the twenty-first century needs to be a one-way bridge. We strive to bring the gospel to our own culture, but carefully work to avoid allowing modern culture to infect that message before it gets here!

In some ways, this seems to be the issue at stake in I Corinthians 9:19-23. It is a great text that speaks to the heart of the apostle Paul and perhaps speaks with equal passion to the need you and I have to be sensitive to the cultural boundaries in which we live.

What initially catches my attention in this text is that Paul adamantly declares himself to be in a “state of being free” in reference “to all things.” Yet, in the spirit of being Christ to the world, he makes a volitional choice “to become a slave” to all. He emphatically adds “myself” to the sentence to remind us of his own need to make a decisive move in his life that has as its purpose “to win more.” 

The structure of this paragraph is such that it keeps the careful reader of the text focused on the idea of “in order that I might win more.” Six times he uses a Greek conjunction that most often denotes purpose – often translated in order that. The first five of those six phrases, the same verb is used – a verb whose basic meaning is “to win.” In the sixth phrase, which summarizes his point, he changes verbs from “to win” to the common New Testament verb for “to save.” 

In the final verse Paul speaks to motivation again – “for the sake of the gospel.” Then in a kind of “this is my heart” statement, he speaks of the joy of it all by saying “in order that (same conjunction!) I might become a participant in its blessings.” 

Structure is crucial. If you look at the beginning, he gives up “being free” and “makes himself a slave.” If you look at the end, it is that very willingness to become a slave for the sake of the gospel that gives him joy in life. That’s not exactly the normal idea our religious culture attaches to sacrifice –but it is Paul’s.

Between “the beginning” and “the end” – there is the litany of “I became” statements that speaks to the nature of what it means “to become a slave” and to the purpose of that “slavery” which is “to win some.” 

I’m wondering today . . . how can this text become my own testimony?

When Yahweh Is King

When I read the story of the changing of the name of Joseph a Levite from Cyprus, I can’t help but wonder about my own life. If the people who know me best and saw my faith being worked out on a daily basis decided to change my name, what would it be? In the case of Joseph the Levite from Cyprus, his name was changed to Barnabas, and Luke adds in his Acts 4 :36 record, “which means ‘son of encouragement.’” For me, that’s a pretty sobering question – and one that often causes me to think about how I am “working out my salvation,” to borrow language from Philippians 2:12, 13.

Those kinds of questions lead me to think about all the names mentioned in the Bible. Had I lived during the days Scripture was being written, would my name be there? There are some remarkable people whose names play an important role – people like Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Moses, Sarah, Deborah, David, Solomon, Peter, James, John, Paul, Phoebe, the Mary list, Timothy, John Mark, Titus, . . . Those are people whose lives and ministries we remember because of their greatness.

But – do you remember Malchijah, son of Rechab? If you do, you must have an incredible knowledge of biblical names! I don’t ever remember a Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, Sunday Night Youth Group, or even summer camp lesson about Malchijah! If he were mentioned in my college and graduate school Old Testament classes, I must have been absent or not paying attention. But . . . he is mentioned in Scripture and in a positive way.

I’m not trying to start another “Prayer of Jabez like cottage industry” here, but I’m pretty impressed with Malchijah. According to Nehemiah 3:14 – he “repaired the Dung Gate; he rebuilt it and set up its doors, its bolds and its bars.” (NRSV) Just a sentence is used by Nehemiah, a sentence in the midst of some pretty impressive accomplishments (the next person mentioned repaired the Fountain Gate!) to tell me that Malchijah repaired the Dung Gate. Think how his kids might have felt at elementary school “tell me what your Dad does” day.

If his culture were like ours – even in the church – they likely associated value with function. And while we all want the local sewer system to work well, we tend to see being a sewer worker with less than positive acclaim. Yet he did what God called him to do – and his name is in Scripture. Not a glamorous job by any means – but an answer to God’s call in his life.

There probably were no signs with flashing lights out front announcing that Malchijah successfully completed his task. But in God’s economy, value and function are never linked. What gave him value is simply that he responded to God’s call in his life. It wasn’t what he did, but who he was. His name, by the way, means “Yahweh is King.” Apparently when “Yahweh is King,” even building a Dung Gate is a noble task!

Unusual Politics

Years ago, I remember my practical ministries professor in college, Orval M. Morgan, saying that years in which presidential elections were held were difficult years to keep the church on mission. I suspect that if he were still living, he would still say the same – perhaps even more. To merely say that this year’s (actually more than a year) political process has created tension would be to grossly understate reality. And it is far from over.

So, as Christians, how do we balance our absolute allegiance to Christ as Lord on the one hand, with all of those reminders that believers should “submit themselves to governing authorities,” (Romans 13), “honor the emperor,” (1 Peter 2:17) and Jesus’ own words when He said, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s.” (Matthew 22:21, Mark 12:17, Luke 20:25)

Of course the very apostle who urges the Roman Christians to “submit to the governing authorities” would himself be put to death because he would not obey the Roman demand to call the emperor Lord. (See F.F. Bruce, Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free, pages 441 ff.)

I understand that I nor anyone else has an easy answer to the challenge. Knowing exactly what the role of a believer who has declared that Jesus and only Jesus is Lord should be in modern western culture and its governments is a hard, but important, question.

But in re-reading William Robinson’s The Biblical Doctrine of the Church, recently, I discovered some very thoughtful advice that can, perhaps, at least set some of the parameters for us as we think about the next five months of presidential politics. His comments are in a section where he says of the church, “She is in the world, not to conform to the world, but to redeem it.” (page 115) That in itself could change to focus of lots of people were it taken to heart. But, Robinson goes on to say of the church:

• “It is clear that the church herself cannot take political shape and become another political entity over against the state.” (115)
• “It is also clear that the church cannot take national shape. She cannot become the handmaid of the nation to serve her national pride.” (116)
• “It is further clear that the church has to struggle for a Christian civilization, which it must be recognized is something quite different from the life of the church herself. A Christian civilization may be described as one in which the main principles of the Christian ethic are actualized, and in which Christians themselves are able to take on the full disciplines of the Christian life without interference from the state..” (116)

Though Robinson’s book was published in 1948 – it sounds remarkably relevant and remains something worth reading! Perhaps that suggests something about the author’s understanding of the Christian gospel and his faithfulness to proclaim it.

Whatever happens in these tension filled days of political discourse, may we all remember that when all is said and done, the church is here “to redeem” the world!