Deep Breaths

While in Italy and Greece back in March with a group of students, I had several conversations with our tour guide, who was a native of Florence, Italy and well educated. He also was very interested in current events and on more than one occasion, he asked me “What’s wrong with your country?” He would also say, “Do Americans realize that what happens in their government impacts us as well?”

Who among us hasn’t wondered of late, “What in the world is going on?” The Rasmussen poll of likely voters for the time period of 21-25 August says that 31% of likely voters think the country is headed in the right direction; 62% on the wrong track. In early July the “wrong track” number was as high as 70%. Few people seem to think either option for president is particularly encouraging.

In some of the conversations I hear, it seems like Chicken Little was correct – the sky is falling!

What’s a believer to do?

Take a deep breath.  That would be a good place to start.

In Colossians 1:15-20, we read what likely was – at least in part – an early hymn the church sang. When I think seriously about the socio-cultural reality of following Jesus in first century Greco-Roman culture, I’m a little embarrassed at how easy it is to think “the sky is falling” in my culture.

The hymn has two dominant ideas: Jesus’ superiority to all created beings in verses 15, 16, and His superiority as head of the church and God’s sole source of reconciling sinners to Himself in verses 18-20. Standing right in the middle of those two massive theological ideas is verse 17: “And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” (ESV)

With emphatic language, Colossians 1:17 declares the superiority of Christ and His power to sustain the world He created. As Jerry Sumney says in his commentary on Colossians, “the Colossians hymnic piece attributes to Christ the function of sustaining the cosmos, thereby asserting that the whole cosmos and all the being in it are continually dependent upon him for their very existence.” (Colossians: A Commentary, 90)

My pastoral take on what Paul is suggesting, in reasonably decent southern lingo sounds something like this: “Take a deep breath: As long as God wants the world here, it will be here. When God decides time is up, not a thing my worrying can do to stop that.” And even then I don’t think the long-term plan of God is destruction, but renewal and restoration of creation to its God-intended purpose. 

What if we who truly believe that Jesus is the agent through whom the world came in to being and is the head of the church and in fulfilling those roles he “holds the cosmos together” – what if we started modeling our hope – steadfast assurance – that what we have given to God, He has the capacity to keep until that day of renewal? (2 Timothy 1:12) 

 

What if instead of “the sky is falling” we were looked upon as people of hope?

Then the words of 1 Peter 3:15 would come alive as Peter intended them: “in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you: yet do it with gentleness and respect.” (ESV)

Unless we are modeling hope – there’s no reason for anyone to ask about our lives.

Take a deep breath!

Appearances Only

These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made

religion and asceticism and severity to the body,

but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.

Colossians 2:23, ESV

Look at nearly any moral challenge and surrounding it you can find a plethora of rules we humans have made up to prevent that moral challenge from defeating us or our culture. While it seems that the Bible does suggest that the role of government has something to do with preventing culture from completely descending into chaotic immorality – I’m yet to find anything in Scripture that would suggest that the government is our solution.

The words at the top of this page are from Paul’s Epistle to the Colossians. After a fairly lengthy warning to them (beginning in 2:8) about not being taken captive by “philosophy and empty deceit,” he finally brings the argument to its intended challenge: your man made approaches to being what God made humans to be won’t work. "Shadow" is not "substance."

He even notes some of their “rules”: “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch.” Take those words literally and out of context and no one can follow Jesus. Everyone reading this little devotion has handled, tasted, and touched something today – if you aren’t doing so the very moment. Three strikes and you’re out.

But you may protest and declare, “No one thinks that’s what he meant.” May be not, but the moment I begin to regulate the Christian faith with rules, I’m doing precisely what Paul makes abundantly clear is ludicrous. It’s fine for government to make up the necessary rules. No doubt, for example, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was necessary. But do you really think it stopped racism? The racial tension in our culture is a serious issue right now.

That doesn’t mean the government failed in passing those “rules” about racism. But it does mean that the answer to that problem – or any other moral problem we encounter – is Jesus, not a rule. It means when we let “the rules” do what the gospel is for, we fail. When Paul wrote to Philemon about the problem of the run-away slave Onesimus, who by the way was from Colossae, he says, “I prefer to appeal to you . . . so that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord.”

The intent of the gospel, you see, is not to regulate human behavior but to transform human hearts. Rule makers can regulate behavior to the extent they can enforce them. The Gospel can transform hearts in ways that change all of life.

Recently I was in a session focused on helping employees provide more Christ-like service to those around us. We were shown a series of pictures of empty spaces – classrooms, dining halls, coffee shop, ball fields, etc. Then we were asked – as the pictures kept rotating on the screen – how could serving with a Christ-like spirit impact or change each of us – since in a few days those empty spaces will be filled with students.

That is such a great question – and one that every follower of Jesus ought to ask on a regular basis. I wrote down two things: [a] "do this out of transformation, not to meet a performance review;" and [b] "being built up flows out of building others us.”

I think that is actually the very question we should ask ourselves about our own lives, our own communities, our own country, and our own church’s engagement with the world as we know it. Electing a candidate who will enact all the right laws is not our greatest need. Our greatest needs is Christ-like behavior on the part of believers who in turn discover ways to transform culture, not seek to regulate it.

Notice what Paul said – these “rules” may “have the appearance” of power to change the world, but ultimately are “of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.”

If early Christians, with such limited resources, could “turn the world upside down” (Acts 17:6) in their generation – just think what we could do if we decided to really take the power of the gospel seriously!

Redemptive, Not Permissive

Maybe you remember that old fashioned theological word – propitiation. In many modern translations it gets easier to pronounce, and probably more likely understood, with the phrase “atoning sacrifice.” For example, “He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:2) It seems so obvious that it can’t be missed – but atonement has to do with sin.

In Brian Zahnd’s Water to Wine, he describes Francis of Assisi as one who “could uncompromisingly denounce systemic sin, while extending genuine compassion to the people caught in its pernicious web. To be a prophetic witness against systems of sin and a preacher of God’s pardon for sinners at the same time is the peculiar grace at which Francis excelled and to which the church is called.” (Kindle, Location 1484)

In our culture right now it seems that the church is often viewed as excelling at “uncompromisingly denouncing systemic sin,” but not so good at “extending genuine compassion to the people caught in its pernicious web.” I think Zahnd is right when he says that is a balancing act that is not quite as easy as it may seem. 

In my life as a believer right now, it seems as though culture is pleased if we are “preachers of God’s pardon for sinners” but not so pleased if we “denounce systemic sin.” But like noted above about atonement, grace has to do with sin. If it weren’t for sin, atonement nor grace would be on our radar screens. We seem to be living in one of the terrible times in human history where people think killing each other is the proper response to anything that displeases you. Just read the metro section of the Atlanta Journal Constitution most days for all the evidence you need - and Chicago right now makes our city seem amateurish when it comes to horrendous headlines.

In my adult life and ministry contexts, I’ve always valued the need for the church (or a Christian college) to be a redemptive community. But can you be a redemptive community without being clear about sin and the need for redemption? Redemptive communities must call sin what it is – but in a way that offers God’s grace. To merely wink at sin in a dismissive manner makes us a permissive community, but not a redemptive one. Unless I’ve misread the Scripture all my life, if we don’t own up to sin for what it is, the opportunity for forgiveness isn’t there.

The idea of finding the balance between redemptive, but not permissive, is as “peculiar a grace” as is being a prophetic witness against sin as we proclaim God’s offer of pardon. As I read the gospels it seems that Jesus managed to pull off that balance at every turn. “Go and sin no more” or “go in peace, your faith as saved you” are phrases He spoke to some pretty serious sinners. He wasn’t being permissive, but redemptive.

Propitiation. Not the most common word in our religious vocabulary these days, but few words are more needed as I learn to own up to my own sin and help others do the same.