The Troy Davis case in Georgia’s long and complicated approach to death penalty cases has what seems like the whole world talking. Nothing about the case seems to be all that unusual, there are those who believe Davis actually killed the police officer and ought to be executed, and those who believe that the evidence is too shaky for such a judgment and because of that, the state took the risk of executing the wrong person. Davis claimed his innocence until the very end; while the US Supreme Court, the Georgia Supreme Court, and the State Board of Pardons refused to intervene and stop the execution.
The family of Troy Davis worked tirelessly to get the conviction overturned, or at least a new trial or evidentiary hearing. There actually was an evidentiary hearing in June 2010, but the courts upheld the conviction. The family of Officer Mark McPhail was adamant that Davis killed McPhail and seemed at least relieved, if not celebratory, when the execution finally was carried out.
There are no winners in this story. Officer McPhail left behind a wife and two small children. The execution of Davis brought to an end a life that included multiple encounters with law officials, dropping out of high school, poor work performance, a nick name “Rah” which stood for “Rough as Hell,” and being accused of shooting one other person that night, assaulting a homeless man, and murdering McPhail.
McPhail was murdered in 1991, Davis executed in 2011. Whatever else one might think about the death penalty, it can hardly be argued that the execution of Davis was a deterrent to murder. One might suggest that at least Davis would never murder again, but then his chances of getting out of jail were so negligible that he would have never murdered again anyway. While I don’t know the exact details of the cost of the execution, his twenty years on death row, and the multiple trips before the courts – the state of Georgia would hardly have spent more on a life sentence than it did in executing him. Just from the crass world of “what did it cost?” the whole thing makes little sense.
But for believers, there is a more serious issue at stake – how should a follower of Jesus view such actions of the state? Of course second year seminary students who know everything are quick to suggest that there is an answer. Depending on the social justice views of the seminary, it is either horribly wrong or exactly what God created government to do. Forget the fact that from the early church fathers to the present, pretty bright and capable biblical scholars have viewed the subject differently.
Perhaps one lesson to be learned from all of this is that these issues are complicated and while each of us may have absolute conclusions about such complicated questions, we should be careful in assuming that complicated questions have such easy answers.
Paul’s comments about government in Romans 13 are often brought into the discussion. Government is put here by God to bear the sword – protecting the innocent and punish the guilty. Believers are to respect the position of government, pay taxes, and try to stay under the radar of governing officials. What Paul doesn’t mention is what the role of believers in government should be. Again, we are confronted with an issue about which believers have not always seen eye to eye.
Obviously you won’t get the final word on these kinds of issues by reading what I write. Listening to McPhail’s aged mother you couldn’t help but feel the hurt she has experienced these past 20 years. Listening to Davis’ sister, you couldn’t help but feel the frustration she has borne for these past 20 years. Listening to the state argue that you can’t allow people to get away with killing policemen reminded me of the blessing of the safe culture I live in. Listening to supporters of Davis’ claims that he was innocent, you couldn’t help but think “what if?”
For me – and I know it is all very complicated – what seems to be the bigger issue is that as a follower of Jesus who has declared Jesus Lord, there is no room in my heart for allegiance to anyone or anything other than Jesus. In some ways, the fact that God “ordained government” is not that dissimilar to the fact that He “permitted divorce” in the life of Israel. Like divorce, government isn’t reflective of God’s intentional purpose at creation. That doesn’t mean it isn’t important, but it isn’t what He intended for human life to be like.
At some level, that means I should never depend on the government to do what God has called the church to do. That idea has implications far beyond the role of the state in the death penalty. I don’t mean that if my sense of biblical testimony as it reflects the teaching of Jesus is that the death penalty is wrong, I shouldn’t say so – but it does mean that I shouldn’t think “saying so” relieves me of the burden to bring Christ to a world that is “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd,” to use language Matthew uses to describe how Jesus saw the world. If I think the death penalty is consistent with the role of government as described by Romans, I still should not dare think that executing Troy Davis relieves us of the responsibility to find a way to tell people like Troy Davis that there is a better way.
One of the more notable preachers in Atlanta used his sermon Sunday to denounce the injustice of the execution of Troy Davis. If the clips played on the news reflect his content, he didn’t say a word about the fact that there are hundreds of young men in Georgia who, based upon their circumstances in life, could end up being another Troy Davis. The news in our city seems to daily reflect that reality. And of all the people I’ve heard saying Davis deserved to be executed, I’m yet to hear a single one say – we must find a way to stop this cycle of violence that is far too predictable these days.
I’m not happy that Georgia executed Troy Davis. I’m not happy that he very well could have been the one who killed Officer Mark McPhail. Even if I thought the death penalty was reasonable, I wouldn’t be happy that it was carried out. I’m far less happy that it is so easy to put the burden on the state when it is the body of Christ that God has called to change the world.
26 September 2011
21 September 2011
Wrestling
The conversation started out something like this. “Do you think the Bible is God’s word?” My reply was something like, “Yes, of course I do.” That reply was followed up with another question – “So you think whatever is in the Bible is really the word of God?” By now I’m beginning to think my questioner had an agenda of sorts, but I decided to answer the question any way. Hoping that I could give a one word answer and end the conversation, I simply said, “Yes.”
He wouldn’t give up so easily, and the conversation quickly included a litany of “so you believe . . .” statements that reflect a reading of the Bible as it might be seen through the lens of mid-twentieth century culture rather than an attempt to read the Bible through the lens of its own historical setting. The list of “things” I would need to agree to in order for him to believe that I believed that the Bible is the word of God was overwhelming!
This kind of conversation reminds me of why I detest labels. Had our conversation continued to the point where I would have suggested that we need to read Scripture through the lens of its writers and readers and not our own cultural settings, he would have dismissed me as one of these “liberals” who “water down” the gospel. Unfortunately, it is equally easy for me to dismiss him as one of those hopeless “fundamentalists” who abuse the gospel – maybe, to create a new term, “water up” the gospel!
I remember reading – actually have read it several times since I’ve used it as a classroom assignment – Myron Taylor’s “A Theology of the Word of God,” available in his autobiography, Preacher of the Gospel. The lecture was given at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, back in 1998. His opening sentence is remarkable: “The habit of referring to the Bible as the Word of God has disguised the fact that the expression has a multiplicity of uses in scripture.” (page 37)
Taylor then talks about what he calls “the eternal word,” “the historic word,” “the spoken word,” “the written word,” “the word of proclamation,” and “the indwelling word.” The last sentence of Taylor’s lecture is worth repeating as well, “the richness of the biblical concept of the Word of God deserves our careful and thoughtful attention.” (page 47)
So to my recent questioner, “yes, of course I believe the Bible is the Word of God, but it isn’t quite as simple as you might think!” As I heard William Willimon once say, “the Bible is a thick book.” Indeed it is, and Taylor is right – it deserves a whole lot of thinking on our part. To that I would add, “for the rest of our lives.”
One of the reasons I never think that “I’m going to work” is because I’ve spent my entire adult life employed as one call to “wrestle” with this thing we call “the Word of God.” I haven’t become rich when it comes to retirement accounts, but I have lived a decent life, rich in ways that actually matter. And in that “wrestling,” sometimes I’ve walked away with a limp.
He wouldn’t give up so easily, and the conversation quickly included a litany of “so you believe . . .” statements that reflect a reading of the Bible as it might be seen through the lens of mid-twentieth century culture rather than an attempt to read the Bible through the lens of its own historical setting. The list of “things” I would need to agree to in order for him to believe that I believed that the Bible is the word of God was overwhelming!
This kind of conversation reminds me of why I detest labels. Had our conversation continued to the point where I would have suggested that we need to read Scripture through the lens of its writers and readers and not our own cultural settings, he would have dismissed me as one of these “liberals” who “water down” the gospel. Unfortunately, it is equally easy for me to dismiss him as one of those hopeless “fundamentalists” who abuse the gospel – maybe, to create a new term, “water up” the gospel!
I remember reading – actually have read it several times since I’ve used it as a classroom assignment – Myron Taylor’s “A Theology of the Word of God,” available in his autobiography, Preacher of the Gospel. The lecture was given at Emmanuel Christian Seminary, back in 1998. His opening sentence is remarkable: “The habit of referring to the Bible as the Word of God has disguised the fact that the expression has a multiplicity of uses in scripture.” (page 37)
Taylor then talks about what he calls “the eternal word,” “the historic word,” “the spoken word,” “the written word,” “the word of proclamation,” and “the indwelling word.” The last sentence of Taylor’s lecture is worth repeating as well, “the richness of the biblical concept of the Word of God deserves our careful and thoughtful attention.” (page 47)
So to my recent questioner, “yes, of course I believe the Bible is the Word of God, but it isn’t quite as simple as you might think!” As I heard William Willimon once say, “the Bible is a thick book.” Indeed it is, and Taylor is right – it deserves a whole lot of thinking on our part. To that I would add, “for the rest of our lives.”
One of the reasons I never think that “I’m going to work” is because I’ve spent my entire adult life employed as one call to “wrestle” with this thing we call “the Word of God.” I haven’t become rich when it comes to retirement accounts, but I have lived a decent life, rich in ways that actually matter. And in that “wrestling,” sometimes I’ve walked away with a limp.
15 September 2011
Making Sense Out of Life
I tend to be a “two plus two must equal four” kind of person. I like things to make sense. What I perceive to be acts of stupidity drive me to distraction. I want things to “make sense” in the “best sense” of that phrase.
That may not be a bad approach to life if I’m talking about what the bank ATM does when I deposit a check. Or how the cash register at the grocery store accounts for my purchases. Or how my fellow commuters in Atlanta respond to traffic laws. Or even how I get from text to sermon or lesson.
But taken too far into my heart of faith – I’m not all that confident that God has called me to a life that “makes sense.” There is that troubling idea in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25 about “the foolishness of the message preached” that is supposed to be the framework for my life. If you think about it, preaching “Christ crucified” doesn’t “make sense” when you’re living in a culture that demands “signs” and “wisdom.” But is what Paul is committed to doing.
In the introductory section to Hannah’s Child: A Theologian’s Memoir, Stanley Hauerwas speaks to this challenge by saying, “I have, moreover, tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.” In a bit of a paradox, that “makes sense” to me. Faith in God creates an approach to life that is, without doubt, “senseless” unless God is really who He claims to be.
The “unintelligible life if God doesn’t exist” I’m called to live might make me love my enemies rather than getting even with them. It might even cause me to be a generous giver of resources rather than saving them for my own rainy day. It might challenge me to be more reflective about the privilege of where I was born. After all, becoming a Christian where I was born was a lot easier than it would have been had I been born in Tehran. Recognizing that privilege, I might even become more understanding of the non-Christian world. Who knows – I could start praying that the geo-political decisions of my own government would quit making it so easy for Muslims to dismiss Christianity as nothing more than an extension of American foreign policy.
The “unintelligible life if God doesn’t exist” is going to call me to realize that saying “Jesus is Lord” is a call for absolute allegiance to this Nazarene as Lord. It probably isn’t going to make sense all the time – but it will make sense to God.
I’m probably going to always look at the check I get when eating out. I’ll always want it to “add up” and “make sense.” But when it comes to the tip – I want to be viewed as living an “unintelligible life” – even when the service isn’t that good. That’s a starting place for a guy whose brain loves for life to “make sense.”
That may not be a bad approach to life if I’m talking about what the bank ATM does when I deposit a check. Or how the cash register at the grocery store accounts for my purchases. Or how my fellow commuters in Atlanta respond to traffic laws. Or even how I get from text to sermon or lesson.
But taken too far into my heart of faith – I’m not all that confident that God has called me to a life that “makes sense.” There is that troubling idea in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25 about “the foolishness of the message preached” that is supposed to be the framework for my life. If you think about it, preaching “Christ crucified” doesn’t “make sense” when you’re living in a culture that demands “signs” and “wisdom.” But is what Paul is committed to doing.
In the introductory section to Hannah’s Child: A Theologian’s Memoir, Stanley Hauerwas speaks to this challenge by saying, “I have, moreover, tried to live a life I hope is unintelligible if the God we Christians worship does not exist.” In a bit of a paradox, that “makes sense” to me. Faith in God creates an approach to life that is, without doubt, “senseless” unless God is really who He claims to be.
The “unintelligible life if God doesn’t exist” I’m called to live might make me love my enemies rather than getting even with them. It might even cause me to be a generous giver of resources rather than saving them for my own rainy day. It might challenge me to be more reflective about the privilege of where I was born. After all, becoming a Christian where I was born was a lot easier than it would have been had I been born in Tehran. Recognizing that privilege, I might even become more understanding of the non-Christian world. Who knows – I could start praying that the geo-political decisions of my own government would quit making it so easy for Muslims to dismiss Christianity as nothing more than an extension of American foreign policy.
The “unintelligible life if God doesn’t exist” is going to call me to realize that saying “Jesus is Lord” is a call for absolute allegiance to this Nazarene as Lord. It probably isn’t going to make sense all the time – but it will make sense to God.
I’m probably going to always look at the check I get when eating out. I’ll always want it to “add up” and “make sense.” But when it comes to the tip – I want to be viewed as living an “unintelligible life” – even when the service isn’t that good. That’s a starting place for a guy whose brain loves for life to “make sense.”
07 September 2011
Almost Bible
For a number of years, my study partner and I were privileged to go up to Cherry Log Christian Church in Ellijay, Georgia, where once in the spring and once in the fall, the great preacher, Dr. Fred Craddock, would hold seminars on preaching. It was always a wonderful experience and we always left there more committed to the ideal of preaching than ever.
One time the topic was something like “the challenge of preaching in our world.” Craddock talked about a lot of issues that day – all of which I could identify with but the thing that he said that has stuck in my mind ever since then is that one of the challenges of preaching today is “that there is an awful lot of ‘almost Bible’ out there.”
A few weeks ago I was reading One Life by Scot McKnight. It is an overview of the life of Christ and its implications for discipleship, born in the classroom where McKnight taught Life of Christ at North Park University in Chicago. There’s a phrase in the book that reminds me of what I learned from Craddock. McKnight describes it as reworking a phrase from Flannery O’Connor. Here’s how McKnight puts it: “That’s right, but it just ain’t right enough.” (page 62)
Put those two ideas together and somehow I’m thinking that “almost Bible just ain’t right enough.” Yet, most of us reading this are living and studying; teaching and preaching – bearing witness of our faith where what I describe as the “civic Jesus” is much better known that the Jesus of Scripture.
And that is, to say the least, quite a challenge. How do we manage to stand against the “commonly held view of Jesus” in our culture and dare suggest that there is a Jesus in Scripture who stands over and beyond this “civic Jesus?”
Scott Peck, the psychiatrist who came to faith later in life, once suggested that the Jesus of Scripture may be among the best kept secrets in all of Christianity. I’ve not taken a scientific survey about that question, but he may have been on to something.
Paul’s way of talking about this was simply to say, “we preach Christ, and Him crucified.” (I Corinthians 1:18-25) Clearly in that text he is refusing to market the Jesus story to the demands of his marketplace – for Jews, it was signs; for Greeks, wisdom. But Paul won’t go down those roads – and sticks to this rather unpopular and often unbelievable story of “Christ, and Him crucified.”
There is an awful lot of “almost Bible” that isn’t quite “right enough.” God has called us to be His witness – and a good witness tells the truth!
One time the topic was something like “the challenge of preaching in our world.” Craddock talked about a lot of issues that day – all of which I could identify with but the thing that he said that has stuck in my mind ever since then is that one of the challenges of preaching today is “that there is an awful lot of ‘almost Bible’ out there.”
A few weeks ago I was reading One Life by Scot McKnight. It is an overview of the life of Christ and its implications for discipleship, born in the classroom where McKnight taught Life of Christ at North Park University in Chicago. There’s a phrase in the book that reminds me of what I learned from Craddock. McKnight describes it as reworking a phrase from Flannery O’Connor. Here’s how McKnight puts it: “That’s right, but it just ain’t right enough.” (page 62)
Put those two ideas together and somehow I’m thinking that “almost Bible just ain’t right enough.” Yet, most of us reading this are living and studying; teaching and preaching – bearing witness of our faith where what I describe as the “civic Jesus” is much better known that the Jesus of Scripture.
And that is, to say the least, quite a challenge. How do we manage to stand against the “commonly held view of Jesus” in our culture and dare suggest that there is a Jesus in Scripture who stands over and beyond this “civic Jesus?”
Scott Peck, the psychiatrist who came to faith later in life, once suggested that the Jesus of Scripture may be among the best kept secrets in all of Christianity. I’ve not taken a scientific survey about that question, but he may have been on to something.
Paul’s way of talking about this was simply to say, “we preach Christ, and Him crucified.” (I Corinthians 1:18-25) Clearly in that text he is refusing to market the Jesus story to the demands of his marketplace – for Jews, it was signs; for Greeks, wisdom. But Paul won’t go down those roads – and sticks to this rather unpopular and often unbelievable story of “Christ, and Him crucified.”
There is an awful lot of “almost Bible” that isn’t quite “right enough.” God has called us to be His witness – and a good witness tells the truth!
25 August 2011
Faith
My younger daughter, knowing of my affection for reducing the Christian gospel to a pithy phrase on a church sign, sent me a text this weekend to add to my collection. Here’s what the church sign said, “I seek not for a faith that moves a mountain but faith that moves me.” She apparently has been listening to Dad over the years, and commented, “Wouldn’t we want a bigger faith than one that affects only us?”
There have been times in my life when I’ve searched the Scriptures, seeking some basis for thinking that faith was ultimately about me. Sometimes I’ve dreamed of thinking that it would be great if I could get in my car in the morning, hit the remote control for the garage door, drive to work, go straight to the office and close the door, come out and elucidate my classes from on high, go back to the office, get in the door, drive home and hit the remote control to open and close the garage door. After all, all I want is a “faith that moves me.”
But those searches have proven to be futile, selfish, overly individualistic efforts on my part to think it is somehow all about me! Thankfully, despite the fact that I can be very comfortable locked in an office doing research in uninterrupted fashion, someone along the way taught me well that from the point of view of Jesus, He comes when “two or more are gathered in His name.” (Matthew 18:20) It really isn’t so much about “Jesus and me,” but more about “Jesus and us.”
And it is the “us-factor” that should make us want faith that “moves mountains.” When Jesus looked around at the “us-factor” of His world, He saw people who could only be described as “sheep without shepherds.” (Matthew 9:35-38) If Jesus is the paradigm for how we live out the gospel, it is hard to imagine how I could ever be too focused on what’s in this for me. There are mountains to move – and they can only be moved by faith!
When I see and hear comments like this, I wonder if a part of our problem is that we wrongly assume that the power of faith is rooted in how much faith we have, rather than the object of our faith. I don’t think it can be said better than Dean Walker said it: “The power of the Christian faith lies in the person of Christ, through whom we are redeemed and endowed with new creation by the action of God in Christ.” (Adventuring for Christian Unity, page 121)That sounds like “mountain-moving faith” if ever there was such faith!
Ours is a faith focused on community, not self. Miroslav Volf says it well when he suggests “because the triune God is not a private deity, one cannot create a private fellowship with this God.” (After Our Likeness, page 33) Faith really isn’t about “moving me,” but rather about entering a relationship with a God who is in the business of moving mountains.
Our very individualistic culture is constantly tempting us to think that the gospel is all about me. Perhaps that is one of the mountains we need to start moving – by faith!
There have been times in my life when I’ve searched the Scriptures, seeking some basis for thinking that faith was ultimately about me. Sometimes I’ve dreamed of thinking that it would be great if I could get in my car in the morning, hit the remote control for the garage door, drive to work, go straight to the office and close the door, come out and elucidate my classes from on high, go back to the office, get in the door, drive home and hit the remote control to open and close the garage door. After all, all I want is a “faith that moves me.”
But those searches have proven to be futile, selfish, overly individualistic efforts on my part to think it is somehow all about me! Thankfully, despite the fact that I can be very comfortable locked in an office doing research in uninterrupted fashion, someone along the way taught me well that from the point of view of Jesus, He comes when “two or more are gathered in His name.” (Matthew 18:20) It really isn’t so much about “Jesus and me,” but more about “Jesus and us.”
And it is the “us-factor” that should make us want faith that “moves mountains.” When Jesus looked around at the “us-factor” of His world, He saw people who could only be described as “sheep without shepherds.” (Matthew 9:35-38) If Jesus is the paradigm for how we live out the gospel, it is hard to imagine how I could ever be too focused on what’s in this for me. There are mountains to move – and they can only be moved by faith!
When I see and hear comments like this, I wonder if a part of our problem is that we wrongly assume that the power of faith is rooted in how much faith we have, rather than the object of our faith. I don’t think it can be said better than Dean Walker said it: “The power of the Christian faith lies in the person of Christ, through whom we are redeemed and endowed with new creation by the action of God in Christ.” (Adventuring for Christian Unity, page 121)That sounds like “mountain-moving faith” if ever there was such faith!
Ours is a faith focused on community, not self. Miroslav Volf says it well when he suggests “because the triune God is not a private deity, one cannot create a private fellowship with this God.” (After Our Likeness, page 33) Faith really isn’t about “moving me,” but rather about entering a relationship with a God who is in the business of moving mountains.
Our very individualistic culture is constantly tempting us to think that the gospel is all about me. Perhaps that is one of the mountains we need to start moving – by faith!
10 August 2011
Discipleship
Acts 6:7 is the first of a series of six summary statements that seem to be used by Luke to shift the story line in Acts. Like the entire collection of summaries, this one is remarkable in its description of what the church looked like. Here is what Luke says: The word of God continued to spread; the number of the disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith. (Acts 6:7, NRSV)
There are some very powerful verb ideas in that sentence – continued to spread, increased greatly, and became obedient. What makes them even more impressive in their testimony to life in the early church is that they summarize the earliest life of the church.
Think about the story line in Acts thus far. It all started with the followers of Jesus, eye witnesses to the resurrection, a bit confused about the whole Jesus thing. “Are you going to restore the Kingdom to Israel at this time?” was their question just before His ascension. Jesus’ response was simply “Go and wait.”
Wait they did – and on Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon them, these otherwise confused and frightened followers boldly proclaim “This Jesus, whom you have crucified, God has made both Lord and Christ.” A mega-church was born that day – 3000 people (likely just counting the men) were baptized. That was a pretty impressive “first Sunday” by anyone’s standards!
They continued to bear witness to the gospel, and the church continued to have an impact on its Jerusalem community. A great Christian community is being formed in which there were no persons who had unmet needs. (Again, pretty impressive by anyone’s standards.) We meet people like Joseph, whose witness was so impressive the apostles gave him a new name – Barnabas, son of encouragement. We read the unfortunate story of Ananias and Sapphira and their horribly negative witness. There is a bit of persecution of the followers of Jesus – perhaps summarized in Acts 5:41 where Luke says, they rejoiced that they were considered worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.
For the first time since Luke 22:45, the word disciples is used Acts 6:1 to describe the followers of Jesus – perhaps suggesting that in Luke’s mind, the church really is the continuation of “what Jesus began to do and teach.” (Acts 1:1) The last story of this first “act of Acts” ends with those powerful verbal idea – spreading, increasing, obeying. Apparently Luke views such ministry as the work of those who see themselves as disciples of Christ – continuing the ministry He began.
I wonder if perhaps my own life as a disciple would be more productive if I were brave enough to evaluate it with words like spreading, increasing, and obeying. Then what about those I have the privilege to influence – are they spreading, increasing, and obeying?
When I review the story line of Acts – there seems to be this rather consistent idea that the primary focus of these early Christians was simply to follow Jesus as disciples. That idea has all sorts of implications for them in their culture – as it does for us in our own culture. It transcends culture in ways that are both amazing and filled with potential.
All of this leaves me with a simple question: If I were writing a summary of my life, my discipleship for Christ – would words like spreading, increasing, and obeying be the words I would honestly use!
There are some very powerful verb ideas in that sentence – continued to spread, increased greatly, and became obedient. What makes them even more impressive in their testimony to life in the early church is that they summarize the earliest life of the church.
Think about the story line in Acts thus far. It all started with the followers of Jesus, eye witnesses to the resurrection, a bit confused about the whole Jesus thing. “Are you going to restore the Kingdom to Israel at this time?” was their question just before His ascension. Jesus’ response was simply “Go and wait.”
Wait they did – and on Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon them, these otherwise confused and frightened followers boldly proclaim “This Jesus, whom you have crucified, God has made both Lord and Christ.” A mega-church was born that day – 3000 people (likely just counting the men) were baptized. That was a pretty impressive “first Sunday” by anyone’s standards!
They continued to bear witness to the gospel, and the church continued to have an impact on its Jerusalem community. A great Christian community is being formed in which there were no persons who had unmet needs. (Again, pretty impressive by anyone’s standards.) We meet people like Joseph, whose witness was so impressive the apostles gave him a new name – Barnabas, son of encouragement. We read the unfortunate story of Ananias and Sapphira and their horribly negative witness. There is a bit of persecution of the followers of Jesus – perhaps summarized in Acts 5:41 where Luke says, they rejoiced that they were considered worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.
For the first time since Luke 22:45, the word disciples is used Acts 6:1 to describe the followers of Jesus – perhaps suggesting that in Luke’s mind, the church really is the continuation of “what Jesus began to do and teach.” (Acts 1:1) The last story of this first “act of Acts” ends with those powerful verbal idea – spreading, increasing, obeying. Apparently Luke views such ministry as the work of those who see themselves as disciples of Christ – continuing the ministry He began.
I wonder if perhaps my own life as a disciple would be more productive if I were brave enough to evaluate it with words like spreading, increasing, and obeying. Then what about those I have the privilege to influence – are they spreading, increasing, and obeying?
When I review the story line of Acts – there seems to be this rather consistent idea that the primary focus of these early Christians was simply to follow Jesus as disciples. That idea has all sorts of implications for them in their culture – as it does for us in our own culture. It transcends culture in ways that are both amazing and filled with potential.
All of this leaves me with a simple question: If I were writing a summary of my life, my discipleship for Christ – would words like spreading, increasing, and obeying be the words I would honestly use!
09 August 2011
Come and See!
I know I am a bit biased when it comes to students at Point University. So I recognize that it is possible that my loyalty to and admiration of them sometimes reflect that bias. I don’t say that as some sort of confession or apology – why would someone be in the role I am and not feel that way?
Probably, more than any other person on campus, I know our students aren’t perfect. In some ways I’m glad they aren’t, because if they were, I wouldn’t be qualified to work here! And if they were absolutely perfect, then what need would they have for coming to this institution in the first place?
I just spent Sunday afternoon through Tuesday afternoon at Woodland Christian Camp and Retreat Center with our Campus Life Ministers – the student group that works with student development at Point University to help create and nurture the Christian community that we want our campus to be. These students apply for the opportunity to serve as campus life ministers, get references, go through a process of interviews, and are chosen to make this commitment. In obvious ways, they are representatives of the kinds of students that make up this campus.
This retreat was one of the most rewarding few days I’ve spent in a while. I couldn’t be more impressed with the quality of the students with whom my office will be working this year and the commitment they all have to making Point University “the college of choice for students seeking a Christian learning community that is academically challenging, spiritually vibrant and globally engaged.” (Point University Vision Statement)
In preparation for the retreat, our summer reading assignment was "The Next Christians" by Gabe Lyons. Our theme for the year is “Renewing and Restoring: How Things Ought to Be.” We talked a lot about the implications of that book and its message on how we do ministry this year. Interestingly, Lyons calls the kinds of Christians he believes will be crucial in transforming our world “restorers.” Among the qualities of “restorers” as he sees it are that they are:
Provoked, not offended
Creators, not critics
Called, not employed
Grounded, not distracted
In Community, not alone
Countercultural, not “relevant.”
I wish that all the critics of young adult Christians in our culture could have heard our discussions about these six statements. I especially wish all the critics of Point University could have listened in to our discussion. As Paul describes it in Ephesians 3:20, 21 – God can work through young adults like this “far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think.”
Are Point University students fully mature and absolutely perfect? No. But the simple truth is that they never have been. I recently saw a letter written to students at Atlanta Christian College by President Redmon in 1968. It was in response to the fact that even back then in the good old days, students weren’t perfect. One line from the letter makes that obvious: “Some have broken college rules and have engaged in conduct unbecoming of Christians.”
I have no idea who those particular students were – it was written before my own student days. It could have, however, been written during my student days; and while we tend to talk about our covenant more than we do rules, it could be written today. That’s the story of all humans – and to pretend otherwise, especially to pretend that our own struggles didn’t exist, is to live with blinders that betray the truth.
Our Covenant for a Christian Community introduces life at Point University identifying several issues that are foundational to what we want to see happen on our campus. Words and phrases like young Christian adults, maturity, community, redemptive, spiritual oversight, and openness to growth describe how we hope to advance the Kingdom of God, both on our campus and around the world.
If what I saw the past few days at are treat is indicative of what this final year on the East Point campus for the traditional program will be like, then I have to say Paul was right – it is more than we can “ask for or think about.”
Probably, more than any other person on campus, I know our students aren’t perfect. In some ways I’m glad they aren’t, because if they were, I wouldn’t be qualified to work here! And if they were absolutely perfect, then what need would they have for coming to this institution in the first place?
I just spent Sunday afternoon through Tuesday afternoon at Woodland Christian Camp and Retreat Center with our Campus Life Ministers – the student group that works with student development at Point University to help create and nurture the Christian community that we want our campus to be. These students apply for the opportunity to serve as campus life ministers, get references, go through a process of interviews, and are chosen to make this commitment. In obvious ways, they are representatives of the kinds of students that make up this campus.
This retreat was one of the most rewarding few days I’ve spent in a while. I couldn’t be more impressed with the quality of the students with whom my office will be working this year and the commitment they all have to making Point University “the college of choice for students seeking a Christian learning community that is academically challenging, spiritually vibrant and globally engaged.” (Point University Vision Statement)
In preparation for the retreat, our summer reading assignment was "The Next Christians" by Gabe Lyons. Our theme for the year is “Renewing and Restoring: How Things Ought to Be.” We talked a lot about the implications of that book and its message on how we do ministry this year. Interestingly, Lyons calls the kinds of Christians he believes will be crucial in transforming our world “restorers.” Among the qualities of “restorers” as he sees it are that they are:
Provoked, not offended
Creators, not critics
Called, not employed
Grounded, not distracted
In Community, not alone
Countercultural, not “relevant.”
I wish that all the critics of young adult Christians in our culture could have heard our discussions about these six statements. I especially wish all the critics of Point University could have listened in to our discussion. As Paul describes it in Ephesians 3:20, 21 – God can work through young adults like this “far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think.”
Are Point University students fully mature and absolutely perfect? No. But the simple truth is that they never have been. I recently saw a letter written to students at Atlanta Christian College by President Redmon in 1968. It was in response to the fact that even back then in the good old days, students weren’t perfect. One line from the letter makes that obvious: “Some have broken college rules and have engaged in conduct unbecoming of Christians.”
I have no idea who those particular students were – it was written before my own student days. It could have, however, been written during my student days; and while we tend to talk about our covenant more than we do rules, it could be written today. That’s the story of all humans – and to pretend otherwise, especially to pretend that our own struggles didn’t exist, is to live with blinders that betray the truth.
Our Covenant for a Christian Community introduces life at Point University identifying several issues that are foundational to what we want to see happen on our campus. Words and phrases like young Christian adults, maturity, community, redemptive, spiritual oversight, and openness to growth describe how we hope to advance the Kingdom of God, both on our campus and around the world.
If what I saw the past few days at are treat is indicative of what this final year on the East Point campus for the traditional program will be like, then I have to say Paul was right – it is more than we can “ask for or think about.”
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