I Should Have Learned By Now...

Earlier this morning, my 10-year-old daughter finished running her third 5K.  I am as proud of her as I've been of anyone in my entire life.  For one thing, I NEVER would have done that when I was her age.  I don't think that I had a tenth of her perseverance and commitment when I was in 5th grade.  For as long as I can remember, I've had as a regular conversation partner in my head a voice that says: "You can't do that."  I've heard that voice in my head specifically related to physical fitness and health.  I've spent much of my life defining myself as lazy, unmotivated, and out of shape.  Granted, in the last few years, I've done a lot better - I've been more responsible with my eating habits and I've finished six 5K's in the last 5 years.  That's not nothing…

This morning I heard that voice again, but it wasn't about me.  It was about my daughter.  After she finished the race, she had the usual (and very rewarding) post-race euphoria and was talking about her future running plans: seven more 5K's (to give her 10 total), a 10K, and then a marathon*.  The voice in my head instantly spoke up: "she's not going to do that."  Fortunately, that voice did not leave my head.  I caught myself and said to my amazing daughter that it sounded like a great plan. 

If anybody's got a legit reason to back down, beg off,
and be lazy, it's Mary.  When she was 18 months old, we found out that she had a heart murmur and we were told that these things usually correct themselves over time.  However, after a particularly persistent FNP at her pediatrician's office insisted that we follow up about what she was hearing through her stethoscope, we made an appointment with a cardiologist.  Fast forward 18 months later, and we're taking our daughter to Baptist Hospital in Winston for open-heart surgery to correct an issue related to how the murmur 'fixed' itself.  (If you're interested, her problem is a called sub-aortic stenosis and she's most likely going to be having another surgery at some point in the next few years. Prayers appreciated.)  She came through the surgery with flying colors and was ready to play and run only 2 days afterwards. 

And now, here's my miracle of a daughter just finishing up her third 5K, each one of which required 6 or 7 weeks of training.  She's ten and the survivor of open-heart surgery.  And here I was, after journeying with her through so many things, thinking: "you can't do that."   I'm shutting that mess down now.  

I should have learned by now that my daughter is defined by her tenacity, her commitment, and a desire to accomplish her goals.  I should have learned by now that my daughter will not be limited by my own hesitation, doubt, and skepticism.  While I'm at it, I'm not going to let that voice tell me what I can and can't do anymore, either.  He's not telling the truth…

*Props to my big sister for showing me what's possible and for being such an inspiring example for my kids - you're awesome!  I think that when Mary talks about her future running goals, she's got you in mind...

Practice?! We're Talking About Practice?

As I was playing guitar one afternoon in preparation for praise team practice, I was struck by how boring practice actually is.  I mean, I've known this for a long time - I played a lot of Little League sports when I was a kid and I HATED practice.  When I began learning how to play guitar (over 20 years ago!), it was different.  I loved it, mainly because typically after a couple of hours, there was noticeable improvement, even though I'll admit that playing chord changes over and over and over again does get a little tiring.  I remember one afternoon sitting in my dorm room trying to figure out The Battle of Evermore by Led Zeppelin, slowly struggling through the chord changes.  After about 10 minutes of me playing disconnected and very rough-sounding approximations of chords, an angry voice from the floor below asked what I was playing. I can't repeat the actual wording of the inquiry.

During the first year of learning to play guitar, it got frustrating simply because there was so much I simply could not do.  After a while, my comfort level grew and I learned that by playing at least 10 minutes every day, those things that once seemed impossible would eventually be in reach. Take barre chords, for example.  These are chords that require you to hold down 5 or 6 strings on the same fret with one finger. Once you get comfortable with barre chords, it opens up a whole range of possibilities for what you can play.  But for a beginner, strengthening your hand enough to make a clean barre chord can be extremely frustrating.  I've known a couple of people who quit progressing (or playing altogether) because they simply couldn't get their barre chords to sound right.  My roommate (and first true guitar instructor) told me when I was struggling with barre chords that one day, it would simply happen.  You'd pick up the guitar thinking you couldn't play barre chords and then - all of a sudden - you were playing them.  This is exactly what happened to me.  One day, after months of working on it, I found that I was playing the chords with relative ease.  What made the difference? 

Practice.

There are good reasons why Christians talk about "spiritual practices" - those things we do to deepen and strengthen our faith:

1. Spiritual practices are not very glamorous nor do they often produce immediate results.  Years ago, I was serving in a church that was trying to start a praise service and I was asked to take the lead in putting the praise team together.  I had scheduled a first practice with several musicians in the church and I anticipated working tediously on 2 or 3 relatively easy songs.  It was going to be a boring hour and a half of chord changes, conversations about counts and tempos and verse-chorus-bridge.  You know, practice.  I found out a few days before that the whole church had been invited to that first practice of the praise team.  Not cool.  I didn't want a bunch of people watching us stumble through those songs - how could I ask these already-hesitant musicians to put themselves through that?  By the same token, we shouldn't invite people to take a front-row seat to watch our spiritual practices.  That's time for us to pray and stumble and try and mumble the same "I'm sorry's" to God.  That's what Jesus is getting at in Matthew 6:1.
2. Spiritual practices are designed to be repetitive actions that form and shape us to 'get in the game'.  Another early song I learned was Gallows Pole (by Led Zeppelin as well).  The chord changes are very fast in that song and by learning those changes, it helped me to learn how to move rapidly when playing.  But it took playing those chords over and over and over again.  If I had only tried to play that song a couple of times and then gave up because I didn't seem to be getting anywhere, my playing of any other songs would have suffered as a consequence.  Taking the time to get those chord changes right in that one song had a huge impact on the rest of my guitar playing.  The same is true of our spiritual practices.  We might find journaling or centering prayer or fasting to be awkward when we first try it, but if we persevere, it can have positive impact on the rest of our life. 
3. Practice reminds us that doing something well requires work and commitment.  I don't know how many times I've had people say to me: "I wish I could play guitar. I've always wanted to learn."  I'm always polite in my responses.  I fully understand the time and commitment it takes to learn an instrument.  But, I'm tempted to say in response: "You might have wanted to play guitar.  You didn't want to learn to play guitar."  If you want to learn to play guitar (or do pretty much anything, for that matter), it can be done.  You've got to work for it.  The same is true of discipleship.  So many of us want a better prayer life, to know the Bible better, to have greater discipline or patience or humility, etc.  What we want so often is the end result, but we resist the work it takes to get there.  Why?  Because it's slow and unglamorous and it takes time and commitment. 

So, today, find a quiet place to be for a few minutes, put down the phone, step away from the screen and practice…

Waiting for the Concrete to Dry

Blogging through Galatians was a bit of a bust. It was a promising start, but I faded somewhere around the middle of the second week. I can admit it - I'm a lousy blogger. Great intentions, not so much on the follow through. But, since it's all about Jesus, grace abounds (I hope). 

And so…hello Philippians!

"I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ." Philippians 1:6

Discipleship, sometimes...

For three summers in college, I worked for the NCDOT Bridge Maintenance Division in Rowan County. For a college student, it was a good job that paid pretty well. One of the jobs we did on a fairly regular basis was patching holes on bridges, which was especially fun on Interstate 85. We'd get to the site in the morning and after no small amount of deliberation, we'd patch the hole (which took around 2 hours, if memory serves). We'd break for lunch and then…wait for 2 hours. We were responsible for closing one lane of a very busy Interstate and if you drove by our crew around 1:30 in the afternoon, you'd see us standing around waiting for the new concrete to dry.

I was especially entertained by those motorists who felt it necessary to make comment about our activity level. I remember one man in particular, leaning out of his car window with a scowl, angrily yelling: "Get to work!" Many just looked our direction and shook their heads in frustration, surely thinking about their tax dollars going to waste.

Now imagine if we had opened that lane with the patch and a motorist had found themselves hitting a sizable hole filled with wet concrete going 80 mph. So, yeah, we stood around for a couple of hours while the concrete dried. Half of our crew left to go work somewhere else and those of us who stayed behind could only clean debris off the bridge so many times. And those who were uninformed about our work yelled and fumed, not realizing that waiting was a necessary part of completing the work.

Being a Christian is a journey that takes time. It actually takes a lifetime. And some of the work that God does in/through/on us is evident: repairing potholes in our lives, removing debris, pouring a new Spirit into us. 

Then there's the work that nobody can see and that most people don't understand. Our fellow Christians might even pass by us and want to yell: "Get to work!" But if God is working on you, trying to teach you something and you start moving before you're ready due to the expectations and demands of other people who don't understand what you and God are working on, there could be a lot of trouble. 

So much that God does in and with us is not seen or understood by other people. It can be quiet, slow work. Waiting for concrete to dry work. Cleaning off debris from our bridges, again and again. And at times, it's like taking a jackhammer to the damaged places - it feels like just more brokenness in the moment, but God doesn't leave us with an empty hole. Those broken places are cleaned and filled, stronger than before.

Just remember that there's some patience required, some standing around leaning on your shovel.

Don't lose heart.

Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength… (Isaiah 40:31a)

#thestruggleisreal - Bearing/Sharing Burdens

In May and June, Toni Ruth and I (and Richard) will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians called #thestruggleisreal.  During this series, I'm going to be posting regularly with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

Galatians 6:2 - Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

I'm not sure how many times I've heard it from older people, when it comes to their family. Typically in a nursing home or from those who are dealing with long-term health issues: "I just don't want to be a burden."

I've heard several older people deploy the "I don't want to be a burden" statement like a well-aimed, highly effective guilt bomb.  Most of the time, however, this statement comes from a legitimate place of pain and a keen sense of loss.

Suddenly, it must seem, the one who has been the caregiver, the provider, the protector finds themselves in a position where the person(s) that they provided and cared for are now caring for them. This new situation brings up a mix of emotions: guilt, frustration, sadness, grief. And while there can certainly be a great deal of love, gratitude, and joy that is shared, it's also not uncommon (especially when it comes to people struggling with the early stages of dementia) for there to be feelings of resentment, distrust, and dismissiveness.  It's a very hard place to be and very hard thing to feel.

Paul teaches us that followers of the Way of Jesus need to become pros at burden-bearing.  It's a very difficult thing that Paul is asking us to do: share our burdens with another. Embrace the fact that you will need to carry someone else's burden.

I'm cool with that. In fact, doing that helps me to feel useful and needed. Within reason, of course, I ain't Superman. But, that's why Paul is speaking to the community as a whole and not just certain individuals. We are to be burden-bearing and burden-sharing. Many hands makes light work...

No, I don't need help
Why do you ask?

Unless you're talking about my burden. That's a different story. Don't worry about me, I'll be ok with this elephant that I've got precariously strapped to my back. And, no, I don't feel like talking about it. I'm happy to help you carry yours but I'm not about to let you carry mine.

That would be too personal, too needy, too weak. Which is fine for all you other people, but not for me. I've gotta stand on my own two feet.  You don't need to trouble yourself with me, you've got enough on your plate. I don't want to be a burden.

Maybe Paul didn't know what he was really asking of us, instructing us to reveal our struggles and our weaknesses to one another.  What am I supposed to do? Just blurt out my problems to the people at my church, in my small group, in my Sunday school class?

Yes.

As Christians, we are called by God to be people of Truth. And a lot of times we fail spectacularly at answering that call.  But maybe if we are honest with one another and do the hard work of sharing the burdens that we're carrying, maybe we can learn something about trust, about being humble servants like Jesus. I'm not saying that be truthful about your burdens and allowing others to help shoulder the load won't be a struggle - it will be.

But maybe in sharing one another's burdens, we begin to see some growth peeking up through the concrete that too often surrounds our hearts: some love, a little sprout of joy, the first signs of peace, a sprig of patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

As followers of the Way of Jesus, we are called to be honest with one another and to love one another in the midst of our brokenness.  To bear each other's burdens with patience and mercy and grace.  You know, just like Jesus, who took the form of a slave, carried our burdens, and gave himself for us.

What a witness that can be in our world.

#thestruggleisreal - I Gotta Work on That Whole 'Gentleness' Thing

In May and June, Toni Ruth and I (and Richard) will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians called #thestruggleisreal.  During this series, I'm going to be posting regularly with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

Galatians 6:1 - "My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness."

Some time ago, there was a somewhat controversial vote at Annual Conference1. I was sitting with a good friend of mine and some other pastors that I knew, though not very well. These colleagues were more ideologically inclined than my friend and I were and the mood on our row reflected the mood in the entire auditorium: tense. There was an exchange in the midst of the voting (which was, of course, beset by various complications, painfully drawing out the process interminably) between my friend and another pastor who had always demonstrated love and kindness, in my experience of him. In this instance, however, that charity and kindness were not on display. My friend and I, both for our own reasons, chose to abstain from the vote. The previously kind pastor lashed out at my friend in a way that is still crystal clear in my memory, accusing him of cowardice. The anger in his face and voice was surprising and I was momentarily taken aback.

Sadly, this is how many
people view Christians...

I've been in ministry long enough and have dealt with people long enough that I was not ultimately surprised by the outburst. Controversial issues and heated debates inspire passionate responses from people and I'm not naive enough to think that we can or will simply lay aside our deeply-held convictions in the midst of such debates. I was, however, disappointed. In the moment, this follower of Jesus Christ and pastor seemed to allow his commitment to one particular side of an admittedly contentious issue to dictate his treatment of a brother in Christ and colleague in ministry.

In case you think I'm coming down hard on this pastor or claiming some kind of superiority for myself, I find myself doing the same thing. Not in the same way and maybe not even out loud, but nevertheless, I will often put my theological opinions, political leanings, Scriptural understandings, even college basketball allegiances2 ahead of the fruit that the Spirit wants to bear in my life. And if I am tempted to think that simply not acting on these feelings of superiority externally gets me off the hook, Jesus is pretty clear about where the damage of sin starts.

So when I read what Paul says in the first verse of chapter 6, my thoughts immediately went to my colleague and his unloving response to my friend. If my colleague thought that my friend was in the wrong or guilty of some transgression, then his response should have been to speak to him with gentleness when he felt that he was able to do so. And honestly, in the fractured and divisive climate of the debate surrounding the UMC's response to homosexual persons, we are corporately guilty of ignoring what Paul is saying here. A large number of us are guilty of putting our agendas (theological or political) above our brothers and sisters in Christ. This is not only sad - it is disobedient. Further, it is maddening that pointing this out is often met by cries of: "well, they were being disobedient first!" Our debates and arguments reliably disintegrate into playground taunts and stunningly juvenile name-calling. To echo Paul, this ought not be so…

Here's the really frustrating thing about Jesus: when I say things like the above paragraph, I'm really comfortable putting all of that on the shoulders of other people. I'd prefer to 'take the high road' and assume that I have the right perspective and the best approach. But Jesus won't let me rest easily with my assumptions. Even if in my thoughts or assumptions I'm unloving or I'm lacking gentleness when it comes to those with whom I disagree or those whom are "detected in transgression", I'm disobeying God's clear command to me to be loving and to treat them with gentleness. The reconciliation project that God is undertaking in the world is not just for those people I disagree with - God's got a lot of work left to do in me.  So yeah, #thestruggleisreal…

1Annual Conference is the yearly gathering of United Methodist clergy and lay delegates from their particular Conference. A Conference is a geographically determined area - for example, I am a pastor in the Western North Carolina Conference, with the 'dividing line' between my Conference and the North Carolina Conference bisecting the state just west of Burlington.

2With that said, Go Heels!!!

Thursday, May 26th - Faith Working Through Love

#thestruggleisreal - I'm Going to Stop Counting The Days, OK?

In May and June, Toni Ruth and I (and Richard) will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians called #thestruggleisreal.  During this series, I'm going to be posting regularly with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

There's an inherent risk for me whenever I preach or teach on a passage from Paul. Things can get so complicated so quickly and I find myself in the middle of tangle of points and notes and side comments. Not to mention the temptation to bring in stuff from other letters, or from the Old Testament, or from the Gospels.  It gets pretty muddled and needlessly complex. This has happened this morning as I finished mapping out my sermon for Sunday. 

I tend to 'map' my sermon using boxes (I think of them as 'movable chunks') and arrows that indicate the flow.  There's nothing earth-shattering or radical or particularly unique about my sermon-writing technique, but wow, as the picture to the left indicates, Paul has a way of making a mess of my puny, little 'technique'…

There are moments of precious clarity, however.  Chapter 5 verse 6 is one of those moments: "the only thing that counts is faith working through love." Wow, that's powerful.  Of course, true to form, my questions start immediately: in what way does faith working through love 'count'? How does faith 'work'? And how does it work through love? Whose faith?

My understanding of what Paul means here, incomplete as it may be, is that it is the faith of Jesus that led him to the cross to die (see Philippians 2:5-8) makes our salvation possible and the way that saving faith 'shows up' in our lives and in the world is through the love given to us by the Holy Spirit.  The reconciling work of God - in the world, in the church, and in me - does not depend on the strength of my faith nor on the power of my love.  Both my faith in God and my love for God and others varies day to day and both are subject to fluctuations - high points and definite low points. It's a blessing that my faith and my love aren't what saves me - neither are up to the task.

It's also not my moral perfection that saves.  Righteousness is not an accomplishment, but a gift. Paul was pleading with the Galatians to not fall into a way of thinking that a person can be saved by perfect moral performance.  It's a recipe for all kinds of bad stuff and it's ultimately destructive to the community of Jesus followers (see, for example, the mess in Corinth).  I am thankful for God's grace that saves and for moments of powerful clarity in Paul that lead me to this grace.

So, brothers and sisters, whatever you're struggling with today, I want you to know that God's grace is bigger and stronger than what you're facing.  God's love is deeper than your deepest struggles and stronger than your toughest trials.  I'm praying that you might know today - in big and small ways - God's grace and love in your life. 

I feel a little like Loki after writing a sermon
on a passage from Paul..."puny sermon technique..."

Tuesday, May 24th - Struggling with the Law

#thestruggleisreal - Day 6

In May and June, Toni Ruth and I (and Richard) will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians called #thestruggleisreal.  During this series, I'm going to be posting regularly with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

I was 16 years old when I first began to read Paul's letters with serious interest. His letters inspired and intrigued me and, for some reason, the way he structured his arguments appealed to me.  This love of Paul has not abated in the slightest as I've grown older.  However, I must admit to a consistent and continual difficulty in keeping a handle on Paul's understanding of the Law (or, the Torah). Learning about Paul's Jewish roots and that he was not attempting to create an entirely new religion that would replace Judaism was helpful. However, I still struggle when teaching/preaching from Paul's letters to communicate his views on the relationship between Christians and the Law. I keep struggling, because if you're going to make an effort to understand Galatians, you have to contend with Paul's teachings about the Law.

A few years ago, a judge in Alabama caused a bit of a controversy by installing a massive monument to the Ten Commandments in the State Judicial Building. The ACLU filed and eventually won a suit against the Judge and the monument was removed. While this was a minor national controversy, it had a bigger impact on evangelical/conservative Christians, for a couple of reasons. One, what is the role of religion (and specifically the Christian faith) in public and political life in the United States? Secondly, what is the relationship between the Torah and the Christian faith? While I find the first question endlessly fascinating and could spend a lot of time dissecting that, it's the 2nd question that concerns us if we're talking about Galatians.

I have grace, I don't need to worry about sin,
right Mr. Corso?

Throughout much of Christian history, the relationship between Christians and Law has been dysfunctional - veering towards what looks like a full embrace of legalism and at times seeming to throw off any kind of moral requirements. The tension is present throughout Paul - if we are saved by grace and grace alone, what compels me to follow any kind of restrictive moral code?  If the onus of responsibility for my salvation is not on me but on Jesus Christ, then what I do with my body or my words is of no ultimate consequence, right? Well, to echo Lee Corso: not so fast, my friend! Paul's argument is that in salvation, a transformation happens. We become a new creation and our lives begin to be opened up to and guided by the Holy Spirit, which leads us away from sin and death, towards life and a Christ-centered morality, which shows up as naturally as fruit in an orchard.

In his commentary on Galatians, Richard Longenecker makes an important distinction about the relationship between the Law and Jewish Christian in the 1st century: Jewish Christians were not "legalistic…attempting to gain favor with God (i.e., be found righteous) by means of Torah observance", but they were "certainly nomistic…expressing their Christian convictions in their lifestyle in ways compatible with Jewish traditions."  Paul was arguing forcefully against legalism, which would make individuals responsible for achieving their salvation through perfect law obedience. Experience clearly demonstrates that this is impossible. And there's no wiggle room here, either.  As Paul says in 5:3-4 - "every man who lets himself be circumcised that he is obliged to obey the entire law. You who want to be justified by the law have cut yourselves off from Christ…" In other words, we are not obligated to follow the law for the sake of our salvation. And if we assume that we have to follow the ten commandments in order to be saved by God, then (1) we are not Christians, but Jews (which is not a bad thing for someone who wishes to be Jewish - it just means that you've left the Christian side of the pool) and (2) we are consequently responsible for obeying the entire Law, not just the top ten.

This doesn't mean that we can disregard the Torah or the Old Testament, though. It's not that simple.  And it doesn't mean that we don't have any moral standards at all. It just means that adherence to those moral standards doesn't save us. Our moral standards as Christians are meant to reflect the way of life in the Kingdom of God and grow out of our ongoing, living response to God's grace. Why the Law, then? It was God's way of forming and establishing the boundaries of life together for the Hebrew people. As Christians, that formation and boundary making is the work of the Spirit moving and working in and through the Body of Christ. 

Monday, May 23rd - Pulling the Thread...

#thestruggleisreal - Day 5

In May and June, Toni Ruth and I (and Richard) will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians called #thestruggleisreal.  During this series, I'm going to be posting regularly with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

Ok, so last week, I may have said that I would be posting everyday.  Well, I didn't mean every day.  Actually, I had planned to post 5 times a week, but things got kinda crazy last week, so I'm hoping for 5 this week! So, on with the posting!

I really love to teach Bible Study. Other than the sacraments, it's probably my favorite thing about serving in ministry. I don't really think that I'm particularly skilled at teaching - I don't have any discernible methodology, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about technique or strategy, and I usually don't take into consideration the reality of multiple intelligences*. Occasionally, somebody might ask me about how I teach or how I prepare lessons and I don't have all that much to offer other than read the passage/book, look at 1 or 2 commentaries, and plow through verse-by-verse. I've often told my Bible Study groups that I teach verse-by-verse because I can never decide which parts of God's Word are unimportant enough to be ignored**.

It gets pretty frustrating when trying to preach or teach on a passage in one of Paul's letters, which are fairly structured arguments. For example, I'm preaching this week on Galatians 5:16-26 and as I was beginning my study of the text this morning, I did some work on the context of my passage.  Where does if fit with the rest of the letter? How does it flow out of what comes before? Once you
start pulling that thread in one of Paul's letters, it can be kind of daunting.  Suddenly you find yourself tracing Paul's argument 2 or 3 chapters before the passage you're supposed to be focused on. I mean, go and read 5:2-15 - there's some really incredible stuff there and it all serves to set up what Paul is saying in the last half of the chapter. I'm certainly not skilled enough to preach on all of that and it's so dense that it probably wouldn't be wise to do so anyway.  Besides, there's the complicating factor that it's not the text that I'm supposed to be preaching on this Sunday.

That's the benefit of this series of posts - I can write about all the stuff that won't make it into a sermon!  So, this week most of my posts will be about things that grab my attention in 5:2-15. I hope that you find something of interest in that as well…

*I'm not proud of that, by the way

**That's actually true, but I've also used it as an excuse to cover up the fact that I often didn't do the really hard work of summarizing and condensing. 

Thursday, May 19th - Yep, I'm a Hypocrite Too...

#thestruggleisreal - Joining in the Hypocrisy

Over the next six weeks, Toni Ruth and I will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians (called #thestruggleisreal).  During this series, I'm going to make every effort to post every day with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

I definitely had one of these shirts

Way back in 1992, as a 15-year-old new Christian, I was learning how to be a part of the Christian youth sub-culture. This meant learning the boundaries - what I should say, watch, read, listen to, and wear.  I never really got too deep into all of that - I listened to DC Talk and Petra, had a few Christian t-shirts and posters, and was able to speak some of the lingo (I was, after all, "on fire for Jesus").  Much of this stuff I learned through becoming friends with my classmates in my high school's FCA program* and not  in my local church. Hewing to a cultural model and observing all of the "codes" was never really my thing.  Besides, they all seemed to have a very Southern Baptist flavor to them - kind of an ill-fit for a lifelong United Methodist.  Not talking junk about my Southern Baptist friends, I'm just not one.

Anyway, what I did pick up on quickly was that one of the WORST things that you could possibly be was a hypocrite.  Maybe a hypocrite wasn't as bad as an atheist, a believer in evolution, or a liberal (the horror!), but it was plenty bad.  One major area of concern for me and many of my Christian friends (who were always kind to me and took their faith very seriously - I'm not making fun), was our witness.  We took our witness very seriously.  It was the reason we wore the t-shirts, didn’t cuss, didn't party, asked our biology teacher about God's role in creation, etc. Besides our own potential moral failings, we were convinced that the greatest enemies of our witness as Christians were hypocrites.**

We weren't without Scriptural warrant.  For example, Jesus uses this word to great effect in Matthew 6 and 23. Paul uses the word once ('hypocrisy' to be exact) and it also carries a lot of weight. Paul's not referring to fake believers or Pharisees - he's talking about Peter.  That took no small amount of courage and perhaps a lot of foolishness as well, which Paul admitted to possessing in abundance.  Technically speaking, "hypocrite" referred to a mask that a performer would wear on stage.  Everybody knew that the mask wasn't the real face of the performer, but to reveal the true identity of the performer would shatter the illusion and ruin the narrative.  In Christian terms, a hypocrite is also a performer who wears a 'mask' and is trying to maintain a fictional narrative (one which usually serves to highlight hypocrite's moral superiority in comparison to others, while keeping the truth well-hidden).  Or as we used to say: they were 'talking the talk' but not 'walking the walk'. 

For Paul, the hypocrisy of Peter and the "other Jews" in Antioch were guilty of acting one way in the presence of the Antioch Christians and acting another way when some of James' guys showed up.  Play-acting. Being deceitful. Being two-faced.  Peter was more than happy to share table fellowship (and likely share in the Lord's Supper) with the Gentiles in Antioch, but refused to do so when those Jerusalem guys dropped by. This made Paul see red.  Paul took community very seriously.  Without unity in the church, there wasn't any hope.  By their hypocrisy, Peter and his friends were threatening the very existence of the church in Antioch.

You might as well lump me in with those guys, too. Like everybody else, I wear my fair share of masks. My 'persona' on Sunday mornings, during pastoral visits, on Facebook - is that always who I really and truly am on the inside?  Usually not.  I'm guessing that goes for you, too.  The more I turn this over in my head/heart, the more I find Tertullian's take on it to be pretty compelling.*** He thought that Paul was overreacting to Peter's actions. Maybe…who knows?  None of us were there.  I do know that before I start slinging around accusations of hypocrisy, I better be honest about my own masks…

*The Fellowship of Christian Athletes.  I probably didn't need more than two hands to count the number of actual athletes in our FCA - I definitely wasn't - but it was the only real Christian club offered by my high school.

** For the record, I still believe that a Christian witness is a powerful, important thing. However, I've grown to understand that it's less about bearing witness to my moral commitments and more about bearing witness to God's love revealed in Jesus Christ.  The Christian t-shirts of my youth didn't do a very good job of that…

***This might actually be the first time I've agreed with anything Tertullian had to say. Though to be fair, it's not like I've read a whole lot of Tertullian.

Wednesday, May 18th - Christians Shouldn't Argue(?)

#thestruggleisreal - Day 3

Over the next six weeks, Toni Ruth and I will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians (called #thestruggleisreal).  During this series, I'm going to make every effort to post every day with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

It's a typical response whenever Christians fight with one another, especially those belonging to the same denomination or local church.  "Don't fight in public! It will damage our witness - the world needs to see a unified church!"  Apparently, nobody told Paul about this. He was not shy about airing the early church's dirty laundry for everybody to see. By publicly confronting Peter "to his face…before everybody", Paul showed that he wasn't too terribly concerned with how that would impact the wider world's impression of the Church. Paul was more concerned with the Church being consistent in how it dealt with Gentile followers of Jesus.

Since I hoping to keep these blog posts relatively short, I'm going to simply post some random thoughts that have risen for me this morning as I've studied Paul's conflict with Peter at Antioch. 

1. In his commentary on Galatians, Bruce Longenecker briefly discusses some attempts by various early church Fathers to deal with Paul's public confrontation of Peter.  Tertullian thought that Paul was overreacting.  Clement of Alexandria argued that the Cephas in Galatians is not Peter the apostle, but another disciple. Origen, John Chrysostom, and Jerome all argued that the whole thing was staged(!) by Paul and Peter in attempt to bring the contested issues out into the open.  A number of Christian thinkers worked really hard to lessen or even deny the conflict between Paul and Peter.
2. We often do something similar as we think about the early church and its leaders.  For example, Christians throughout history (especially those starting new churches or movements) have made the claim that they are 'getting back' to how things were done in the early church. The thing is, the early church wasn't any holier or unified than the church has been throughout much of its history.  (I'm talking about routine local church conflicts and disputes - not those times when the Church has been truly atrocious, such as the Crusades or the Inquisition).  It's a mistake to think that the 1st century church was free from conflict and disputes and division.  And I'm guessing that they handled the aftermath much like we do: occasionally forgiving, frequently dividing, often holding on to anger, awkwardly trying to clean up the messes we make, pointing fingers, sometimes taking responsibility.
3. Paul's confrontation of Peter at Antioch has the feel of "real life" to it - we aren't told about any resolution. Hurt feelings abound and deep friendships are strained.  There are personal, theological, and political considerations in how both Peter and Paul act at Antioch. And how often do we forget Jesus' command for us to love one another or the teaching of Paul that says that "if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness"? 

That's Galatians 6:1, by the way. It seems that maybe Paul forgot about getting up in Peter's face in front of everybody, telling him that he was a cowardly hypocrite. Sounds kind of like when we talk about how much we love one another and then tear each other down behind our backs or on social media.  Conflict is part of what it means to be humans having differing experiences, differing gifts, differing weakness, etc.  

There are some questions that we might think about: how might the Holy Spirit be at work even in the midst of our conflicts? Since conflict is inevitable, how do we handle fights and arguments while staying faithful to Jesus' command for us to love one another? Where is God leading us to greater humility and loosening our grip on the dehumanizing need to "win" and the insistence on always having our point of view vindicated?

Just a quick note (in an attempt to show that I'm not totally oblivious) - I'm aware that I'm posting this during the middle of a very contentious General Conference. I definitely have thoughts and opinions about all of that, but it doesn't 'fit' very well with the spirit of this series of posts. And besides, I'm hoping to keep these posts kinda short  (relatively speaking - I know I'm long-winded) and any post about my thoughts concerning General Conference would be REALLY long. I'm also trying to keep these posts tightly connected to the sermon series that will be starting at Harrisburg UMC this coming Sunday.

#the struggle is real, Day 2

Tuesday, May 17th - A Gospel for the Gentiles

Over the next six weeks, Toni Ruth and I will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians (called #thestruggleisreal).  During this series, I'm going to make every effort to post every day with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

Acts 10 tells us the story of Cephas (Peter) and Cornelius.  The climax of this story occurs in verses 44-48.  I'll quote it in full here:

44While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. 45The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, 46for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter said, 47‘Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?’ 48So he ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they invited him to stay for several days.

Peter seems to have made the leap that Paul had also made when it comes to God including the Gentiles in the Way of Jesus.  The big, burning, controversial question that the early church grappled with (well, one of the questions they grappled with) was about who exactly could be a rescued/redeemed/saved follower of Jesus.  The assumption by most Jewish Christians was that any Gentile who wished to become a Christian must first become a Jew and accepting all that came with that.  This included circumcision, which became something of a flash point for the early church. 

After his conversion and period of several years, presumably spend in preparation for ministry, Paul emerges proclaiming a Gospel of grace, teaching that Christians were no longer under the Law.  In other words, Paul taught that salvation did not come from following the Torah, but through the death and resurrection of Jesus.  This was a major shift for the earliest Christians, many of whom saw the Way of Jesus as a fulfillment (and continuation) of God's covenant relationship with Israel, not a departure from it.  In their understanding, there was no salvation apart from becoming a Jew and accepting the way of life God had revealed through the Law.

The church agrees (eventually) to allow Paul to journey into Gentile territory and proclaim a Law-free gospel, albeit with certain stipulations: "…abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from fornication." (Acts 15:29)  Otherwise, Paul and his co-workers are granted the freedom to proclaim the Gospel to Gentiles without requiring circumcision, dietary restrictions concerning Jews and Gentiles sharing table fellowship, along with the other Jewish laws.  This doesn't stop Paul's opponents from stirring up trouble related to this controversy, but it does mean that Paul hits the road with passion and an unshakable sense of mission. 

While we don't argue over whether or not Christians have to follow the Torah in order to receive God's saving grace, 2,000 years later, we are still grappling with rules and requirements.  It's not about circumcision and dietary laws in our time, but we have our own issues to contend with and we still find ourselves struggling with boundaries, lines, and limits of inclusion/exclusion.  

Today, I challenge you to pray for those Christians who you would be tempted to put on the other side of the "fence" - people you disagree with, people who have fundamentally different theological convictions, people who you might be tempted to judge or dismiss.  Pray for God to shape and even transform your understanding, your imagination, and your heart like He did with Peter in Acts 10.  

Tomorrow, we'll see why it's possible that Peter didn't fully make that leap...

#thestruggleisreal Day 1

Monday, May 16th - Paul an apostle…

Over the next six weeks, Toni Ruth and I will be preaching a series based on Paul's letter to the Galatians (called #thestruggleisreal).  During this six weeks, starting today*, I'm going to make every effort to post every day with some brief thoughts on various passages from Galatians.  I hope that you follow along as we look for God's grace in the midst of some very real struggles!

I don't remember exactly when I learned about the difference between a disciple and an apostle, but it was sometime during college. I remember being surprised that I had never been taught the distinction because it really helps in understanding why there was a change in what this group of people was called once we leave the Gospels and head into the Book of Acts. 

Paul spent a good amount of time defending his position as an apostle in the early church.  He does this in Galatians 1, I Corinthians 9, and 2 Corinthians 10.  Paul was facing accusations from opponents about his legitimacy as an apostle.  Understanding what Paul meant when he used the term "apostle" helps us to understand how Paul viewed himself and his ministry.

The word disciple comes from the Latin word discipulus, which simply means "student".  So, the 12 disciples were such when they were with the Teacher.  After the resurrection and before he ascended, Jesus commissioned the disciples (Matthew 28:18-20, John 20:21, and Acts 1:8), sending them into the world to proclaim the Gospel through the power of the Holy Spirit.  As soon, as they were sent, they became apostles.  The word apostle comes from the Greek word apostolos, which means "messenger, envoy". Perhaps more precisely, it comes from the verb apostello, which means "to send".  So, an apostle is one who has been sent with a particular message. 

Here's the interesting thing that I'm not sure occurred to me until yesterday morning while reading Galatians 1 - the word "apostle" indicates both the authority of a designated leader and the humility of an obligated servant.  "Apostle" quickly became a title of authority in the Church.  So much so that it has historically been limited to only that first generation of Church leaders.  We might send missionaries and delegates and servants and evangelists, but we don't send apostles (not in the UMC, anyway).  But, the very word itself indicates that it is a position of humble service.  An apostle is sent by a higher authority with a message that is not their own.  Paul seems to hold these two realities in balance - having authority while at the same understanding that the message he proclaims is not one that he created, having "received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ." (Gal. 1:12)

So, for us today: even though we don't refer to ourselves as apostles, we are still sent into the world (to our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our schools, wherever) to proclaim a message that we didn't invent or create.  We go as students, as disciples - still learning, still growing, still seeking to be present with the Teacher.  We go with a message of grace and salvation that we have been blessed to receive.

So, here's a question as we begin this 6-week journey of looking for God and for good news in the midst of our very real struggles - how are you taking the message of God's love and grace into the world today? 

*ok, so I know this didn't get posted on Monday and that today is Tuesday, but better late than never, right?

Why I'm a United Methodist - 5a

In a previous church where I served, there were two women who invested a great deal of energy and care into the worship life of the church.  They were both exceptionally skilled at organizing all the 'pieces' of worship at a large church and took great care of the worship space.  I learned a great deal working with both of them and watching how attentive they were to the intricacies and subtleties of worship that most people (and even many pastors) simply don't think about.

Shortly after I left this church, the congregation decided to replace the carpet in the sanctuary.  Ever attentive to how to best care for the worship space, these two women suggested that the church purchase some carpet squares to put down during communion to reduce the drips and splatter on the carpet that accompanies serving communion by intinction (each person receives a piece of bread torn from a loaf and then that piece is dipped into a common cup).  Not a bad decision.

The first official service of worship on the new carpet was the wedding of some close friends of ours and communion was part of the ceremony.  Freshly carpeted, the sanctuary was beautiful - including the carpet squares laid down, ready for any crumbs or spills.  The couple had invited several previous ministers to assist with communion and there were many happy reunions that afternoon.  One in particular taught me a lesson about communion and only deepened my love for the Lord's Supper in the Methodist tradition.

One of the aforementioned worship leaders had son, Doug, who was mentally handicapped.  Doug's heart was so kind and joyful - it was always a blessing to see him and his smile.  Doug came forward to receive communion and when he saw one of his former ministers serving, he was so excited that he gave him a huge hug.  The pastor happened to be holding a chalice full of grape juice, which was subsequently knocked around, causing some of the juice to fly out of the cup and onto the new carpet. Not one drop hit the carpet square.

Reason Number 5a - I'm a United Methodist because everyone is welcome to the table to receive the Lord's Supper, which means that everyone has an opportunity  to experience God's hospitality and saving grace in the presence of Jesus Christ.

We can't control God's grace. As Jesus teaches us in the Sermon on the Mount, "for God makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous."  Who are we to put up obstacles in the way of people who are hungering and thirsting for righteousness? I love that in the United Methodist Church, anyone who wishes to come and receive can do so.

We can't limit God's grace.  It is very much a blessing that we Christians don't have the option to determine how much grace people receive. Talk about a disaster. If we're honest with ourselves, we'll probably admit that there are people who we feel are outside the reach of God's grace. If you don't think that applies to you, it's likely that I could list some people or groups, and for at least a couple of them, you'd say there's no hope for their redemption.  I say that because, much as I hate to admit, it's true of me too.  My ability to show and share grace is limited by my lack of faith, my immaturity, my ignorance, my sin, my need to grow in love and understanding. That's not true of God - God's grace knows no limits and God won't be thwarted by our occasional desire to keep people from receiving that grace.

We can't manage God's grace. Blood spills, bodies break, cups tip over, crumbs litter the floor - the body of Jesus and the grace of God goes where we don't plan and where we can't manage.  Thank God.  Otherwise, I might have never received that grace, over and over and over again. I'm glad that somebody welcomed me to the table and I'm blessed to welcome other people in the name of the one who saved me.

Just a quick note - those two women who so effectively organized and arranged worship at my previous church were not trying to control, limit, or otherwise manage God's grace. They simply wanted the new carpet to look nice as long as possible.