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In preparing for Advent and our participation in the Advent Conspiracy I have been reading and thinking about the way we worship at Christmas. First of all, we hardly worship at Christmas in any formal sense. I remember the one year Christmas fell on a Sunday and the general consensus was to cancel church…cant let Jesus get in the way of Christmas…ok, got the sarcasm out of the way.

I have appreciated Bill McKibben’s little book on the hundred dollar holiday because he reminds us that most of our traditions are fairly modern and cultural. His point is that there is probably not a RIGHT way to celebrate Christmas.

In light of that…it seems that we could drop almost all of our family traditions and not actually lose anything in the celebration of God becoming a man in Jesus to bring salvation to his people, peace to the world and to rule his kingdom. Is that true?

What can we not NOT do at Christmas if we are going to tell the real story and celebrate the real thing?

Sick by faith

Its hard being sick as a Pastor. Im sure its hard for everyone to be sick. We men in particular tend to be whiners when dont feel well, dont we? But for us Pastors, sickness is one thing that truly attacks our personal idolatries.

Photo 1

I can’t be very productive when sick. I can’t visit Mrs Dillon because my cold would be terrible for her cancer battle. I can’t really even make phone calls because I sound silly and have very little voice, so the conversation is all about my cold.

I am a productivity addict, which is a synonym for Pastor. Somehow I am able to explain every little piece of my day by how it advances SMCC or the kingdom in general. But can I be sick by faith? Can I just lay down and trust that Jesus is ruling all things well? Can I log off and believe that God is pleased with me because of Jesus and not because I get my sermon done on Monday? Can I follow a good Biblical pattern and, after having worked extra days this last week, take one off to rest?

Maybe after I finish this one more task.

IMG_0252I got a copy of our church 2010 budget this morning. It is a great and comforting thing to know that even in a down economy we are giving more as a people to the mission of God in our community and are giving away more as a church than ever before. Those are important numbers for a church. But money is not the currency that matters in God’s economy.

In fact, counting money as the primary currency of our world leads either to the negative values of greed and waste, as Wendell Berry has warned…

The dominant response, in short, is a dogged belief that what we call the American Way of Life will prove somehow indestructible. We will keep on consuming, spending, wasting, and driving, as before, at any cost to anything and everybody but ourselves…This belief was always indefensible—the real names of global warming are Waste and Greed—and by now it is manifestly foolish. “Faustian Economics”

…or to the seemingly positive, but just as demonic values of personal peace and affluence, as Francis Schaeffer warned to many years ago…

Personal peace means just to be let alone, not to be troubled by the troubles of other people, whether across the world or across the city. Affluence means an overwhelming and ever-increasing prosperity—a life made up of things and more things—a success judged by an ever-higher level of material abundance. “A Christian Manifesto”

In God’s economy, the currency is righteousness and it all belongs to Jesus. Jesus is the heir to all the currency of God. Gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay and straw…it all belongs to Jesus. Life, death, things present and things to come…it all belongs to Jesus…and we belong to Jesus. That is the good news. We are co-heirs with Christ of all that is valuable in this life and in the life to come. The righteousness of Jesus is counted to our credit by grace alone through faith alone.

So, what do we count in God’s economy. We count the active passivity of faith in the finished work of Jesus. We count submission to the declaration of God that all is ours and we are Jesus’. We count the spending of the currency of God for the mission of God.

When we count those things alone, we will see the wealth accumulate. The wealth of conversion and baptism, the wealth of healed relationships and mended wounds, the wealth of generosity, the wealth of contentment and stewardship, the wealth of social justice…

What else? What does it look like to spend God’s money?

Stories that begin with so start in progress, like a tv show that starts, “last time on…” Stories that begin with so feel like you’ve already missed something good, like when someasks “So, were did you see the game last night?” Stories that begin with so invite us into something that is bigger than we are, like the church which has existed for centuries before there were blogs, video, tweets and status updates. Stories that begin with so remind us that what came earlier in our lives does not have to dictate what comes after, like the Bible’s promise that we are now a new creation. Stories that begin with so put all things in proper perspective reminding me that I am not the self sufficient sovereign of the universe, like when God begins the Bible by assuming himself, without offering any explanation to me.

So…tell me a story.

The Apostle Paul gives a fairly angry rant against making too much of men and their sermons in the first few chapters of 1 Corinthians. He insists that a fine delivery and clever presentation can at times hide the foolish glory of the cross of Christ. AND it is the simple truths that God died to take away our wrath, bear our guilt, break our addictions, defeat our enemies and wash away the filth of our sin which the Spirit of God uses to transform our hearts.

There is no way that Paul was advocating bad form but good content. The letter of 1 Cor itself is a master work of rhetoric. His point is well made in the sense that we often fall for bad content because we are drawn to the preaching or the preacher. Thus, the delightful picture of Mr. Olsteen. Though he is a strange example in my view because he is actually quite horrible as a presenter. It is a odd, fairly monotone, memorized presentation of material that varies between bad theology and good heresy. But I disgress.

I remember hearing JP Morland argue for a team of preachers in the local church by saying that no one could preach more than 25 good sermons in a year.  That coming from a philosopher. I dont know an actual preacher who would agree with the number. Maybe that is because we would have to admit that we preach a dozen bombs a year :) But there is some truth here. Delivery, form and presentation will fail far more often than we would like. Sorry. Im not a very good judge of my own sermons. I often feel that far more are bad than others seem to think and I feel that others are far kinder than the sermon actual warrents.

But back to Paul’s point. The message of the cross, while foolishness to those who are perishing, is the message that the Spirit of God uses to convert sinners and mature saints. Be faithful to the message preachers. If you are on the receiving end of the preaching event, insist on the good message and encourage the messenger to improve. On the preaching of bad sermons…well, they are unacceptable and they happen far more often than we care to admit. Praise God for his grace as we preach together.

More tomorrow on bad preaching versus good video.

Some years ago, Princeton trained Seminary Professor Cornelius Van Til wrote an autobiographical essay entitled, “Why I  Believe in God.” In his conclusion he summarizes his story and his understanding of Scripture as to present a final conflict between God, who claims to be self-existent and authoritative, and ALL people, who claim to be authoritative and adequate to judge both God’s existence and his morality. That conflict cannot be removed. And that conflict is ultimately between God and a fool (Bible’s word, not mine).

I hold that belief in God is not merely as reasonable as other belief, or even a little or infinitely more probably true than other belief; I hold rather that unless you believe in God you can logically believe in nothing else. But since I believe in such a God, a God who has conditioned you as well as me, I know that you can to your own satisfaction, by the help of the biologists, the psychologists, the logicians, and the Bible critics reduce everything I have said this afternoon and evening to the circular meanderings of a hopeless authoritarian. Well, my meanderings have, to be sure, been circular; they have made everything turn on God. So now I shall leave you with Him, and with His mercy.

Here is a fascinating mock conversation discussing the kind foolishness (Bible’s word, not mine) that we believe and sometimes give our approval by accomodating.

Allen:  I am an atheist and evolutionist.  Prove to me there is a God.
Paul:   I do not think I can do that, because of your presuppositions.
Allen:  Why not?
Paul:  Because your presuppositions will not allow you to examine without bias the evidence that I present to you for God’s existence.
Allen: That is because there is no evidence for God’s existence.
Paul:  See?  There you go.  You just confirmed what I was stating.
Allen:  How so?
Paul:  Your presupposition is that there is no God; therefore, no matter what I might present to you to show His existence, you must interpret it in a manner consistent with your presupposition: namely, that there is no God.  If I were to have a video tape of God coming down from heaven, you’d say it was a special effect.  If I had a thousand eye-witnesses saying they saw Him, you’d say it was mass-hysteria.  If I had Old Testament prophecies fulfilled in the New Testament, you’d say they were forged, dated incorrectly, or not real prophecies.  So, I cannot prove anything to you since your presupposition won’t allow it.  It is limited.
Allen: It is not limited.
Paul:  Yes it is.  Your presupposition cannot allow you to rightly determine God’s existence from evidence — providing that there were factual proofs of His existence.  Don’t you see?  If I DID have incontrovertible proof, your presupposition would force you to interpret the facts consistently with your presupposition and you would not be able to see the proof.
Allen:  I see your point, but I am open to being persuaded, if you can.
Paul:  Then, I must ask you, what kind of evidence would you accept that would prove God’s existence?  I must see what your presuppositions are and work either with them or against them.

Taken from CARM

Grandma’s quilts from last week’s sermon…the Texas Star and the beautiful Patchwork Quilt.

starpatch

We are…Patchwork Saints

Some time ago, a few blog sites had an interesting interaction about life after having left the church. The series, team written by popular emergent type bloggers, where enttitled, “The People Formerly Known as…” In the series people “formerly known as the congregation” (that is, they left the church) write back to their pastors. Then, the people “formerly known as the Pastor” rant back. To some degree its all unfortunate bitter garbage and we would hope the grace of Jesus could mend the tears in the hearts of people. But, also unfortunately, we live in a fallen world with saints who are not yet sanctified. I think we can all resonate with some of these pains and comments.

For my friends in Santa Margarita, as you read this, ask yourselves, “What would be different about these interactions if we believed we were saints together on the way to heaven?”

People formerly know as the Pastor

The People Formerly Known As The Pastor wrestled with conflicting ego issues. Some felt the rush of power over people. Some even said that in order to get to God, you had to go through us…Being charged with the eternal well-being of souls is heady stuff. And, sadly, it went to our heads. We became commanders rather than servants. We liked the feeling of bossing people around…in the name of the Lord, of course. When you confronted us with our spiritual abuse of you, we were quick and smooth, savvy and cunning, and we made you feel like it was all your fault. On the other hand, others of us were scared to death of you. You gave us our paycheck. You gave us benefits. Unknown to us, you called us to your church in order to get your way. We thought we were authentically praying to God, “Your will be done…,” but it became apparent that the will of God was the will of those who had the money. We became people-pleasers at the cost of our own dreams. Eventually the commanders among us got kicked out of the church and the fearful among us got scared out. Selling shoes looked mighty appealing.

The People Formerly Known As The Pastor discovered somewhere in “doing church” that they were being paid as surrogates for the congregation’s spirituality…People seem to tell others more about their pastor(s) than about Jesus, their Savior. Of course, this made pastors feel good and loved and valued. Then it dawned on us, we were feeling good for all the wrong reasons. We were dynamic communicators, we awed people with exegetical biblical wonders, we spoke notebooks full of outlines with cute stories and precise principles and timely applications. We “rightly handled the word of truth” as a magician handles his tricks. What a one-man show. Little did we realize that all our song-and-dance additions overshadowed the eternal Word itself.

John Frye

The people formerly know as the congregation.

We grew weary from your Edifice Complex pathologies – building projects more important than the people in your neighbourhood…or in your pews. It wasn’t God telling you to “enlarge the place of your tent” – it was your ego. And, by the way, a multi-million dollar, state of the art building is hardly a tent.

We no longer buy your call to be “fastest growing” church in wherever. That is your need. You want a bigger audience. We won’t be part of one.


You offered us a myriad of programs to join – volunteer positions to assuage our desire to be connected. We could be greeters, parking lot attendants, coffee baristas, book store helpers, children’s ministry workers, media ministry drones – whatever you needed to fulfill your dreams of corporate glory. Perhaps you’ve noticed, we aren’t there anymore.

Bill Kinnon

Again, I say, Jesus heals, Jesus restores, Jesus knits back together what was once torn. Have hope my friends. Have hope.

image017The biblical call for parents, particularly fathers, to disciple their children raises some significant questions in the Evangelical church. This is so particularly because we hold so tightly onto the right of the child to make their own profession of faith and practice. To this I say, “Amen!” But I ask what will we be held accountable for with our children? Is the necessity of their personal profession absolve us of our parental and priestly responsibility to raise children who will walk with Jesus as adults and who will, in turn, raise children who walk with Jesus?

At what age do we allow them to make their own decisions about faith? Church attendance? Should we allow them to make those decisions on their own any earlier than we allow them to make academic decisions on their own?

George Whitefield puts the screws to fathers when he writes:

Persons are generally very liberal of their invectives against the clergy, and think they justly blame the conduct of that minister who does not take heed to and watch over the flock, of which the Holy Ghost has made him overseer: but may not every governor of a family, be in a lower degree liable to the same censure, who takes no thought for those souls that are committed to his charge? For every house is as it were a little parish, every governor (as was before observed) a priest, every family a flock; and if any of them perish through the governor’s neglect, their blood will God require at their hands.

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