Lenten Meditation: The Both/And Gospel

Yesterday I listened to Tripp Fuller interview Andrew Sung Park on the Homebrewed Christianity podcast. I had never heard of Park before, but after hearing the interview I wanted to know more about him. According to Park's view of triune atonement, the death and resurrection of Jesus addresses both the sins of the world and the injustices of the world.

Here's a video of him speaking at the Transforming Theology session at the American Academy of Religion:



When I hear both my progressive friends and my evangelical friends talk about atonement, it's usually an either/or argument. Either the cross is only about the forgiveness of sins, or it's only a means of liberation for the marginalized. However, from what I understand of the Bible, it's not an either/or question: it's both/and. The Gospel is about both justice and justification.

First, there's justification. When the Pharisees asked why Jesus would share His meals with sinners, He replied, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2:17). Later on during the Last Supper, He tells His disciples that the bread and wine represent His body and blood, which are broken and shed "for many for the forgiveness of sins" (Matthew 26:27-28). Jesus, according to 1 John 2:2, is the "atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world."

Without the Cross, we have no hope for forgiveness. We're stuck with our sin, our guilt, and our shame. It's only through the Cross that we are free from our sins.

Ah, but what about justice? Well, throughout the Old Testament the prophets call for justice among the nations. For example, there's this prophecy Isaiah has for "the rulers of Sodom" and "the people of Gomorrah:"

"'The multitude of your sacrifices— what are they to me?' says the LORD. 'I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats. When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts? [. . .}

Wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wrong. Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.'" (1:11-12, 16-17)

Then later on chapter 10 beings with this lament:

"Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar?
To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches?" (verses 1-3)

In fact, now that I think about it, this reminds me a lot like what Jesus says to the Pharisees:

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former." (Matthew 23:23)

If Jesus loves the spiritually marginalized, then I'm pretty sure He wants us to love the socially marginalized, too.

Now I'm only an amateur theologian at best, but if I'm reading these verses correctly it seems like justice and justification are two sides of the same coin. You cannot have one without the other, or else it's not really the Good News.

Monday Morning Awesomeness: 03/28/11

Today's Monday Morning Awesomeness comes from The Civil Wars.



Seriously, you need to get their album now if you haven't already!

Lenten Meditation: Enough Grace For Everyone

photo © 2009 Andrew | more info (via: Wylio)
Sometimes I like to imagine what Jesus' disciples unrecorded words might have been. For example, here's how I imagine how they probably reacted when Jesus invited Matthew to follow Him:

PETER: Oh, look, there's that no good tax collector Matthew.

ANDREW: That traitor! He's betrayed his own people by working for the Romans.

PETER: Shh, I want to hear what Jesus will have to say to him. I bet He's really going to lay in on Matthew!

JESUS: Follow me.

PETER: Wait, what? Excuse me, Jesus? Can I have a word with you?

JESUS: Yeah?

PETER: You do know who that is, right? That's a tax collector! He's working for the enemy.

JESUS: I know.

PETER: Why him?

JESUS: Why not?

I mention this because sometimes I think we like to believe that God's grace isn't big enough for everyone, or that certain people can never be saved. Have you ever met someone who seemed so far away from God that you thought s/he hadn't had a chance in hell (no pun intended) of making it to Heaven? Those are usually the people who end up changing their lives the most. That's because Jesus sees everyone the same; we all need salvation. We're all hopeless without God's grace, and fortunately there's enough grace for everyone who seeks it.

And now I close with the Book of Common Prayer's second Sunday of Lent prayer:

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Monday Morning Awesomeness: 03/21/11

In today's installment of Monday Morning Awesomeness, MercyMe and their tour mates (including Jars of Clay and Lecrea) cover The Beatles' "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da." Did I mention the fake mustaches?

Is the Conversation Dead?

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According to my friend Julie, the Emerging Conversation as we know it is dead. In fact, she even wrote an obituary for the Conversation:

"The Conversation died late last night after a long battle against a rare illness. Many people were shocked and saddened. It is survived by it’s partner Inclusion and also by it’s children, Questions, Openness, Constructs, and Context. Questions was going to speak at the Conversation’s memorial service, but could not due to duct tape that said, 'only allowed if you agree with me.' Unfortunately, Openness could not make it because it’s hands and feet were tied, because participators wanted to make sure people like John Piper, Ken Silva, and Chris Rosebrough could not enter the memorial. Constructs and Context were distracted with theologians and seminary students telling them how to behave. However, Inclusion was there and spoke poetically of it’s partner. Many say that the words brought about Conversation by Inclusion were so beautiful because Inclusion spoke behind a black sheet bringing forth only Inclusion’s words. One attendee said, 'Yeah, Inclusion has beautiful words, but better to be heard and not seen.' [. . .]

We tried to find Jesus to comment about this, but he was unavailable. He was busy spending time with Pharisees, tax collectors, the sick, the rich, the poor, Sadducees, LGBTQ, men, women, children, prostitutes, ministers, t.v. evangelist and more colorful mix of people. He did send one comment through his publicist the Holy Spirit, 'I died for this?'"

I hate to say this, but I think it's true.

The reason why I joined the Conversation a year or so ago is because I loved the idea of discussing what it meant to follow Jesus in the 21st century. A long the way I made some new friends (several of whom are on my blogroll on the right), I picked up some new ideas, and my faith became alive again. Sure, I sometimes had to deal with the legalists and heresy hunters, but for the most part the Conversation was pretty civil.

And then about a month or so ago, something strange happened. Both the conservatives and the progressives were yelling at each other about who had the right doctrine. Things really came to a head when Love Wins came out. Rob Bell probably hoped that his book would start a conversation about a complex subject, but instead it's a full-blown war. No one wants to listen to what the other person has to say. There are no shades of gray: either you believe everyone goes to Heaven in the end, or that God will throw the unrepentant into a literal lake of fire for all eternity. Period. End of story.

(Personally I think the Hell issue is a lot more complex than that. In fact, next week I hope to have two guest bloggers discuss both sides of the issue.)

What happened to that generous orthodoxy Brian McLaren proposed several years ago? Is that Big Tent no longer big enough for all believers? Can we ever find some sort of middle ground? I hope so, or else I just might walk away from the Church.

Lenten Meditation: Quit Playing Religion Games

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I'm sure you remember my I Hate Religion rant from a few weeks back. Looking back, my brushstrokes might have been a little too wide. I'm still disappointed by a lot of what I see in Christendom, but I don't really hate religion in-and-of itself.

I hate the religion games people play.

We've all met people who claim to follow Christ, who appear to be holy and righteous, and who point their fingers at every little mistake other people make. And then one day you find out that this so-called "godly man" is either cheating on his wife, or stealing money from the church, or maybe even sexually abusing his kids.

Or perhaps you've met some one who has all of their doctrines lined up in a row like ducks, and who seems to know the answer to every question. Yet when you look at their lives, you don't see any fruit. They've practically ignored the cries of the poor, they've passed by the suffering, and they've turned a deaf ear to the afflicted. Looks like some one forgot about the doctrine of "Love thy neighbor as thyself."

And, yes, I've played those religion games. I still do. I do a great job of making people believe that I'm this perfect little disciple who never ignores the plight of others, and who loves God with his whole heart and mind and soul. In fact, sometimes I'm so convincing that I'll even fool myself! Of course I can never fool God, and eventually He catches up with my and exposes my lies.

But here's the good news: Jesus frees us from those religion games. Through the cross He makes us tear down our facades and gives us the freedom to be honest with God, each other, and ourselves.

What religion games to you find yourself playing?

Monday Morning Awesomeness: 03/14/11

As you have heard, last week Alice in Chains bassist Mike Starr passed away after a long battle with drug addiction. So in tribute, here's AIC's "Would."

Lent Begins: Good Guilt vs. Bad Guilt

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If you want to know the truth, I suck at observing Lent. Whenever I vow to give something up, I end up indulging in it more and more. Of course that’s not want Lent is about in-and-of itself. Lent is a time when the Church prepares its heart for Holy Week, where we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Lent is a time for reflection and repentance.

I’m good at the reflection part. Most of writing is 90% navel gazing. The repentance part, though . . . well, that’s another story.

Years ago I read a book by Brennan Manning where he talks about the difference between good guilt and bad guilt. Good guilt, Manning writes, leads to repentance. Good guilt is when you think to yourself, “Wait, why am I doing this? This is stupid! I’m done with this.” Bad guilt, on the other hand, is when you think to yourself, “I’m such a horrible person! Nothing can save me. I’m just gonna wallow around in my own misery.”

And when it comes to bad guilt, I hold a Master’s!

I drudge all day carrying the load of my guilt on my back, getting weaker with each step. I pray for some sort of relief from my burden. But whenever some one says, “Go to the Cross and leave your burden at Jesus’ feet,” I always respond with, “No thanks, this is my burden, and I alone have to carry it.”

The reason why I’m so hesitant to repent is because I feel like God won’t forgive me. How can I show my face in church when I know that I’m living a lie? How can I approach a holy and righteous God with all of my screw-ups? I feel like I have to get my act together before I can turn to God.

As I write this I can’t help but think of the Pharisee and the tax collector. We’re told that it was the tax collector--the broken one who was too ashamed to even lift his head--who left the temple blessed, not the Pharisee who checked off all the boxes on his self-righteous checklist. That’s why, despite all my frustrations with religion, I keep coming back to Jesus again again: grace. Grace promises me that God still loves me, even though I screw everything up. Grace reassures me that things would eventually get better. Grace is that still small voice buried in my subconscious mind telling me, "Everything is going to be alright. Don't give up now."

Good guilt makes us run towards God. Bad makes us run away from God. Hopefully this year for Lent I will learn the difference.

What are you goals for Lent this year?

How Depression Works

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I wrote the following during a free-writing session about a month ago when I wasn't doing very well. Before I begin I want to make a few disclaimers.

1. If you are easily triggered, you might not want to read this.
2. The unedited version is a lot more graphic!
3. I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'm not going to do anything to hurt myself.

* * *

Depression attacks always start as tiny snowballs and end with an avalanche. It starts innocently enough with the tiniest little mishap. It could be an argument with some one on the Internet, or a reoccurring problem at work, or something else. Whatever it is, you can’t just let it go. You think about it all day long. You try to distract yourself with other things—-music, work, a funny movie, etc.—-but no matter what you do you just can’t stop thinking about what happened. Your day was going just find until that mishap, and now you’re whole day is shot to hell. This is when the snowball picks up the first layer of snow while rolling down the hill: Anger.

You try not to let it bother you. After all, why should a tiny little mishap ruin your entire day? Certainly you have better things to worry about, right? But try as you may you just simply cannot forget about what just happened. So you replay the incident over and over again in your head as your anger grows more and more. It’s no longer a tiny little mishap; it’s now an insult against your very character. How dare they! Everything was going just fine until that incident happened. Now everything is ruined! A hex on them all! By this time, though, another layer has formed on the growing snowball: Guilt.

In the midst of your brewing anger, you suddenly realize, “Wait a minute. Aren’t I supposed to be Mr. Nonviolent-Love-Everyone-Christian-Boy? Why am I still harboring these feelings?” But you don’t repent; it’s not that kind of guilt. Instead, you crawl inside of a Budweiser bottle and drown yourself in alcohol. The more you drink, the more the voices in your head prove that you’re a failure, so you drink some more. Eventually you’ve absorbed enough alcohol for the snowball to add on another layer: Self-Destruction.

Everything is crumbling around you. Visions of destruction fill your head day and night. You want to wake up screaming from this nightmare, but you're wide awake. In the end, you go back to your old trusty friend the razor. As you stick the blade into your skin, you can feel the demons escape through the fresh cut in your arm. A few strokes later, and then it’s over. The voices stop. Everything is quiet again. The snowball finally crashed.

You beg God for forgiveness and promise not to do it again. You tell your therapist that you made a mistake, but you’re really serious about cleaning up your act. A few months go by and things are okay. No real worries. You use all the techniques your therapist taught you. Things are under control. But secretly you know that it won’t be long before another tiny little snowball will start falling down the mountain.

Monday Morning Awesomeness: 03/7/11

This week's Monday Morning Awesomeness is brought to you by BarlowGirl and their song, "I Believe in Love." Enjoy!

Why I Hate Religion

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One of my all-time favorite comedians is George Carlin. He’s one of the few stand-up comedians that could make you both laugh and think at the same time. One of his most famous routines is “Religion is Bullsh*t” where he makes his case for atheism. Here’s how Carlin sums up religion:

“Think about it, religion has actually convinced people that there's an invisible man...living in the sky...who watches every thing you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a list of ten special things that he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish where he will send to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry for ever and ever 'til the end of time...but he loves you!”

On one hand, it’s a bit of an exaggeration. But on the other hand, I think Carlin was right on the proverbial money.

I can’t count how many times preachers have described the holy and sovereign God as a dictator sitting in his high chair watching over everything we do, say, and think, ready to get his smite on whenever some one makes the slightest mistake. This is why I cringe whenever God is described as holy and sovereign. It’s not because I don’t believe God isn’t holy or sovereign. I do, very much so. It’s just that often when preachers describe God as holy and sovereign, what they really mean is, “God’s gonna seriously eff you up!”

And that’s why I hate religion.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not an atheist. Neither am I rejecting Jesus or the Bible or the Church. I still follow Christ. I just don’t follow religion anymore. Religion is what happens when people twist the Gospel to make it fit their own agendas.

Religion is motivated by fear.

Faith is motivated by love.

Religion’s main driving force is rules.

Faith’s main driving force is God.

Religion has all the answers wrapped up in neat and tidy boxes.

Faith isn’t afraid to live the questions.

I also hope no one thinks I’m suggesting universalism. Believe me, I’m not a universalist (and apparently neither is Rob Bell). I believe that on Judgment Day we’ll all stand before God. However, when I read the Bible I can’t help but notice that the Gospel is so much bigger than a Get Out of Hell Free card.

It’s about God restoring the world through Jesus.

It’s about freedom from sin and bondage.

It’s about reconciliation with both God and each other.

And that’s why I can’t embrace Carlin’s atheism: the Gospel is so much bigger than what religion has made it out to be.

Question the Answers

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I'm not a Buddhist, but I like to read about Buddhism from time to time. I think as a philosopher and a teacher, the Buddha had a lot of deeply profound things to say. Here's one that I've been thinking about a lot lately:

“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. . . . Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”

I don't know about you, but it's much easier for me to automatically believe whatever the "experts" say is true or "orthodox" (notice the quotation marks). I'm afraid to ask questions because I'm afraid of what the answer might be. What if everything I've ever been taught is a lie? But when I finally do ask the questions, I'm always pleasantly surprised by the answer.

For example, last year when I nudged my way into the emerging church conversation, I was introduced to all these new ideas about the Gospel, the Bible, the Cross, and eschatology. I was also reading a lot about the New Calvinism movement and their theology. With all the different voices and ideas coming at me, though, I no longer knew what to believe. Was Christus Victor the right atonement theory, or was it Penal Substitutionary Atonement? Was God still angry at everyone? But I just kept going through the motions of doing church because I didn't want to lose my faith. The problem was, I was my faith! So finally I started asking questions and investigating my beliefs. I emptied out everything that I had been taught about Jesus, and re-read all four gospels.

And when I did, the strangest thing happened. I regained my faith in Jesus! I studied His teachings and found out He was right all along!

Questioning what you've been taught is scary, but it's necessary for growth. If we stop asking questions, we stop learning, and therefore we stop growing. Besides, I think Jesus is big enough to handle our questions. He even said, "Ask and you shall receive."

Embracing the Questions

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This past Saturday I went to the annual Bay to Ocean Writers Conference in Wye Mills, MD. I've been going to the conference for about three years now, and it's one of highlights of my year. I always meet new people--this year I met Mary McCarthy from Pajamas and Coffee--and learn a lot of new tricks that, hopefully, will help me be a better storyteller. This year there was a lot more focus on narrative essays, which is my main point of interest. The first workshop in particular was an eye-opener

This particular workshop was hosted by George Merrill, a retired Episcopal priest and essayist. His lecture was not so much about the structure of the narrative essay, but the spirit. He spoke about the narrative essay like a religious meditation (although he didn't focus on any particular religion). One thing he said really stood out to me, and that's that the same thing that kills religion also kills the narrative essay: too much dogma. Too much dualistic black-and-white thinking. Too many answers. The narrative essay, on the other hand, should not be afraid to live the questions, rather than answering all the questions. At the end of the workshop when he was taking questions from us, I raised and my hand and told him that I have trouble living the questions, because I always feel like I should have all the answers at the end of my essays.

I think that's why I'm embarrassed about half of the stuff I wrote on this blog last year. I was so concerned with having all the answers for all the questions that both my writing and faith became extremely boring. I didn't leave any room for mystery and wonder. Everything had to be in a neat little box carefully organized in my closet.

Reality, unfortunately, isn't that neatly organized. Problems aren't always solved in 25 minutes like on TV. And that's okay. We don't need to have everything figured out.

Maybe that's why there was such hoopla over Rob Bell this past weekend. Like I said yesterday, his new book hasn't even been released yet, so I can't comment on what Bell allegedly believes or disbelieves about Hell. But because he brought up questions--a really important question, too--it scared a lot of people, so a lot Christians were quick to label Bell a heretic even before anyone had a chance to read his new book for themselves. So much for not judging by mere appearance (John 7:24).*

But I digress.

I'm learning how to embrace the questions instead of scouring the world for answers. Besides, the answers usually come when you least expect them.


*NOTE: I'm NOT saying it's a crime to disagree with Rob Bell, just like it's not a sin to disagree with John Piper. Bell could very well be wrong. I'm just saying it's silly to judge him before he's even had a chance to speak. That's all.