In his book, “The Pursuit of God”, A.W. Tozer writes:

“The way to deeper knowledge of God is through the lonely valleys of soul poverty and abnegation of all things.  The blessed ones who possess the Kingdom are they who have repudiated every external thing and have rooted from their hearts all sense of possessing. These are the ‘poor in spirit'” 

Where is that voice today?  Where are the leaders calling us to this kind of abandonment to God and His will?  Tozer, in his day, was almost a lone voice calling out a warning about the dangerous, self-oriented path that evangelicalism was taking.  Those voices are still there today, still warning…albeit, mostly from the fringe.

I’m not feeling good today (not just mentally, I think I have that sore throat-flu thing that’s been going about smacking people lately…and given my propensity for asking people to hold hands at Burning House meetings, it’s no wonder).  But anyway…I’m not feeling good, which is my excuse for writing such a biting satire below.  It’s not that I’m trying to be difficult…it’s just that I’m frustrated at what we are passing off as Christianity these days.  Please feel free to take exception to my words.

 

THE MODERN EVANGELICAL BEATITUDES

Blessed are the rich,

For they show off God’s power to prosper and get more stuff.

 

Blessed are the entertained,

For they shall be numbed to the realities of life and responsibility.

 

Blessed are the loud,

For their picketing, protests and demands shall make politicians fear them.

 

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for self-help formulas and platitudes,

For they shall find a cornucopia of books to make them feel good at the Christian bookstore.

 

Blessed are the condemning,

For their signs and bullhorns prove they are right and all others are wrong.

 

Blessed are they who are steeped in doctrinal training,

For they shall have an answer for everything, and no more shall mystery be tolerated.

 

Blessed are those who promote the war on terror,

For they shall always know war.

 

Blessed are those who work toward legislating Christian values and morals,

Who force the Christian way of life on all, regardless of individual choice,

For theirs is the kingdom of this world and it’s ways.

 

 

Sorry for the delay in posting…holidays you know.

You know…Christmas is a wonderful holiday.  I know that many have said that a war is being waged on Christmas, citing the new trend of shoppers being greeted with “happy holidays” instead of “merry Christmas”…and other strange little insignificant issues that people seem to love obsessing over.  In reality though, Christmas itself is a strange mish-mosh of pagan and Christian symbols, replete with syncretism and outright mythology.

One interesting bit of mythology is the ordinary Nativity Scene.  A typical Nativity Scene looks like this:

It has Mary, Joseph and Jesus, which is a good place to start, but what’s really interesting is all the stuff that has been added which is, as far as we know, pure fiction. 

WHAT?!!  How can you say that?

Well…just hang with me here.  As I said, the main characters are right…but in addition to them, we have three wise men (when the Bible just says “Wise men came from the east”….no number given.  There were three gifts mentioned, but that is no proper indicator of how many made the trip.  Also, we are told that the wise men came and visited the “young child”…which most scholars seem to think indicates this was 1-2 years after his birth).

Also in addition to Mary, Joe and Jesus is a group of animals.  I had always heard the wonderful stories of the animals all bowing down to the Little Lord Jesus and always was fond of them.  They are nice…but totally fabricated.  There’s no scriptural indication that any such thing happened.

Actually, the stable which houses this nice Nativity Scene is apocryphal.  The language the Bible uses doesn’t indicate a western style wooden stable at all, but more likely is referring to the lower room of a family house, where much of the cooking was done, and where smaller animals would be housed and fed during the cold months.

Other things like the Innkeeper (which isn’t in the scene above but is usually part of the story), and even the idea of a traditional western style “inn” are fabrications as well.  Joseph was heading to his ancestral home for the census…he would have had family in Bethlehem.  The word translated as inn is really quite nebulous in our language, and is also the word used to describe the upper room where Jesus met with his disciples and families for the last Passover meal they shared.  The word used for “inn” could just mean there wasn’t any room left in the guest room of Joseph’s family when he came to Bethlehem, so he and Mary had to go to the lower room and bunk there…oh yeah, and birth a child.

It’s kind of strange, isn’t it?  All the stuff of tradition that seeps into our understanding of a story, which really alters the original quite a bit.  There are a LOT of things, just like the Nativity Scene, that have been reverently placed in the concept of church which have no basis in scripture for their origin.  That’s why I still insist that simple is safer.  We know Joseph was there….and Mary was too, and best of all Jesus was.  All the other stuff is just along for the ride, we can take it or leave it.   So with the church.  We know Jesus is there…that he died on a cross to save us and draw us together….beyond that, most stuff is based on cultural preference and view.  If we hold to the peripheral stuff loosely, we’ll stay with the simple….and to me, that’s where its safe.

 Merry Christmas! 

(by the by, here’s an interesting site to read about how the birth of Christ may have gone down)

The band Pieces of the Wreck is going to play a little “mini-show” on December 31^st (New Year’s Eve).  We’ll have our Burning House service, and then roll right in to a Sounds of Thunder/Pieces of the Wreck concert. 

It’s sort of funny though, because they are almost the same band with the exception of just a few members here and there.  Same bassist, drummer, guitarist…the only thing that will distinguish us is the band name.  Heh.

Anyway…this all means that we have to practice, which is always a combination of hilarity and extreme frustration.  Last night, we were working on a cover of the Train song “Calling all Angels”.  It has been a while since we last did that song, and I had a little trouble at times trying to keep the rhythm, vocally.  I had the words right, and the tune was correct, I just had the wrong emphasis going, which put me out of sync rhythmically.  When I realized it, I hurried through the vocals to catch myself up…you know, just sort of droning through them quickly with no emphasis or passion at all. 

It got me thinking about the Bible.

“Doesn’t EVERYTHING make you think of the Bible?”

“No…well, maybe, I don’t know.  Stay out of this.” 

Maybe part of the problem that seems inherent in the 21^st Century
American Church© is that we’ve worked so hard to get all the words right that we’ve lost the proper emphasis over time.  Is it even possible that having all the words just right may not be the most important thing?

If you look at a sheet of music, with lyrics and musical notes printed on it, does that piece of paper accurately convey the song the composer wrote?  It does potentially, but not in practicality.  How could looking at all the notes in place and all the lyrics written out ever reveal the beauty of a song?  Is it even music if it’s not performed? 

But when it’s performed, it must be done with more than just the right notes and the lyrics properly in place…it must carry the right emphasis and passion in the expression of it.  Think of how a singer can do a cover of another artist’s song.  He makes it distinctly his own while not doing damage to the original tune.  The cover artist can only do this by retaining the original emphasis, and taking the song into himself and then expressing it with his own passion.

As we come to God’s Word, our interest has to run deeper than just getting the words right.  It’s more complex than just parsing out proper context and interpretation.  We must take it in, find the rhythm of it, find the emphasis, and then express it as our own life.  Otherwise, it’s just words on a page.  Is there really any music if a song isn’t performed…is there really inspiration if the Word isn’t lived out?

Just some thoughts over my coffee this morn.

I’ll admit it right off the bat…I’m a Christmas Junkie.

I love Christmas.  At 45 years of age, I still slow down to look at cool displays of exterior holiday lighting, and run through the house in my pajamas at random moments shouting “It’s almost Christmas!”.

I think my love for this holiday is two-fold.  For one thing, there were eleven or more years of my life spent without Christmas.  According to the belief system of the church I was a part of when I started following Jesus, Christmas, as with all popular holidays, had a pagan origin and should not be indulged in by God fearing Christians.  Even after I left that church, I still struggled with my participation in the holidays.  I just remember one day, walking through a department store alone, trying to avert my eyes from the beautiful decorations, and it seemed to me (you don’t have to believe it) that the Lord spoke to me. 

“What are you afraid of?”

“Well…I’m not supposed to be afraid of anything….perfect love casts out all fear.”  Slowly, my tight resistance to the holiday began to loosen.

For some reason that little exchange woke me up.  This was no different from eating meat sacrificed to idols.  Paul made it clear, those things mean nothing, it has everything to do with our own conscience (Romans 14, 1 Cor 10) and what we do with it.  I could celebrate this holiday and let it be the warm, wonderful family holiday I wanted it to be.

(By the by, John MacArthur has written a really good article about the origins of the Christmas tree which I think puts to rest any worries about pagan connections to our dear tanenbaum.)

I think the other reason I’m a Christmas Junkie is the way it transports me back to a different time in my life.  A time of innocence and ardent anticipation of good things to come.  I believe there is a place for that sort of thing in the Christ Follower’s life.  In so many ways, the childish rush of Christmas joy is a foretaste of what can be found in a life centered on Jesus.  That’s the way I put Christ into Christmas…by seeing this holiday as a point of reference.

How about you?  Are you in to Christmas, or is it a drag?  Got your holi-dizzle in full effect, or do you think this is a heapin’ helpin’ of pagan stew?

Ok, so I was reading a blog, and it was an article on Steven Baldwin’s activities to “cool up” Christianity.  The article is found here….and you need to read it before you read my post.

Here’s the thing….at first I was all “you gotta’ be kidding me, this is stupid, Christianity will never be cool”, etc.  My usual tirade.  But then I started really thinking about it…about how Jesus would react to my reaction (so to speak).  So I wrote a little story.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————–

John and another disciple were out of breath when they finally found Jesus.  They stood before him, huffing to get air into thier lungs after what appeared to be a long run.

“Jesus….puff, puff….we….did something….huff…..for you.” said one of the disciples.

“Yeah!” exclaimed John, bending over and holding his side, “we….fixed a real……problem!”

Jesus squinted his eyes, and let slip a barely perceptible “yikes” through his lips.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Jesus, “what problem did you fix?” he said, making quotation marks in the air at his last word.

“We found this guy…and he was setting people free from the devil, but he wasn’t one of us!  He was using strange terms, like gnarly and awesome…and we knew those weren’t words that we use.” said the one disciple, his face aflush.

“Yeah…and they had skateboards and ramps and….well….what in the world does that have to do with what we’re doing?  Anyway, he’s not one of us, so I told him to knock it off!” John said, with a flourish of his hand.

“You told him what?” asked Jesus, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I told him that in order to use your name, he had to be like us, and part of our group, using our words and our approved methodology.” John was beaming.

Jesus groaned, and began rubbing his temples. “Guys….John…you can’t do that.  John, what did you say this guy was doing in my name?”

“Trying to set people free from bondage to evil…but don’t worry Jesus, we made him stop!”

“Were people being set free John?”

“Well…yeah, I guess, but that’s not the point, is it?  He isn’t one of us!  He was doing stuff that we should get to do, we’re the ones who’ve made the sacrifices to follow you.  Who does this guy think he is, just coming on the scene and doing things like he was part of your plan?”

Jesus took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.  “How much evil do you think there is in the world, John?”

“I don’t know….lots?”

“Yes John, lots.  Do you think there won’t be enough evil left for you to fight against if this guy fights evil too?  There is plenty of evil to go around John.  There are plenty of demons to cast out, everyone will have more than their fair share of work to do, you don’t have to worry about that.  John, those who use my name for good are not your enemy.  You only have one enemy, and this guy aint him.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

John had the look of someone who was slowly coming awake.  His head began to slowly nod, like an engine starting to chug and a smile emerged on his face.  “I get it Jesus!  You want us to go and make him one of US!  C’mon guys, lets go get this guy!”

The disciples raced off down the road, arguing about who would be in charge of training the new guy.

Jesus called out after them, waving his hands for them to listen to him, “He who is not against us in ON our side!”.  But the disciples couldn’t hear him.

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You can read the real story in Mark 9:38-40

Giddy.  That’s how I’d describe it.

 

Obviously, the term “giddy” doesn’t seem right, but it’s the only word that comes to mind which is even close…but it’s really more than giddy, it’s deeper, this sensation that I feel.

 

There is something about those Burning House meetings that I haven’t experienced in any other regular meeting of the church since I first began hanging out with the church.  It’s not something connected to our order of the service.  It’s not the songs we sing, even though there certainly is a lot of passion expressed during those songs.  It’s something else.

 

As I stand in the room, and catch glimpses of all the different people, I almost feel like I need to avert my eyes, the reverence I feel for God is so strong in those moments.  I feel like Moses before the burning bush.  The atmosphere is not what is usually associated with moments of awe and reverence…people are talking, laughing, chewing and sipping from plastic cups.  Almost without exception, there are smiles stretched across every face in the room.  Here and there, I witness glassy eyes that are barely containing tears from a torrent.

 

In those moments, no one would know it, but I start trembling.  It’s involuntary…but it begins in my knees and reverberates all through me.  I look at the smiling faces, the joy, the bread, the cup; all I can think about are Paul’s words to the Corinthians “…he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”  If I understand Paul correctly, my sense of reverential awe is coming from this brush with Jesus Christ Himself, present in His body, the church.

 

We’ve been accused in the past of doing a disservice to the communion service in our Burning House meetings.  I couldn’t disagree more strongly.  I understand that it’s very different from a traditional approach, and I understand it requires a loosened grip on our former definitions of “reverence”.  It may not be everyone’s cup of tea…but I believe with all my heart we are on a good heading with it.

 

I wish I were a poet, or at least someone who is good with words, then maybe I could articulate what I experience at those meetings.   I watch a young man, a teenager, laughing with his friends, sharing torn bits of bread, handing a cup to one of his peers.  I watch him, his eyes closed, head held high, mouthing words of prayer for the one he holds hands with.  I see him, his face aflame with passion, his hands outstretched to heaven as he sings about his Great Redeemer. 

 

He’s not alone.  His passion is repeated all over the room, and my knees want to buckle because I’m in the presence of the body of Jesus.  The abyss of His love is like a vortex we’re drawn into.

Burning House keeps me alive.  There are a lot of things in life that I’m convinced are designed to kill me…at least emotionally.  I battle discouragement and depression on a daily basis, and sometimes I just don’t win.  But at Burning House I tremble before that Something So Much Bigger than myself, and I find strength…vitality, inspiration, motivation…to press ahead in the journey.  I can smile, remembering that none of this is dependent on me.  I’m too frail, too flawed for that.  It all rests with Jesus, present in His body.