Preface: This blog is a half-developed thought. It's an inspiration to me to share the stories that I have experienced that have changed me. Other blogs are more developed in thought, so if you want that, click on another one. But if you read this one, hopefully it will inspire you the way writing it inspired me.
If you grew up in the church, you have heard the phrase, "Be in the world, but not of it!" used as a condemnation to those that are judged for being too much a part of the world. You may also have heard the verse used as an excuse, wherein the speaker claims that whatever thing they have done that is in question has been simply a part of being in the world, but it's okay because they are still not of the world.
In either case, I believe that the verses this concept is based on are being stretched like a contortionist's body. Its untwisted form may be somehow present, but only with some imagination. Though no verse says this phrase directly, "in the world, but not of it", some roughshod googling suggests that it is a religious construct of the Sufis.
The Bible verses perhaps primarily responsible for our adoption of this phrase are from Jesus and Paul. In the upper-room, Jesus says, "As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you" (John 15:19b). And Paul says, "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2a).
Fairly, both verses seem to imply the Sufi concept. Clearly both verses assume that we are in the world, which seems like common sense, but I think a lot of Christians forget that from time to time. That said, both verses also demonstrate that the followers of Jesus are decidedly Different and Apart.
My concerns in our understanding of this concept are:
1) The artificial, legalistic lines we draw between being in the world and being of the world, which often lead an exclusion of the world or to seclusion from the world
2) The tendency of the affluent, privileged, and modern world to determine for themselves which world(s) they want be a part of
I'll rush through the first point a bit. When we draw lines between what being in the world and of the world means, we can easily become like the Pharisees who shut the door of the Kingdom in people's faces (Matt. 23:13b), which excludes the world. Or it leads to a full-out seclusion from the world. Probably all of us are familiar with so-called Christian bubbles. The culture of "gosh darn it,"of "got Jesus?" T-shirts, of WWJD bracelets, and other things that make the Christian community a great punch-line for a certain type of joke. I won't go into the details here. You know the drill.
The second part, which has actually a lot less to do with these verses directly, is what I am going to focus on.
Something that eats at me is the fact that a large number of us in the western world have the ability to choose what world or which worlds we are a part of. Have any of you seen the show Dance Moms? It shows the studio and tour lives of mothers who have daughters that dance competitively. In an episode I saw recently (I don't watch often, but when I do, I watch a marathon and then hate myself for days after the fact), a new-coming mother/daughter pair swooped in. She, as a single, working mother, asked the other mom's what they do. Sitting in the window room, watching her daughter perform, one mother replied, "This is what we do. This is our lives."
Their worlds are centered around competitions for fame and fortune for their children. It's what they do. It's how they identify themselves. It's how they decide how and what to be in the world.
In some party schools, the worlds that exist for college students involve a lot of sleeping, homework, binge drinking, going clubbing, etc.
In some Christian circles, the world that exists is one that centers on weekly meetings, vigils. People identified with this world may have Jesus bumper stickers, fish, and of course, extensive knowledge of the Christian film industry (which some of you didn't know existed).
If you asked the students about their favorite Kirk Cameron film, they might ask if he was the dude from Growing Pains, then proceed to say, "Wait! He's in movies?" If you asked someone from the Christian circle to make you a Jagerbomb, they might say, "Oh, I can't - I'm a pacifist."
The dance mom said it well. This is what we do.
It concerns me when we choose to limit which worlds we are exposed to. I may not want to feed into twisted dynamics of separate worlds, like any of the three described above, but I want to know them. Part of white privilege is never having to be exposed to the injustices that the people of color have been exposed to, never having to come to terms with the fact that we have been a part of creating this dynamic (not just in history, but in the present). Part of class privilege is that those who are rich never really have to cross paths with the poor. They have enough money to pay for a way of life that would ensure that they would never have to see another poor person again.
I'm speaking in extremes. Most of us do come into contact with these realities from time to time. But do we let them change us? Do we let the things in these worlds inform us, transform us. We are not to allow them to conform us, but to transform us. The dance moms have it right again (I'm saying that as much as possible - there aren't many situations where this phrase is appropriate or true) - it does come down to the question of identity. Do we let our worlds inform our identities or do we let our identities influence the world around us?
If enough of us walk in power and truth, we can be the presence of transformation in the world, bringing hope. We should be able to echo Jesus' own self-proclaimed (or proclaimed by a prophet, affirmed by Jesus) decree of His mission in the world (confirming his identity as the Messiah):
The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Why I don't owe God my life.
This is probably going to be one of the most controversial blogs I post, and almost definitely one of the most offensive.
Almost exactly a year ago I was dealing with the all-too-common issue of guilt. Guilt is the primary broken way in which I relate to God, myself, and others. Guilt, I've discovered, is one of the most important tools of manipulation, and is arguably one of the strongest driving forces of motivation. Even in the church, as Wayne Jacobsen notes.
So almost exactly one year ago while on a retreat at school, I was pondering the idea of grace. In an atonement model of the resurrection, where Jesus bore our sin and "paid the price", the "debt is cancelled". I started thinking about what it means for a debt to be cancelled. The balance is emptied. Even without the idea that Jesus' righteousness is imputed to our accounts, the balance due is 0. Nothing. That tripped me up for a minute.
Wha- I don't owe God anything? Get this: You don't owe God anything.
A famous hymn says, "Jesus paid it all. All to Him I owe." That is the most contradictory phrase I have ever heard in a religious song. Let's reword this. "Jesus paid it all", roughly means "Jesus made it so that there is nothing to owe". So let's run through this again. "Jesus made it so that there is nothing to owe. All to Him I owe." That's what I call a logical fallacy. Especially if we aren't setting up a false dichotomy between Jesus and God.
It's been paid. We don't owe God obedience. We give it to Him. We don't serve Him because we owe it to Him. Is He worthy of all? Absolutely. So why make the distinction?
1. Because God is worthy of our true love and devotion.
If we are so caught up on paying a debt that no longer exist, our good works become a selfish means of self-justification which suggests we believe that Jesus didn't pay it all. On a deeper level, it reduces our ability to truly love God because 1) We don't really believe the extent of God's love for us - that He would truly cancel the debt (and we know that we love God because He first loved us), and 2) Love isn't the driving force behind our actions. If we relate to God out of guilt rather than from love, we aren't devoted to the God that we love so much as we are indebted to the God that we feel enslaved to.
2. Because our God is unique.
In Acts 17 Paul appeals to the men of Athens who were "very religious in every way" (vs. 22). His proclamation of who God is was set up to directly contrast the ways the men of Athens were taught to relate to their own gods. Section by section, his proclamation overturned the expectations of who or what "God" is. There were stringent requirements that had to be made to appease the gods of Athens. Not so with the God who was made known through the crucified and resurrected Messiah, for "He is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else" (vs. 25).
The God we follow, as revealed to us through Jesus, never gains followers through manipulation and He never seeks appeasement. Even to those for whom He performed miracles. If I healed some dude and he tried to sell me out to the Pharisees (see John 5), I would be like, "Really? I healed you! You owe it to me to follow me - or at the very least not try to stir up trouble for me."
Is obedience commanded? Is love a command? Yes. Yes. But the basis is never from what we owe. The basis is instead, in my understanding, from what we receive.
Matt. 20:25-28
Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Jesus paid it all. All to Him we give.
Sin had left a crimson stain. He washed it, now we live.
God, I don't get your love. It offends me that I can't ever pay you back. Not in full, nor in part. God, if this really has been paid in full, any and all of my attempts to alleviate my guilt are in vain. You have called me blameless. I thank you that when I learn what it means to abide in you that I live into that reality. Give me the faith to trust that what you said is true. I want all that I do for you and for others to be motivated by love. Thank you for that freedom Jesus. Help us to get it. Help us to have faith when we don't.
Almost exactly a year ago I was dealing with the all-too-common issue of guilt. Guilt is the primary broken way in which I relate to God, myself, and others. Guilt, I've discovered, is one of the most important tools of manipulation, and is arguably one of the strongest driving forces of motivation. Even in the church, as Wayne Jacobsen notes.
So almost exactly one year ago while on a retreat at school, I was pondering the idea of grace. In an atonement model of the resurrection, where Jesus bore our sin and "paid the price", the "debt is cancelled". I started thinking about what it means for a debt to be cancelled. The balance is emptied. Even without the idea that Jesus' righteousness is imputed to our accounts, the balance due is 0. Nothing. That tripped me up for a minute.
Wha- I don't owe God anything? Get this: You don't owe God anything.
A famous hymn says, "Jesus paid it all. All to Him I owe." That is the most contradictory phrase I have ever heard in a religious song. Let's reword this. "Jesus paid it all", roughly means "Jesus made it so that there is nothing to owe". So let's run through this again. "Jesus made it so that there is nothing to owe. All to Him I owe." That's what I call a logical fallacy. Especially if we aren't setting up a false dichotomy between Jesus and God.
It's been paid. We don't owe God obedience. We give it to Him. We don't serve Him because we owe it to Him. Is He worthy of all? Absolutely. So why make the distinction?
1. Because God is worthy of our true love and devotion.
If we are so caught up on paying a debt that no longer exist, our good works become a selfish means of self-justification which suggests we believe that Jesus didn't pay it all. On a deeper level, it reduces our ability to truly love God because 1) We don't really believe the extent of God's love for us - that He would truly cancel the debt (and we know that we love God because He first loved us), and 2) Love isn't the driving force behind our actions. If we relate to God out of guilt rather than from love, we aren't devoted to the God that we love so much as we are indebted to the God that we feel enslaved to.
2. Because our God is unique.
In Acts 17 Paul appeals to the men of Athens who were "very religious in every way" (vs. 22). His proclamation of who God is was set up to directly contrast the ways the men of Athens were taught to relate to their own gods. Section by section, his proclamation overturned the expectations of who or what "God" is. There were stringent requirements that had to be made to appease the gods of Athens. Not so with the God who was made known through the crucified and resurrected Messiah, for "He is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else" (vs. 25).
The God we follow, as revealed to us through Jesus, never gains followers through manipulation and He never seeks appeasement. Even to those for whom He performed miracles. If I healed some dude and he tried to sell me out to the Pharisees (see John 5), I would be like, "Really? I healed you! You owe it to me to follow me - or at the very least not try to stir up trouble for me."
Is obedience commanded? Is love a command? Yes. Yes. But the basis is never from what we owe. The basis is instead, in my understanding, from what we receive.
Matt. 20:25-28
Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Jesus paid it all. All to Him we give.
Sin had left a crimson stain. He washed it, now we live.
God, I don't get your love. It offends me that I can't ever pay you back. Not in full, nor in part. God, if this really has been paid in full, any and all of my attempts to alleviate my guilt are in vain. You have called me blameless. I thank you that when I learn what it means to abide in you that I live into that reality. Give me the faith to trust that what you said is true. I want all that I do for you and for others to be motivated by love. Thank you for that freedom Jesus. Help us to get it. Help us to have faith when we don't.
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