t-ball theology

When I started thinking about The Rules of T-Ball, I began first with the “no-one-keeps-score” rule and how that relates to our relationship with God. The typical scriptures jumped to mind: 1 Corinthians 13:5: (…love keeps no record of wrongs) or Isaiah 43:25 (“I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions, for My own sake, and remembers your sins no more.”). But it seemed like a message about “God-not-keeping-score” sounded as sincere as a drugstore card. And a little theologically screwy.

There is a divine "score-keeping" with which we have to wrestle.

One of the most frightening scriptures for me is Matthew 25:31-33: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.”

That scene, honestly, is terrifying to me. The picture of a global accounting leaves me speechless; I don’t know how to fit it nicely into our Western approach to church that is essentially suffering-free. And hellfire preachers typically don’t do it justice either—they can strike me as style-over-compassion. But this cosmic shakeout of humanity is simply outside my scope of understanding. Even more fascinating is how utterly dumbstruck the sheep are that they had actually done anything for Jesus. And it’s not just the social justice aspect that gets questioned, like how we respond to the poor, the prisoner, etcetera, but power-encounter-spirituality as well. Jesus said earlier: “Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’” (Matthew 7:22). He frighteningly responds with, “Get away from me. I don’t know who you are.” Nearly every book in the New Testament specifically refers to this Judgment Day…and keep in mind these are primarily letters written to friends and churchplants.

Here’s the rub: we know it’s not by our works of righteousness that we enter into the Kingdom (Titus 3:5), yet we are still accountable for our actions. But as we see in the “Lord, Lord…” verse, it’s not just our actions, it’s how actions are connected with our motivations. And if our motivation isn’t love or compassion, then it’s disqualified. Or as Paul put it: If I gave everything I have to poor people, and if I were burned alive for preaching the Gospel but didn't love others, it would be of no value whatever. (1 Corinthians 13:3 Living Bible)

God does keep a compassion-check scorecard. It’s not just the things we do, but the things we do that are driven by true love. And I have to admit that’s more than a little unnerving for me, because I know I can't wait until I'm motivated, but it won't count until it morphs into compassion. That's sobering.

But as the psalmist said, the bright side is this: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom...” (Psalm 111.10).


Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God has God living inside, and that person lives in God. And so we know the love that God has for us, and we trust that love. God is love. Those who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. This is how love is made perfect in us: that we can be without fear on the day God judges us, because in this world we are like him. 1 John 4:15-17 (New Century Version)

true confessions

Sorry to be so slow to post. I’m still recovering: what a frustrating weekend at so many levels.

Ever wonder what goes on in a pastor's head?

It started Saturday night. If you don’t mind a little personal whining, I never felt like I got on track with the message. It was one of those times where I honestly felt like walking off the stage in the middle of the message and saying, “I’m done. Would the last person out turn off the lights?” People said kind things afterwards, but that doesn’t matter when you feel like you dropped the revelatory ball, so to speak. And please, I’m really not fishing for a compliment.

Although you don’t have to say amen, either.

I know the sum of the parts is greater than the whole, but it’s a drag when you feel like you aren’t holding up your part. I thought the worship time was awesome and Sean & Evan were appropriately ridiculous with the transition, but it was downhill from there on Saturday night. I had an appointment in Reading afterward, didn’t get home until nearly 11 p.m., rewrote a good bit of the message until 3 a.m. and subsequently felt better (whatever that means…) on Sunday.

And then shortly after the 10 a.m. celebration finished, the electricity went down in Springdale. We heard rumors of what happened (a car knocked down a pole? the hamster died?), but the auditorium was plunged into darkness. As I understood it, legally we had to empty out the building.

Next, we had someone trapped in the elevator. It took twenty minutes to get him out.

Even truer confessions here: it’s a serious financial hit when your biggest celebration is shut down. Yeah, I know, I should have my mind on whatever is lovely and true, but this is a stream-of-consciousness reaction to a stream-of-bills. And I'm supposed to have this "sovereignty of God" thing somewhat personally reconciled as a pastor. Hmmm.

I’m still looking for the silver lining. In the end, of course, I default to Romans 8:28.

But reluctantly.

Oh yeah: I'm changing the name of this blog to "What I Meant to Whine..."


postscript: A number of people told me they really liked the retelling of the wheat parable on Saturday night, but it was one of the things I edited out on Sunday. It just didn’t seem to fit the focus of the message. Here’s a transcript of it…

“One day Jesus told a story about a man who owned a field that he worked in. He worked hard and planted good wheat seeds in it. But one night his enemy came and planted weeds in the field. Weeks went by and one day the farmhands came to the man and said, ‘Didn’t you plant good seeds in this field? Where did these weeds come from?’

He told them, ‘An enemy has planted them.’

They asked, ‘Do you want us to pull the weeds up now?’

He replied, ‘No, you might pull up the wheat too. Let them grow up together and then when it’s time to harvest, we’ll bundle up the weeds and burn them and gather the wheat in the barn. It will be easier then to tell which is which.’

That’s why it gets a little confusing now. And if the Big "C" Church—that is, all people who have surrendered their lives to God’s Son and are now working for Him—is God’s plan for bringing the Kingdom, then doesn’t it make sense that the place to plant phonies and fakes and busybodies might be among the people whom God is using? It shouldn’t be any surprise that there are hypocrites in church…and at this point it’s sometimes hard to see what’s wheat or weeds. I don’t want to make you paranoid, but I didn’t write the parable--Jesus did. If you’re faking the Christian life now, if it’s been a long time since you’ve had God convict you about something, if you haven’t had any interest in showing mercy to someone and compassionately telling how God is working in your life, if you find yourself thinking about yourself and living defensively, and yet you still hang out with church people—you’re faking it.

Live it up now…but it’s not good in the end.”

are you experienced?

We had a number of people ask about the music on the video of the bus ride. It’s an artist named Phil Wickham who has a great CD by the same name. You can check him out at www.myspace.com/philwickham. He comes from pretty musical family…his dad played in an early California-Jesus-people band called The Way and his mom in a band called Parable.

Okay, that's way too much information. And you’d have to be really old to know any of that.

I hope this new series, The Experience Project, gets us thinking about God in the ordinary moments. A few of us were swapping emails about how God can/will speak into our lives at any time. I wrote that I was recently driving down I-75 and came up behind a woman in an older car in the middle lane driving slowly with the left turn signal on and no intention of switching lanes. Cars were buzzing around her. She had long grey hair, was older and overweight, had the window down, and I smugly dismissed her, thinking of a joke about how her turn signal had probably been on since she left her driveway this morning. But even deeper was a sharp cutting thought about her probable roots based on her license plate...which, interestingly enough, are mine as well. I immediately heard God telling me I was at risk of turning into an old judgmental man. It was a stinging conviction. And so I prayed for her and felt a stirring of grace and love...as well as my speed slowed down.

My understanding was that my heart is like a pie graph: the more judging I do, the less is left for mercy. And as I understand it, our primary calling is not judgment.

I have to slice my heart differently these days.

Had any moments like that lately?

walk on

Here's a picture of some of the folks who took part in the Memorial Day Hunger Walk. Thanks, everyone, for your time and leg muscles. We'll know in a few weeks how much food we get credited; at 140 pounds of food for MercyWorks for each runner, I would say we scored!

Great fun for a great cause. It was awesome being with you all...I can't wait to see next year's turnout.

revolution

Many years ago when I read Ron Sider’s Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, I wasn’t sure I should like it. It felt subversive. The biggest part of those feelings was due to my quickly changing paradigm at that time: after coming out of an anti-authority, counter-culture movement and being thrown into the evangelical church subculture, I wasn’t sure what politics and social philosophies I was supposed to subscribe to. I was a far left fish tossed in a far right stream. Thankfully, Jesus catches and cleans all kinds…and the total surrender He calls us to can’t be labeled and polled.

As time crept along, I had questions that buzzed me, like: why can’t the Church be known for it’s humility and servanthood and yet have a prophetic voice in the culture? Doesn’t a call to follow Jesus demand a response to the poor? Are classic evangelism and social justice mutually exclusive? Does the Good News that lifted me out of a lonely, drugged and spiritually lost state have something to say about racism, economic oppression and systemic injustice? It did and does.

Evangelical thinkers and writers like Ron Sider sounded the call to move beyond categorized political labels and simply do the right thing…or dare I say: do what Jesus would do.

After the message this weekend, I wanted to offer some of the practical—and that doesn’t mean “non-spiritual”—ways we can take part in changing our world. First and foremost, go to VCC’s website to the MercyWorks page at https://www.vineyardcincinnati.com/vcc.php?id=68. If you haven’t been to this page lately, you’ll be shocked at the number of opportunities. For many, many years God has had us getting hands-on with the needs of the marginalized and under-resourced. MercyWorks, Growth and Healing Ministries and our Prayer Ministries offer a variety of services, like simple basic help with free food and clothes (over 10 tons of food goes out every month), financial counseling, mentoring and tutoring, an auto donations and clinic, assessments, job coaching, jail ministry, mentoring and tutoring programs, literacy tutoring, Divorce & Beyond, and more. It includes organizations outside of ours, like our partnership with Big Brothers/Sisters http://www.bigsforkids.org/.

Last Thursday we officially purchased the 106,000 square feet warehouse in which we’ll build the Healing Center: Help for the Whole Person. The number of volunteers that will be needed to serve our city with the Center will be huge. Begin praying now for what God might have you do with the HC. Or come serve for a couple of hours at MercyWorks to get a taste of what’s coming.
Other VCC ministries take God’s grace beyond our walls, like the Good Sam runs each Saturday morning and volunteers who drive and pick up folks from shelters to bring them to the Saturday night celebrations.

Or you could pick up a yellow bag by the exit doors and fill it up with the items listed on it and bring it back the following weekend. That simply saves us money from the MercyWorks fund and enables us to feed and care for more people. Demographics are shifting rapidly; NPR recently reported that according to the last census, there are now more people living below the poverty level in suburbs than in the cities.

Check out our friends at the One City Foundation at www.onecity.org/. Whiz Kids is a simple program to offer tutoring for at-risk kids.

If you want to expand your view and learn more about global poverty and the AIDS epidemic, go to http://www.one.org/

Of course, grab a copy of Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger or Just Generosity. It might rock your world.

And join the revolution.

tests

This past weekend I talked about three tests that I believe Peter describes in his first letter. Actually, I think the entire Bible consistently brings up these three: the Faith Test (can God be trusted?), the Character Test (can I be trusted?) and the Willing Heart Test (am I willing to change?).

For me, this idea of God testing us is a little nerve-wracking; I hated tests in school…the clammy feeling in your hands, the sound of the clock ticking, wondering if everyone else is ahead of you, and the sinking feeling that you studied the wrong things. Ouch.

I mentioned that even those who have no concept of God often have a grid for the idea of testing—usually saying it’s “character development”, as in: whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

But the philosopher in me would respond to the agnostic view with “why?” For whom is character being developed? If this is all there is to life—we are born, we breathe, we die—for what purpose is character being developed? Simply to live in some reasonable social order to avoid pain with other human beings that live and breathe and die in a short span as well?

That always brings me back to: it seems to me that if there are tests, there is a Tester…Someone who officiates the giving of tests for a purpose. In school, the purpose of a test is to ensure that the pupil has a grasp of the knowledge the teacher deems important. It’s assumed that having that knowledge will help the student handle the next level of living in order to ultimately function as an adult. It is purposeful.

And that’s why I believe God—the Ultimate Teacher—tests us. Testing tackles three questions, the first being: What is God’s will for me? The simplest and most straightforward answer is to make me like Jesus. We had a saying around here years ago: come as you are, you’ll be loved. That accurately expresses the heart of God. But when we come as we are to Jesus, I can almost guarantee that we won’t stay the same—we’ll change.

I quoted Rabbi Workmanstein: “God’s compassion draws us to Him as we are; His holiness demands that we change.”

There is no real tension between mercy (“come as you are”) and holiness (“you must change”) if we see them both as prescriptive for wholeness. God will make us into “little Christs”, replicas of His Son. That’s His business. But that raises another question: Why?

Perhaps there are two reasons. First, so He and I can deeply enjoy each other. The more He cleans me up—that is, in motives and heart—the closer I can get to Him, allowing a greater mutual enjoyment of all that He is. Second, so I can be used for His purposes. Each of us is a tool for God to accomplish His work.

Those two elements are actually a picture of marriage: a fulfilling, intimate relationship…with a mission to accomplish (to provide a working metaphor of the unconditional love God has for His church). I like thinking that my marriage has a mission that I am responsible for.

Which then brings me to another (and last) question: What’s God’s method to accomplish this?—Tests.

God spoke through the prophet Zechariah and said that He will “refine (His people) as silver is refined, and test them as gold is tested. They will call on My name, and I will answer them; I will say, 'They are My people,' and they will say, 'The Lord is my God.'" (Zechariah 13:9 New American Standard). Another time He reminded Jeremiah "I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind..." (Jeremiah 17:10a New American Standard).

When Abraham took his son Isaac upon the mountain to plunge a knife through Isaac’s—the child of the promise—breastbone, God never wanted a human sacrifice. That’s abominable. But Abraham did what God said. With his hand poised in the air ready to kill, God calls out “Abraham! Don’t stretch out your hand against the boy. Now I know that you’re obedient…” Did God limit His foreknowledge of what Abraham would do? That’s a theological discussion for another time (I’m personally not an open theism advocate).

But I can bet that Abraham knew now how far he would go to walk with his God. Abraham passed his test.

And believe me, from time to time we all have our Isaacs.

waterworld

I’m writing this morning on a plane heading to L.A. for a Vineyard pastors conference. But I’m thinking less about that and more about what happened this weekend: the baptisms get me every time.

You’d think I’d be over this after all these years.
There is a group of us pastors and leaders who stand behind the door and cheer when people exit after being baptized, high-fiving them as they come out. It’s a party. And the looks on their faces are priceless; some are beaming, some are sobbing, some are simply in shock, some don’t know how to process what just happened.

I call baptism efficacious symbolism. But even that can cause arguments in certain circles. In the early church, baptism appeared to be one-and-the-same with the decision to follow Jesus as Lord. But disagreements quickly rose in the church—along with splits—as to whether the water needed to be moving or still, whether the person was to go face forward or backward and not to mention pouring as opposed to dunking. The Didache was a collection of church instructions and practices (some very interesting) written within one hundred years after the resurrection. Regarding baptism, it reads:

Baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, in running water. But if thou hast not running water, baptize in other water. And if thou canst not in cold, then in warm. But if thou hast neither, pour water three times upon the head in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Didache 7:1).

Though we don’t baptize infants at VCC, there is a case to be made regarding the place of children in Biblical covenants and how that relates to baptism, though I think it gets a bit complicated based on the few examples of baptism in Acts. And I’m certainly no Biblical scholar, but Greek teachers say it’s hard to take a definitive immersion stance on the word baptizo. It certainly means whelmed, or to make fully wet or stained. It can be used to mean dip or to wash as well, as in the Pharisees getting upset with Jesus in Luke 11:38 because he didn’t wash—baptizo—before the meal.

Anyway, it’s not worth the argument, in my book. I personally lean into the death, burial and resurrection picture that our method of baptism presents…and we have to land somewhere as a practice. But the methodology is not doctrine to me. Ultimately I believe it’s the sign of being born into the family of God.

One Lord, one faith, one baptism, as Paul writes.

A few people ask me why I don’t do baptisms. We believe that the person who has had the most connection and personal influence with the person coming to Christ should be the baptizer. Remember, it’s the job of pastors to equip God’s people to do the ministry, and navigating someone through their decision to follow Jesus is the ultimate ministry.

One other thing. We don’t really know what to call these weekends. We’ve defaulted to Baptism Weekend. How original is that? Pretty lame, I’d say. Especially for something as cool as it is. People have suggested Wet ‘n Wild, Dunkapalooza, and so on. I don’t know; how do you name something that’s fun, electric, and yet deeply meaningful and significant?

I’ll buy a lunch for anyone who can come up with the ultimate title. A free lunch. I’ll have our Celebrations gang pick the best one.

Er, assuming we get something we can actually use.

holiness

But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: “Be holy, because I am holy.” 1 Peter 1:15-16

What does it mean to be holy? In what context have you sensed the holiness of God…and how did you respond?

In the next couple of weeks in this Peculiar People series, I want to tackle what it means to be holy...and what it's like to experience the holiness of God. There have been a few times for me, some very personal, but at times corporately as well.

Years ago I was at a large conference of believers. During the worship everyone began singing in the Spirit, or in tongues. Some musicologists believe that Gregorian chants have their roots in that practice. It makes me wonder; the commonalities certainly seem obvious. Hearing a massive group of people singing in different languages, in pitch, and go from a rise in cadence to a hushed awe—with no worship leader—had an amazing effect on me. It felt, well, holy.

Another time was in a meeting with someone who had a profound prophetic gift. He was prophesying over people, and reading their mail, as we used to say. Shaking his hand, I felt unnerved, uncovered, as if he could peer into my soul. It was particularly my sins of omission—my inward focus—that I feared would be exposed. Very strange. He was a kind man, though; there was no abuse of the gift. But to some degree I can only imagine how the disciples must have felt; several times the gospels note that “Jesus knew what they were thinking.” And remember: Jesus was untainted, filled with the Spirit without limit, as scripture says.

In another setting I was in a meeting where Dick Eastman spoke; it was shortly after his book on prayer came out: The Hour That Changes the World. I remember going forward for prayer and as he got near me my legs buckled; it was as if someone turned a switch off on my body. I was suddenly laying on my back facing the ceiling, not sure what happened. But there was a sense of being in a holy place, as if Power had stepped into the room. Fascinating.

What’s your story?


“Do not come any closer,” God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.” Exodus 3:5 (New International Version)

While he was speaking, I fainted and lay there with my face to the ground. But Gabriel roused me with a touch and helped me to my feet. Daniel 8:18 (New Living Translation)

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.” At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke. “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” Isaiah 6:1-5 (New International Version)

lbj

Sorry to be so late posting this. When I don’t speak, I lose my sense of rhythm.

Hope you enjoyed Laurie Beth Jones. It’s really tricky to engage the corporate world in a conversation about Jesus; it means that you think like a missionary: you study the culture, learn the language, and translate scripture into understood colloquialisms. Not easy. As a result, I think some of her writings have been maligned by a few evangelicals because of her attempt to communicate to a very different group than “church people”.

What are your thoughts?

Btw, if you weren’t at the last celebration—Sunday 11:30 a.m.—you really should check it out at https://www.vineyardcincinnati.com/lastweek.php and bump ahead about 33 minutes to see what we gave Laurie Beth as a gift after we introduced her.

I think we were a little loopy…

virginia tech

If you're just getting on, please check out the post after this one; there are some things that are near and dear to my heart that I wanted to express, but obviously the recent news demands a response. This morning we sent an email out to all of our Vineyard folks regarding the Virginia Tech shootings. For those of you not on our email list, here's what I sent...

Dear friends,

Like you, I’m stunned by the events at Virginia Tech now being called the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history. The news seems to be heightened by the trickle of information and the reserved answers given to reporters. I can only imagine the pain of parents attempting to reach their children and the shock of discovering their child was one of the victims. With two college-age daughters, my heart reeled.

Once again we are brought face-to-face with evil. After enduring a lifetime of both spiritual power and persecution, the apostle John recognized the peculiarity of the believer’s position in this world and the tug-of-war behind the scenes in the world’s events: “We know that we belong to God even though the whole world is under the rule of the Evil One.” (1 John 5:19 Today’s English Version). I hope none of us should ever experience what happened yesterday, yet we know there is a cosmic conflict into which we’re all drawn.

But this is not the time to sermonize. Rather, please take a moment in your busy day to pray for the families, school leaders, law enforcement officers and caregivers involved in these events.

· For the families of the victims, that the comfort and compassion of the Father be experienced to a degree perhaps never felt before…and the walk toward forgiveness that must one day begin.

· For school leaders who will second-guess every decision made during what must have been complete chaos and an overload of opinions on what to do.

· For law enforcement officers who once again had to rush into chaotic situations and make split-second assessments, not to mention the sensory overload of what they witnessed.

· And for the caregivers there: doctors, nurses, counselors and pastors who provide physical, emotional and spiritual care. I’m sure they feel overwhelmed not only in their jobs but with their own grief and empathy.

Like you, I will continue to catch the news during breaks in my day. But I’m asking God to make me not just a shocked observer, but someone who will intercede for those who are so broken at this time. Please join me in prayer throughout this week.

My love and appreciation to you all,
Dave Workman and the staff of VCC

peculiar people

As we looked for video ideas and production elements for this Peculiar People series, it sadly reinforced via video websites and blogs that Christians are usually seen as jerks. And often rightly so.

Don Imus was a ticking cultural time bomb. I was embarrassed as a Caucasian that anyone would refer to another race in such a frankly stupid and demeaning way. And it doesn’t help that conservative (and considered by some, Christian) talk shows took a curiously defensive posture and threw up the “What about the rappers?” argument. Please.

I’m in a group of guys that is a combination of African-American and Caucasian pastors. What my black brothers have to hear on a regular basis from Christians breaks my heart. When white evangelical pastors and radio preachers push for a return to our “Christian roots” and to restore a “Christian Nation”, my African-American friends don’t get that excited.

Why? Hey, it wasn’t that great for them.

When we make heroes in the church out of founding fathers like Washington and Jefferson (who clearly wrote racist comments about Africans, no matter whatever brilliant thoughts he had), both of whom held slaves, it’s easy to see why that’s not a dearly beloved picture to people of color. And I would suggest that however benignly we want to picture the “gentle slave-owner”, how can separating children from their parents, wives from husbands, a money-centered slave trade built on kidnapping (clearly an outlawed form of slavery in Exodus 21:16) and forcing people to do your work without pay be benevolent? I wouldn’t want to live like that.

John Wesley, in a letter to William Wilberforce, the driver behind outlawing slave trade in England in 1807, called American slavery, “the vilest that ever saw the sun.” Wesley wrote in one of his books: “When the vessels arrive at their destined port, the Negroes are again exposed naked to the eyes of all that flock together and the examination of their purchasers. Then they are separated to the plantations of their several masters, to see each other no more. Here you may see mothers hanging over their daughters . . . and daughters clinging to their parents, till the whipper soon obliges them to part. And what can be more wretched than the condition they then enter upon? Banished from their country, from their friends and relations for ever, from every comfort of life, they are reduced to a state scarce anyway preferable to that of beasts of burden.. . . . Did the Creator intend that the noblest creatures in the visible world should live such a life as this?”

Imagine if you were Jewish and having dinner at the Black Forest Restaurant with a friend and he suddenly said, “Boy, I wish Germany could return to the Golden Age of 1938. That’s when Christian Germany was at its peak.” Would that get you excited? Krystal Nacht was not a pleasant memory. And that was only the slippery slope.

I'm not anti-American or slamming the founding fathers. But they shouldn't be revered in the Church...if even for the simple reason that we are to value healing and reconciliation as preference to one another.

Besides, any marriage of the State and the Kingdom of God is disastrous, both theologically and historically. The final government will be a theocracy, not a democracy. And Jesus won’t be checking the polls. You cannot marry a democracy and the Kingdom of God; you’ll end up with a mediocre Church. Look at the state churches in European countries where only 2-3% of the people attend. It doesn’t work. Political power is the bane of the Kingdom of God.

I think I’m fairly conservative socially, but why do Christians seem to excuse or even side with racist remarks…as in, “Yes, that was an awful thing to say. But what about hip hop artists?” Doesn’t that seem disingenuous to anyone? It seems incredibly sad that Christians are seen not just as conservative but mean-spirited and racist.

So what does this have to do with peculiar people? Just this: we are people of God’s own possession. We aren’t of this world. We’re aliens and sojourners. Yes, we have a responsibility to be involved in the mechanics of this world. But we can’t be married to it. Peter calls us a “holy nation”. That means I have one primary allegiance: the new nation God is forming. A holy nation set apart.

And it’s not of this earth.


Then Jesus answered, “I am not an earthly king. If I were, my followers would have fought when I was arrested by the Jewish leaders. But my Kingdom is not of this world.” John 18:36 (New Living Translation)

But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that you should show forth the praises of Him who has called you out of darkness into his marvelous light: 1 Peter 2:9.

ps. The opening music to the message is a great tune by Mutemath called, naturally, Peculiar People. And for you music geeks out there, that’s the keyboardist and vocalist from the best overlooked band with one of the coolest CD’s of 2000: Earthsuit’s Kaleidoscope Superior. It was a classic.

eggcetera...

Pretty cool Easter, eh? I don’t think I’ll ever get over the feeling of watching people make a decision to follow Jesus. I love when that happens.

Honestly, I really wrestle with the whole “come-forward”-invitation thing. It’s the churchy-altar-call-tradition that I struggle with. I hope you don’t mind me saying that and that you understand where I’m coming from. I think it’s the problem I have with anything that smells manipulative…or preachers who seem to want to generate some emotional response…or just the hokiness of some American-church-subculture practices. Besides, we really don’t have a decent scriptural precedent for it. The closest thing is Peter’s mind-blowing message after the Holy Spirit falls on Pentecost in Acts 2…and even then someone yells out from the crowd, “What do we do?” Peter simply responds with “Repent and get baptized in the name of Jesus so your sins are forgiven and then you’ll receive the gift of the Spirit.” Then it says he kept on talking like that for a long time. And remember, this wasn’t even a church service. Three thousand people got baptized that day.

That’s a little different from the typical church. You can’t manufacture that…that’s simply God.

Anyway, despite my idiosyncrasies and personal weirdness, it was awesome. People genuinely weeping with desperate faces, hungry for God. And I’m sure some of the electricity I feel has to do with the personal significance Easter has for me. April 14, 1974…a million years ago. Yesterday.

Oh yeah…and the fact that lots of people may only come to church on Easter or Christmas. It just seems like the right time to fish…even with a traditional hook. Seize the day. Or carpe carpum…seize the fish.

But it sure was cool.

Happy Easter, gang! Let’s fling a feast.

hellboy

I wish I could have spent some time talking about life after judgment. Particularly hell.

Except I think the problem with many of us pastors talking about hell is that our hearts aren’t sufficiently broken for those who don’t yet know Jesus. Our warnings sound hollow at best. But here's my best shot.

Isn't there incongruity with a God of love and a place of final punishment called hell?

If we think of Jesus as being the ultimate expression of God’s sacrificial love, then His words should carry a special weight because no one else taught more about hell. Jesus pushes us to see life from an eternal perspective. In Luke 12, He tells His followers not to be scared of hyper-religious terrorists who could persecute and murder them: “I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after the killing of the body, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.”

But if God can throw someone into hell, how can He possibly love?

Let me give you another picture of hell: it is the one place where the self-centered are protected from the dangers of love, as C. S. Lewis put it. Jesus actually said that hell was created for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25:41). The word most commonly translated in the New Testament as hell is Gehenna. Gehenna is derived from a literal place called the “valley of Hinnom” found in the Old Testament—a place where pagan Jews would commit human sacrifice by throwing their children in an ever-burning city garbage dump. When Jesus referred to Gehenna, he borrowed literal images of worms and flames and burning refuse. Every Jew could understand that description because of the awful reality of the human garbage dump. It was a frightening illustration for hell.

But if we can’t conceive of a God who would send someone to such a place, what does it say about that same God who would give His own son over to a tortuous death to rescue us from that end?

The story is this: our condition is so heinous, so unapproachable, so hideous, that only the drastic measure of a perfect sacrifice could destroy the disease of sin in us. The entire race is infected with an AIDS-like virus that destroys the soul...and only one antidote exists. Sin so miniaturizes the human condition that the first step into God’s presence is as high as Everest...we cannot step up; we are unable. That puts hell in another light for me: God, who will separate the infected from the healthy, comes to us with a vaccine drawn from His own veins. The looming of hell makes the God of Love even greater to me. Hell is the only refuge from holy, perfect love.

But does it last forever…and with no hope?

We are creatures locked in time and space; eternity & infinity are impossible concepts to grasp—our understanding of time is stringing minute after minute together in a linear fashion. Eventually, even Death and Hell—as personified in the book of Revelation—are thrown into a lake of fire. And who knows what that completely entails?

So do I believe in a literal hell?

What makes the difference? A dream is just as frightening if you never wake up. If the images used by the New Testament writers were metaphorical, is that preferable to the awful reality they are trying to convey? I would say hell is hell; and if the Captain of the ship says get in My Son’s lifeboat, I would trust His judgment.

Simply put: our pictures of hell are made dangerously real by the integrity of the Messenger.

time

Okay, I’m writing something before the weekend. But there was an interesting essay from rock-star-preacher Bono in last week’s Time magazine (and how about that for a provocative cover story?—not bad, actually). And I promise this is my last Bono quote.

He gives a little encouragement on how Europe has to help its southern brother Africa. He writes:

“Our humanity is diminished when we have no mission bigger than ourselves…[has he been watching VCC’s celebrations…?]. And one way to define who we are might be to spend more time looking across the eight miles of Mediterranean Sea that separates Europe from Africa.”

He goes on to say:

“…As individual nations, we may argue over the garden fence, but when a neighbor’s house goes up in flames, we pull together and put out the fire. History suggests it sometimes takes an emergency for us to draw closer. Looking inward won’t cut it. As a professional navel gazer, I recommend against that form of therapy for anything other than songwriting. We discover who we are in service to one another, not the self.”

Whoa. That’s pretty good for a musician who barely plays guitar.

But he does have a killer voice. Both musically…and prophetically.

healing

Healing, particularly healing for the physically sick, is an emotionally charged subject. And it still is for me.

I’m a product of the Jesus Movement of the early 70’s…hippies, druggies, musicians, artists by the thousands were coming to Christ across the U.S., an alternative culture that had shrugged off the mores of the previous generation. Tune in, turn on, drop out. If it was mainstream, if it was the establishment, I wanted no part of it. The Vietnam War was in full blaze and a mandatory military draft in place. Every year a lottery of birthdates was held; my number was 162. Massive protests were held regarding the war and civil rights; the country was polarized. The Evangelical Church, personified in some ways by Billy Graham, was seen as a partner with the Nixon administration policies. It seemed like a Continental Divide between the generations. And into that setting swept the Jesus movement and the charismatic movement, crossing over denominational lines and shaking churches all over the world. Who let the hippies in here?

Before I came to Christ, I had rejected everything that represented The Man. I had to unlearn everything, including all the good and bad elements that come with revolutionary rebellion. I stumbled into a Pentecostal church and drank in everything that was offered…including the radical idea that Jesus was still doing the same things, and I mean everything, that He did when He walked this planet. Including healing and casting out devils. Whew.

That required a total paradigm shift for me on every level. Eventually I wanted more, and ultimately thought my church was too churchy, too conventional, too safe. Hey, if Jesus wanted to multiply Wonder bread and Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks, He could do it…if we had faith. I would leave church services and confess my healing, pop out my contact lenses (I can’t read anything unless it’s 3 inches from my eyeballs), and drive home. Frighteningly. Anita wouldn’t get in the car with me. It just seemed to me that if you were going to go for it, go for it. Don’t be double-minded, don’t be wishy-washy.

Okay, I’ve mellowed out a bit. Maybe it’s a thin line between presumption and faith. I went through a period of no doctors, no medicine, no movies, no TV…just Jesus. My dad refused to take medication for his heart (very treatable), and ending up dying from heart disease. I remember seeing him in the hospital before I drove to Orlando to begin a recording session, and he looked at me and said, “This faith thing is different when it’s you.”

That was the last conversation I had with him. He took a turn for the worse within a few days and I flew home to see him. He didn’t pull out. My mom went into shock; she was convinced that dad was going to be healed. It never entered her mind that he wouldn’t. She was like a “faith-bulldog”. But it didn’t happen.

It took me awhile to pray for anyone again. I think I came into a healthier balance. I don’t have all the answers. But I still believe Jesus heals; as a matter of fact, I’m more convinced than ever that He has called us to heal the sick. I can’t read the gospels without running headlong into it. I’m just not as self-assured of the mechanics.

But I now know it has to be driven by compassion. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give.” Matthew 10:8

L4C recap video

Just thought you might enjoy seeing the recap video of the Luke 4 Challenge that was shown at the end of the celebration last weekend. You can check it out here...

https://www.vineyardcincinnati.com/vcc.php?id=1016&play=2

12,691,608

That’s the number of dollars committed to the Luke 4 Challenge as of 5pm Saturday afternoon. When Bobby finished the video on Saturday morning, there were still commitment cards coming in, so the video didn’t reflect the latest numbers.

I think if you would have told me ten years ago that we were going to give nearly 13 million dollars to build a place called The Healing Center for our city, drill wells in Nigeria, and create an awesome environment for the next generation, I would have thought, “What are you smoking?”

I have such a mix of emotions right now. I am so impressed by the sacrifices people made toward something that was really outside of themselves, that is, not about their personal need. I’m amazed that people caught a glimpse of a vision and responded. Yesterday I just wanted to pogo during the worship, but I am getting older (and then I think: So?). I also talked with Anita about those who sat on the fringes and really didn’t take part…I wondered how they experienced the celebration. It made me a bit sad. And last, I have to admit there’s a measure of emotional relief…not so much that we made the goal, but that I’m not crazy after all.

But mostly I simply feel awed by God. During the series, I must have read 2 Chronicles 5 a dozen times at home (and chapter 6 isn’t half-bad either—Solomon’s prayer will reorient your neurons…and then what follows in 7:1-3 is mind-boggling…). But I love it when they dedicate the temple—they are so thrilled to have a permanent place for the ark of the covenant (representing the presence of God in their midst)—with all the singers and 120 priests blowing trumpets (you think our worship band is loud?), and then the glory of God fills the temple and the priests can’t even stand up. Now that’s a Pentecostal church-experience.

I really sensed the glory of God filling VCC during each of the celebrations. I don’t know how many people came up to talk to me who were just shaking…no, vibrating…and ready to burst into tears at what they were experiencing.

One of the best was a man whom I had never met before grabbed me in the atrium and said, “I’m seventy years old and I’ve never experienced what you talked about with the Holy Spirit…until today” and then he and his wife burst into tears. He said, “Can you imagine being seventy and never experiencing God like that until now?” I said, “Hey, better late than never!” and I really meant it.

I think this was one for the history books.

…and with them one hundred and twenty priests blowing trumpets in unison when the trumpeters and the singers were to make themselves heard with one voice to praise and to glorify the Lord, and when they lifted up their voice accompanied by trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and when they praised the Lord saying, “He indeed is good for His lovingkindness is everlasting,” then the house, the house of the Lord, was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God. (2 Chronicles 5:12-14 New American Standard Bible)

wow

What a weekend!

I’m in Nashville visiting our youngest daughter. I broke the twenty-three day fast with a bowl of vegetable soup and a Diet Coke in a Frisch’s in Louisville. It tasted fabulous! But the sight of hundreds of people coming forward—some coming up as a family, some laughing, some somber, some actually dancing, some stopping and praying—was still buzzing in my head. No kidding. It made me very proud of our church. I love this place.

The most common question I heard was: “Do you think we’ll make it?”…meaning, do you think we’ll actually hit the $12.6 million number? My spiritual history has taken me through lots of different phases, including a time when I was part of the word-of-faith camp. I learned a lot there…but like a lot of our spiritual journey, there is always some unlearning, especially as Jesus continually strips us of our formulaic hearts…because He is all about raw relationship and honesty. Or grace and truth. Always.

Anyway, I never had that “over-the-top” faith-confident “heck-yeah-we’re-going-to-make-it” attitude. I’m not sure if I should have or not. But on the other hand, I haven’t felt anxious either. I guess I just felt like this was God’s idea from the start…and whatever we each sacrificed was just right. And in the end, Jesus can multiply whatever we give.

I had several people tell me they would mail in their commitment card this week…they needed a few more days to make their decision. Plus, in any single weekend we can have up to 25% of our regular attendees missing. That’s probably why our coaches advised us to not make any announcement for another couple of weeks.

One story I wish I could have told was from one of our volunteer teachers who wrote that the kids in her class in Discoveryland were asked to draw a picture of how they imagined the Healing Center. After a while, one little boy named Donavon called her over and said, “I’m trying to draw hope. What do you think it would look like?” How cool is that?

One more: here’s a great picture from a family who adopted a little boy with a missing arm. After the first weekend of the Luke 4 Challenge, he came home, went to his room, and without any prompting wrote this on his blackboard:

Love to you all. Thanks for being the Church.

saint bono

How can you not like a guy that quotes Psalm 116 in one of the biggest rock tours of all times?

You've got to love him. He makes the Church blush.

"...And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" Esther 4:14b

money

I had some people ask me about a comment I made this weekend. I was talking about one of the groups in the “pie chart”: the approximated 15 gifts that would make up one-third of the finances needed for the Luke 4 Challenge—gifts between $100,000 and $1M. When I mentioned what a sacrificial commitment might look like in that group, I said to consider leaving a legacy of giving now instead of a bigger inheritance for your kids later. And then I off-handedly said, “I’m not a big believer in inheritances…they need to work for their money anyway!”

Some folks asked me about the story the week before of my mom feeling guilty she and dad weren’t able to leave their kids anything...that she had become a Christian and read in Proverbs 13: A good man leaves an inheritance for his children’s children. So what’s with that?

Keep in mind that Israel had an agrarian culture; leaving land was critical for children to not end up enslaved. But today, most inheritances are more like windfalls than supplying a critical need. As I mentioned to my mom, the spiritual life she gave me was a much better legacy than money. What’s more, I would rather trust God myself for what my needs are…and I’m pretty sure I would have been more encouraged if they did have money had they given it to the Kingdom. I’ll take spiritual modeling any day of the week.

Let’s be honest: sometimes it’s odd talking about money. It feels very personal.

You know the old stat: Jesus talked more about money than heaven or hell combined. My response has been, “Yeah, but that was God. And I’m not God.” But in the past few years I’ve been thinking differently. Er…I don’t mean I think I’m God, but this:

I have some friends with a prophetic bent, so I’ve often taken people struggling to hear God to meet them and have them pray over them. I’ve also tapped people I know with a hospitality gift to help when someone is visiting from out-of-town. But somehow I never connected the gift that some people have for generating income with asking them to give in a big way to a missional project…and in my mind that’s just about everything at the Vineyard. But even more, I’m convinced that 99.9% of us are unbelievably affluent compared to the global village. Our ability to generate income is fantastic when juxtaposed with the rest of the world. It's a gift.

So I’m over it. If the cause is God-honoring, if it’s Spirit-led, if there is integrity with the people involved, and if it’s outward-focused, then I say: let’s cough it up. We’re in this together. And the reason why is because we need each other…and we can exponentially do more.

I think those are good reasons. What do you think?