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What is religion, really?

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.

(James 1:27, ESV)

What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food,and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.

(James 2:14-18, ESV).

I have been meditating on the popular idea that Christianity is “not a religion, it’s a relationship!”

I think this has become popular because the word “religion” is associated with human, man-made customs and traditions—and to many a “works righteousness” outlook where I am made right with God by what I do.

I am a huge grace guy when it comes to the doctrine of justification, practically Lutheran in that regard, actually. There is no doubt, however, that the real, life-giving faith thrust on us by God’s grace creates some sort of change in behavior, even if it is as “small” as “just” a humble attitude of repentance.

Our salvation is by a faith (given in grace) that, perhaps paradoxically, demands to be practiced. I don’t think the thought stops there, though. In the “traditional” view, “religion” is defined as my work for God. In the truly Christian sense, however, I think that the religion that we practice is not our work, but through the Holy Spirit becomes God’s work through and for us. Think about that.

Our religion is caring for the broken and helpless, becoming instruments of God’s love and grace and light. Our practice is prayer, preaching, Eucharist, Baptism, and fellowship. God graciously works in and through us in all these things, for our benefit and his glory! It’s not about what we have done or will do. It’s what He is doing.

It’s not that true Christianity is “a relationship, not a religion,” but rather a religion soaked in a relationship. True Christianity can’t exist without a relationship with Jesus, to be sure, but that relationship can’t help but be made manifest in our lives.

I’m beginning to see religion not as fundamentally separate from spirituality, but rather, as God’s work in and through me, symbiotically entangled. I don’t want to avoid God’s Christian religion any more. I want breathe it in and out, drink it up, absorb it, become married to it, have it permeate my life. Because God’s religion is nothing less than his Spirit overwhelming every aspect of my life.

If that doesn’t turn the world’s concept of spirituality and faith upside down, I don’t know what would.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:8)

In high school I was going through a particularly difficult time, wondering if I could continue to do the right thing. While speaking to my Dad over the phone (I was at boarding school at the time), he encouraged me by sharing this Scripture passage with me. It has continued to be a source of strength when I feel I just can’t take another step. Over the years, I have shared it with many others, and recently it came across my radar again in an email. Lately, I’ve been pondering the whole concept of biblical grace, and what it means for humanity—for Christians and others. What I believe this passage is saying is that God desires and gracefully equips us to sacrificially give our resources and selves for the Body of Christ. When we do this, when we love each other in a radical way—the world takes note. Check out verse 9 in the NLT:

As the Scriptures say, They share freely and give generously to the poor. Their good deeds will be remembered forever.

We love each other, and then our witness starts to mean something. Do you love your Christian family? Do you love your Catholic brothers and sisters, your Baptist neighbors, your Charismatic relatives? Do you treat your local church as a treasured family, or an exclusive club?We are called to share the Good News and make disciples of all nations. The first step is to tell the world who we belong to, and the Scripture is clear.

They will know we are Christians by our love.

As a kid, my family participated in Advent through a liturgy that I assume my father created, drawing from various sources and scripture. Each Sunday night in Advent, we would turn off the fluorescent bulbs in our dining room, light a candle on the Advent Wreath, and pray together through Scripture. As we did this we traced the biblical prophecies of the coming Messiah, culminating in their fulfillment in the birth of Christ. From the first time we did this on, something about the liturgy—and especially the Church Year—stuck with me.

There are a multitude of reasons that all Christians would benefit from engaging with the Christian calendar, but here are the Big Three for me:

1) The Christian Calendar brings us into the drama of God’s redemptive story.

As we recall the longing for Messiah in Advent, the joy of Christmas, the penitential Lent, the victory of Easter, the thankfulness at Pentecost, etc., we re-enact God’s True Story. Each year we join together as a church, players for an audience of One, literally ordering our lives by the Gospel narrative. As we do this we proclaim the Good News to the world that watches and to each other in a way that places Christ at the center of our lives.

2) The Christian Calendar provides a time-tested spiritual formation strategy that works.

Just as an actor or actress can’t help but be affected at least in some way by the character he or she plays, we too are shaped by our actions and thoughts when we pattern our lives after Christ’s. It is simple enough to be understood by children, but flexible enough that there are endless avenues for creativity. And no matter what, by holding to the outline of the liturgical calendar, you’ll hit all the major discipleship points: repentance, faith, belief, redemption, walking in the Holy Spirit, waiting for the Lord, rejoicing in God’s majesty, grieving in sin, everything in the Nicene Creed. At the very least, the Church Year is a proven tool for teaching the Gospel story in a very participatory, immersive way over time. At its best, the Christian Calendar provides a way for us to order our lives around Christ, instead of secular holidays and the American academic year.

3) The Christian Calendar connects all of us to the Church Universal across time and space.

Some form of the liturgical calendar has been in use for at least 1,600 years, and possibly even more. All our Christian ancestors practiced the Church Year, most of today’s Christians across the world will participate, and many Christians in the future will also join the the rhythm of Holy Feasts and Ordinary Time. It reminds us that our faith is one that is about God calling a people out for himself, and that his plans are much, much bigger than any one person—yet each of us is loved, known, and called individually by God to be a part of Christ’s Body on Earth.

If you’re already familiar with the Church Year, there’s a possibility that it’s become old habit. I’d like to encourage you to take a step back, pause, and reflect on the timeless majesty and usefulness of this great Christian tradition. If you’ve never really given the Christian Year a thought past Christmas and Easter, consider observing the major feasts this year, starting in Advent. You don’t have to go to special services or anything (although these rhythms are designed to be observed in community)—just make yourself aware of what’s happening on the liturgical calendar, and pause each week to meditate on the Scripture that the season is based on.

I believe you’ll be blessed.

Further reading:

• Church Year Spirituality
•  Church Year Spirituality: Practical Wisdom
• The Liturgical Year

Although the Internet Monk went to be with the Lord just a few months ago, he continues to be a spiritual mentor to me. Michael Spencer’s book Mere Churchianity (published posthumously) is a gem that aptly confronts the need for evangelical Christianity to stop with the nonsense and get back to what he calls “Jesus-shaped spirituality.” This book is for those tired of church, those wondering where Jesus is in the landscape of contemporary evangelicalism, and those that just want a better understanding of what it means to follow Jesus. I loved this book, and I plan to re-read it many times—I hope I can give some copies to those that would benefit from it. Here are some quotes to whet your appetite:

Behind the Jesus Is Here sign is a health, wealth, and prosperity “gospel” that removes God from the status of sovereign Lord and turns him into a convenient vending machine…I wonder if Jesus mentioned promises of earthly goodies to the repentant criminal hanging on the cross next to him. (p. 23)

The Christian life isn’t a denial of the prodigal son parable, with the prodigal suddenly becoming a good boy and making his father proud. It is lived at the point where the empty-handed, thoroughly humbled son kneels before his father and has nothing to offer. (p. 126)

I’m looking for a spiritual experience that looks like, feels like, sounds like, lives like, loves like, and acts like Jesus of Nazareth. It’s that simple. (p. 69)

That’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Many of you (even those that know me pretty well) wouldn’t characterize me as a minimalist. I don’t have a modern-style home, my desk is sometimes pretty cluttered, and I tend to buy more stuff than I really need. Yet, I am becoming a minimalist. Minimalism as a philosophy has really stuck with me lately, and I am genuinely trying to apply it many areas of my life. A few things that I’ve been keeping in mind:

• Minimalism isn’t necessarily about a chic decor or ridiculous extremes that limit you from living life to fullest. It’s about appreciating what you have and learning to identify what you really need.
• Minimalism is a process. No one can just a flip a switch and become something they’re not. Minimalism is another part of life’s journey that I’m embarking on. I’m not the perfect minimalist, and I’ll never be the perfect minimalist, but I’m getting better at it, and I’m looking forward to where it takes me.
• Minimalism has a spiritual component that is highly compatible with Christianity. In fact, my decision to intentionally pursue a simpler, more minimal life flows directly from my Christianity. I don’t want to be defined by materialism. I want to make time to sit in silence before God. I want to never lose sight of the “mere” basics: That we are saved by grace through faith in the resurrected Jesus, and that we are called to love God and love people. I want to make Proverbs 30:7-9 my prayer.

My current favorite places to learn about minimalism:

• mnmlist
• becoming minimalist

I’ve struggled a lot over the years with the idea of calling…that very specific sense from God as to what you’re supposed to do with your life. I’ve never had a “light from heaven” moment where my grand purpose in life was revealed to me. Rather, I feel like God teaches me slowly and methodically as I strive for a life of daily obedience.

Although I think God has been faithful to communicate his will for me in this way, it is sometimes discouraging when you hear all of the talk in evangelical circles regarding everybody else’s “call”…especially when you’re in vocational ministry. You start wondering if there’s something wrong with you, because you didn’t have a dramatic, ecstatic experience of divine communication.

Because of these struggles, I’ve become fairly recently interested in doctrines of vocation. Who knew Christendom even had such a thing? But as I learn about the historical Christian perspective on calling and vocation, I’m deeply encouraged, and I feel confirmed in my sense of how God is revealing my vocation to me.

One Sunday, my pastor preached on this idea, and his statements really resonated with what I’ve already been thinking. He said that in general, your calling from God probably exists at the intersection of your greatest passion, your gifts and abilities, the world’s need, and God’s glory. What a great way to think about vocational purpose.

How have you discerned God’s calling on your life?

This book is getting old now, but I just read it for the first time. I’m glad I waited, so I could separate it a bit from the hype that surrounded it on its first release. I found it to be a remarkably easy to read, beautifully written collection of essays on what Christianity is all about. Miller has a way of disarming you with his gentleness and wit, and then stabbing you with the cold, hard truth when you recognize yourself in his portraits of those that have missed the real and simple message of Jesus regarding sin, grace, and redemption. I  alternately laughed (like, out loud) and became very serious.

So much of this book is worth reading and re-reading…and I can’t even begin to talk about all of it here. The part that hit me like a freight train was the section on how we talk about love, beginning on page 218 in the paperback edition. Miller notes the economic language with which we discuss our human relationships: we invest in people, our relationships can become bankrupt, and people are priceless. He says,

“The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money….This was the thing that had smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did.”

As he explained how this is played out on both the church and personal level, I felt my heart sink. This was me. For the past 2, 3, 4 years, I’ve withdrawn from many human relationships—with Christians and non-Christians, family members and friends—because I didn’t think it was worth the effort. I didn’t think it worth the effort because I believed no one would really put in the same kind of work in the relationship as I would…and if they’re not going to be equally as “invested” in the relationship, why even have one?

As I pondered this part of the book out loud with my wife after reading, I had to struggle to keep my emotions in check as the full weight of my own selfishness hit me. Even if my grossly unfair assumptions about other people were true, this is no reason to withhold Christ’s love and grace and commitment to them. After all, it’s not my love to withhold. Any love I can give comes by grace through Christ anyway. The more I thought about it, the more I found this mindset of love and commitment as a trade good to be deeply ingrained in my worldview. I am honestly ashamed, because I can look back now and see why many of my relationships have failed, how I could have been a better husband, and the impact it had on all sorts of personal ministry. To make matters worse, all I had to do was take my cue from the clear example of our Savior, who loves us so much—despite anything we have done—that he died for us, so that we would be redeemed and have life.  I believe this is the kind of unconditional love I should be sharing with all people.

I’m uncertain as to the specifics of what this means going forward—all this happened about 9 a.m. this morning. I know I need to stop withholding friendship and commitment based on a perceived level of reciprocity, and I really need to mediate anew on Ephesians 5, which begins this way:

”…walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God...”

Based on some things I’ve been reading online, as well some recommendations from friends, I decided to pick up a copy of the 2007 revision of the New Living Translation, 2nd edition. I understand that original Living Bible was a paraphrase (sort of The Message before The Message) and that the first edition of the New Living Translation was not without its problems…but word on the street (er, ‘net) is that the NLT 2nd edition, and especially the 2007 revision, is pretty top-notch—undoubtedly one of the best “dyanimic equivenlce” (thought for thought) translations available.

So far I have yet to convinced that it’s the best of its breed, but I have to say I’ve really enjoyed reading from it. My understanding is that the goal of the NLT was to keep things simple, clear, and very easy to read. So you won’t find lots of big words, and you’ll find it a pleasure to read aloud. Unlike “essentially literal” (word-for-word, as much as possible) translations, Paul’s letters are modified to that the sentence structure makes a bit more sense to English speakers…and it makes a world of difference. While reading my ESV and NLT together, I immediately felt like I had a better grasp on what Paul was saying from the NLT. Part of that is because the NLT adds implied words, where as the ESV, being essentially literal, doesn’t. This is especially helpful in certain sections of Romans, where Paul is talking specifically to/about certain people groups. The NLT provides helpful headings and modifies some sentences with things like, “So, for the Israelites…” or “Remember, Gentiles…” This keeps things straight in your head…with an essentially literal translation, it can be easy to get confused by Paul’s giant run-on sentences and think that he is either speaking in a global sense to or to different group of people.

That being said, there are tradeoffs. After years of study with the NASB and ESV, the Pauline epistiles—while easier to understand—don’t sound like Paul to me. Many of his strongly phrased arguments and rhetorical devices get reworded in a way that seems softened. For example, the repeated exclamation “By no means!” (ESV) throughout Romans is translated “Of course not!” in the NLT. In Romans 9:20, the ESV states,

“….who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ “

The NLT renders the same verse like this:

“No, don’t say that. Who are you, a mere human being, to argue with God? Should the thing that was created say to the one who created it, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ “

While the essence of this verse is certainly intact, we also lose the sense of admonishon from the ESV and  the word-picture of God as potter or “molder” of our lives. I’ve noticed this about a few passages throughout the Old and New Testaments in NLT; the essence of the meaning is there, but some of the symbolism/word meanings are lost. This robs the scripture of some of its original and intended literary richness.

See how the venerable 23rd Psalm loses a bit of its grandeur…. Here’s the NLT rendering of  Psalms 23:1-4:

 The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name. Even when I walk through the darkest valleys I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.

And the ESV:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

The more formal language of the ESV is both more familiar and more meaningful to me. Phrases like “…paths of righteousness for his name’s sake” and “the valley of shadow of death” just seem more like the way Holy Scripture should be. Naturally, I recognize that in this specific case, my thoughts are highly subjective and based mostly on a certain set of aesthetic preferences.

One thing I really appreciate about the NLT is how it makes certain culturally awkward (or even incrompehsible) verses accesible to the English speaking crowd. Take Ps. 147:10 in the ESV, for example:

“His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the legs of a man…”

Okay, that’s awkward ;). Here it is in the NLT:

“He takes no pleasure in the strength of a horse or in human might.”

That makes a little more sense, doesn’t it?

Obviously, neither the ESV as an essentially literal translation, nor the NLT as a dynamically equivalent translation are  perfect. But, from what I can gather, they are both great translations each in their own right, and accomplish each of their very different goals well. So I’m very glad I picked up my NLT…I anticipate many blessings by using it alongside my trusty ESV, and I’m now more convinced than ever that both essentially literal and dynamically equvialent translations are needed and should be studied by all Christians.

Further reading:

• Who Translated the New Living Translation? (And More Thoughts on Advocating English Translations)
• Words in the New Living Translation (Thoughts about dynamically equivalent translation in the NLT)