General Christianity

As those of us in the U.S. prepare for 4th of July festivities, I want to recognize the main things I am grateful for as an American: Unprecedented freedom of religion, broad cultural support–at least in principle–for transcendent human rights, and some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world.

At the same time I recognize my country has often fallen tragically–even horrifically–short of its ideals, and in fact was founded on and remains committed to certain concepts, assumptions, and practices that are fundamentally incompatible with my faith.

It is important for me to rember that no matter how influenced the United States has been or will be by Christianity, my country is not my savior, my hope, or my church, and could never be.

I am thankful to be a “resident alien” in the USA. And I pray for grace to be a good citizen and serve my fellow Americans so they will know the goodness of God in Christ.

But my allegiance–and the foundational focus of my energy and attention–can only ever be to Christ alone and his people in every nation.

Like many my age and younger, I went through a fairly severe period of deconstructing my faith, trying to make sense of what we read in the teachings of Jesus in light of my day-to-day experiences in places claiming to be expressions of his church.

Let me tell you my deconstruction was catalyzed by both intellectual and relational challenges, but neither slam-dunk arguments nor platitudes initiated a reconstruction.

Instead, it was faith working in love through a few of God’s people.

Instead of simply throwing their hands up in despair, they encouraged (not guilted) me not to give up (I wanted to), faithfully walking with me, even as I grumbled and protested.

Instead of deconstructing my deconstruction, they treated me like family.

Instead of arguing with my reasons for despair, they actively showed me a reason to hope by their example.

Instead of picking apart my faulty doctrine, they simply, patiently, gently witnessed to the character of God in Christ.

Instead of asking me to get it together, they invited and included me in the liturgical and social life of the church.

Room was given for doubt, for questions, for frustration, for grief, for healing, for exploration.

The main thing was that I always knew I was loved–and that love was from God–but it was made visible and tangible by his people.

One time, I was visiting a mainstream, large, influential American Evangelical church for a mid-week special service.

They had invited a denominational leader to come and speak.

He said in his talk–which I will not dignify by calling it a sermon–that he believed in capital punishment.
With a gleam in his eye and a delighted smile, he said if it was up to him, he would “line them up and fry ’em three-at-a-time!”

This was met with laughter, applause, and even cheers.

Then a worship song.

⁜ ⁜ ⁜

I knew then that the church and its leadership in America are so sick, and so twisted in on ourselves, that we have lost sight of the heart of Jesus.

The gods we worship are preference and privilege, comfort, cliques, and convenience, along with the evil spirits of nationalism and military might.

Much of the church as we see it is a shell of a thing, an empty form, having long rejected the lordship of Christ and actively quenched the Spirit.

It’s easy to see:

where tears of compassion have been replaced with condescension and anger,

where tender-hearted pleading has been supplanted by top-down dictates,

where kind, patient conversation has been subverted by orders to speak only what is allowed by a select few,

where the word “justice” is met with suspicion,

where the the poor know they will be blamed for their plight,

where the segregation of language and culture are maintained,

where the appeal to fear is made so much more than the declaration of hope,

and ESPECIALLY where’s there’s little interest in speaking about Jesus, learning about Jesus, and walking with Jesus in every day life,

and ESPECIALLY where the radical, non-violent, forgiving way of the Cross is dismissed as “not practical” and “unrealistic,”

…the glory of God has left the Temple.

⁜ ⁜ ⁜

But I believe our God pours fresh water into dry riverbeds.

There is a Rock that quenches the thirst of those in the wilderness.

There is a holy habitation that will not be demolished, before which the gates of hell must dissolve.

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

In my experience, it seems the default position of many Christians towards their siblings in Christ is one of distrust.

Often, there are good reasons for this.

Other times, it’s really about a lack of faith in the power and provision of God in Christ–by the Spirit–to see us through relational risk and disagreement.

Either way, God calls his people toward a kind of Spirit-powered love that results in well-founded mutual confidence over and against underlying, anxious suspicion.

It is not so much about simply trusting people more per se, but rather a deeper entrusting of ourselves and our Christian family to Christ, so that confidence is built on the demonstrated desire for one another to have–above all–greater communion with Christ, in the non-violent, non-coercive, truthful-yet-graceful way of Christ.

---

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

I reject the notion that the solution to any communal tension is to pretend it doesn’t exist by not talking about it.

As a pastor I have been explicitly discouraged on occasion from speaking about certain topics in the church because the topic itself–not simply the way or time in which in which it was approached–was considered inherently divisive.

Yet topics in themselves do not have the power to divide. Only our reactions and responses to them do.

And by not speaking about difficult topics openly and keeping each other accountable to loving, respectful dialog, we rob ourselves of the opportunity to actually resolve tensions in a healthy way.

We have already surrendered to the demonic spirit of division.

By fostering a culture of unhealthy silence, we sponsor a culture of suspicion that necessarily leads to fear, relational rejection, and pain.

Worst of all, we are behaving as if our mutual faith in Christ and love for Christ in one another is not truly enough to be the ground and glue of our relationships.

Either we can trust Christ and his Spirit with our whole selves and community (including disagreements and tensions) or we can’t.

I believe Christ is trustworthy.

I wholeheartedly believe the church is meant to credibly model and offer a different way of life than what the rest of the world experiences.

In particular, the distinguishing mark of the church is radical love for one another, for the sake of Christ.

As long as Sundays remain mostly segregated…

As long as women are discouraged from exercising their spiritual gifts and demeaned when they do…

As long as children sense they are a burden in the worship service…

As long as singles don’t find a sense of real, every-day family in the household of faith…

As long as keeping the peace is more important than peacemaking in our communities…

As long as certain topics are “off limits” for fear of offense in our gatherings…

As long as we demand and are satisfied with worldly ways of leading congregations…

As long as we act as if our obligations to one another are met via an occasional check in the offering and pleasantries in the parking lot…

As long as convenience and preference are the determining factors for level of involvement and degree of commitment…

As long as we allow American partisan differences to sow demonic division instead of inspire biblical discussion…

…we are missing our vocation of radical love for one another!

This week we were listening to Spotify in our home and the song “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2 came on. My son Jensen wanted to know if it was about Jesus ? It was a reasonable question, because Christianity talks a lot about blood. And it’s weird, let’s be honest. We talk about being “washed in the blood” and we sing songs with words like “there’s power in the blood,” and my personal favorite: “there is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Emmanuel’s veins.” It’s a little gross.

Have you ever wondered what’s up with the whole “blood of Jesus” thing? Read More “Why Christians are always talking about the blood of Jesus”

Edited 2023-09-22

You know the feeling. You wake up on a typical Sunday morning, roll over, and feel a sense of dread, followed swiftly by a pang of guilt.

I should really go church…but maybe just not today… You would never say it out loud, but inside you’re thinking, I hate going to church.

So many people I speak to (even young, Christian ministry leaders) seem to hate going to church. You might not even know why you have that stubborn resistance in your heart and mind every Sunday morning. Here are three extremely common reasons that come up consistently in my ministry, and three ways you can combat them.

1) It’s one more thing to do in your already-busy schedule.

You’re a busy person. You have work, school, family, friends, maybe even other ministries. Adding another 2 hour commitment (or more if you volunteer) just seems overwhelming.

The solution: Examine your beliefs. Do you really believe that the regular gathering of believers for corporate worship under Godly leadership is part of God’s plan for his people? If the answer is “yes,” it’s time to deeply consider your priorities, and ponder how to say “no” to things that might be important, but are simply a lower priority.

2) The message and music just don’t “speak” to you.

You’re bored. You don’t connect with the weekly sermon. You’re not into the music…it’s too “Jesus-is-my-boyfriend” or too “contemporary” or too “old-people-style hymns.”

The solution: It would be too easy to tell you to find another church. Although your discontent might mean it’s time to move it, more than likely you need a shift in perspective. Are you waiting for your pastor to entertain you, or are you expecting God to speak to you? Do you see corporate singing as a team effort or just “me-and-Jesus-time?”

3) There aren’t enough people in your peer group at your church.

You look around, and you’re surround by people twice your age…or half your age. It feels like a nursing home or youth camp on steriods. There are too many kids! Not enough kids! You can’t take the sea of plaid shirts anymore! You’re done with people that are so. slow. to. change.

The solution:</
strong> Realize it’s not about you. Don’t get me wrong, you need fellowship with Christians in your peer group to be healthy, and your local church may not be able to provide that for you. Yet, that’s not necessarily a reason to jump ship. You might be the person they need to jump start a ministry to your peer group, or you just might bring some much needed balance to your community. Realize your local church will most likely not be able to provide you with the entirety of your spiritual formation…and be okay with that.

Why do you hate going to church?