Calling & the Unity of the Church (Ecumenism)
July 2024
In May 2023, I began my seminary studies at Gordon-Conwell Theological. The path to seminary was winding and full of challenges, but by God’s grace He has brought me to this point and for that I’m exceedingly grateful! My sense of the call to ministry began all the way back in high school; pursuing my Master of Divinity is just the next step as I continue to seek God's will. COVID and challenges faced within my current work environment pushed me into seminary. The encouragement of friends, family, and coworkers along with their prayers and financial support confirmed God's calling for me to enter seminary.
Currently I'm serving at an LCMS Lutheran church which was one of the main reasons I did not begin seminary earlier. Because I love my church and because I align with the LCMS’s major teachings (the inerrancy of Scripture, the importance of the sacraments, the emphasis of the Solas from the Reformation), it seemed like a degree from a denominational seminary would be the best route (especially as those who hold degrees from other seminaries find it very difficult to find a pathway into the pastorate of the LCMS).
The only pathway to pastoral ministry leading to a Master of Divinity (MDiv) degree (i.e. the standard “pastor” degree) in the LCMS is currently through in-person seminary programs. The hybrid learning option - known as the Specific Ministry Pastor - is only a certificate program and limits the scope of where one can serve to his current congregation. I had waited, hoped, and prayed for a hybrid or online MDiv program. Unfortunately, none has been developed or, I was told, will be developed in the near future.
Because of this I applied for and was admitted to Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. Tim Keller, a well-known pastor and author, and someone I deeply admire, graduated from Gordon-Conwell. Reflecting on his time there, it was Gordon-Conwell's ecumenism combined with a strong commitment to Scripture that impressed Keller. To hear his perspective in his own words, check out the YouTube video here: https://youtu.be/q4LHEtljwZA.
I’ve attended and served in churches of various denominational backgrounds and found we have much to learn from each other and much more in common than we often are inclined to admit. Sadly, some denominations are more insular, so caught up in dogma and pure doctrine that they forget the essentials that bind the orthodox Christian church together (I mean orthodox not in the sense of Eastern rite churches but in the sense of holding to the Creeds and essential teachings of Scripture, regarding human sexuality, for example).
My time at Gordon-Conwell has furthered my interdenominational friendships; my professors and classmates come from a wide swath of Protestant Evangelical denominations (and non-denoms). The plurality of orthodox Christian perspectives has richened my experience, not hampered it.
As I continue to wrestle with where God may be calling me to minister next, I’m encouraged by the depth and breadth of His church. Based on current LCMS politics, it is possible, perhaps even likely that God is leading me to another denominational body. While I am disappointed by the institutionalism and inflexibility within the LCMS, I am also grateful for all those within it who have loved me and encouraged me to pursue God’s calling wherever it may lead - even outside of our denomination. God’s church is multicultural; it’s global. It encompasses people of all different theological flavors. Yet, by the blood of Jesus, we are united. We share “one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of us all.” (Eph. 4:5-6) Jesus prayed that the Church would be one as He and the Father are one and that the world would know us by our love. May we daily seek to lives marked by love and the unity we have in Jesus. Wherever God leads next, I know He has good plans for me and for His Church.
Currently I'm serving at an LCMS Lutheran church which was one of the main reasons I did not begin seminary earlier. Because I love my church and because I align with the LCMS’s major teachings (the inerrancy of Scripture, the importance of the sacraments, the emphasis of the Solas from the Reformation), it seemed like a degree from a denominational seminary would be the best route (especially as those who hold degrees from other seminaries find it very difficult to find a pathway into the pastorate of the LCMS).
The only pathway to pastoral ministry leading to a Master of Divinity (MDiv) degree (i.e. the standard “pastor” degree) in the LCMS is currently through in-person seminary programs. The hybrid learning option - known as the Specific Ministry Pastor - is only a certificate program and limits the scope of where one can serve to his current congregation. I had waited, hoped, and prayed for a hybrid or online MDiv program. Unfortunately, none has been developed or, I was told, will be developed in the near future.
Because of this I applied for and was admitted to Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. Tim Keller, a well-known pastor and author, and someone I deeply admire, graduated from Gordon-Conwell. Reflecting on his time there, it was Gordon-Conwell's ecumenism combined with a strong commitment to Scripture that impressed Keller. To hear his perspective in his own words, check out the YouTube video here: https://youtu.be/q4LHEtljwZA.
I’ve attended and served in churches of various denominational backgrounds and found we have much to learn from each other and much more in common than we often are inclined to admit. Sadly, some denominations are more insular, so caught up in dogma and pure doctrine that they forget the essentials that bind the orthodox Christian church together (I mean orthodox not in the sense of Eastern rite churches but in the sense of holding to the Creeds and essential teachings of Scripture, regarding human sexuality, for example).
My time at Gordon-Conwell has furthered my interdenominational friendships; my professors and classmates come from a wide swath of Protestant Evangelical denominations (and non-denoms). The plurality of orthodox Christian perspectives has richened my experience, not hampered it.
As I continue to wrestle with where God may be calling me to minister next, I’m encouraged by the depth and breadth of His church. Based on current LCMS politics, it is possible, perhaps even likely that God is leading me to another denominational body. While I am disappointed by the institutionalism and inflexibility within the LCMS, I am also grateful for all those within it who have loved me and encouraged me to pursue God’s calling wherever it may lead - even outside of our denomination. God’s church is multicultural; it’s global. It encompasses people of all different theological flavors. Yet, by the blood of Jesus, we are united. We share “one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of us all.” (Eph. 4:5-6) Jesus prayed that the Church would be one as He and the Father are one and that the world would know us by our love. May we daily seek to lives marked by love and the unity we have in Jesus. Wherever God leads next, I know He has good plans for me and for His Church.
The Church & the Jewish Question:
The Prophetic Role of the Church in Social Justice (1)
January 2021
In Eric Metaxis’ book Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, I learned much about Bonhoeffer’s life and witness. His historical situation speaks, in many ways, to our current theological and cultural climate. Bonhoeffer attended Berlin University where he studied under theologically liberal professors, many who denied the authority of Scripture. In contrast, Bonhoeffer maintained that the Christian must submit fully to God’s Word; the Word was the unquestionable foundation for his faith, teachings, and life. Likewise, today many question the authority, reliability, and historicity of Scripture.
Culturally speaking, Nazi Germany upheld and implemented ghastly forms of racism against the Jews, Poles, and many other ethnicities. While the United States certainly is far from the atrocities of Nazi Germany, we still are experiencing the painful effects of racial inequality. In looking at issues like housing, economic opportunity, education, policing, and the justice system, it is clear there is a great need for accountability, repentance, and reconciliation (2).
I tread carefully as I write this, knowing my understanding and experience is woefully inadequate to properly express the heartache, pain, and daily challenges faced by the diverse, multi-faceted group that is people of color. I recognize that as a white male I was born into privilege. I was also born into a society that oftentimes perpetuates racism and normalizes white superiority; the task of effectuating meaningful change can be daunting.
And yet, we, the Church, have a mandate from God. In Micah 6:6 the prophet begins by asking, “With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high?” In other words, “What does God want from me? How can I have a good relationship with God?” He continues, “Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, and with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” In these questions, Micah’s offerings become more and more extravagant and personal; pagan idols would gladly ‘accept’ these gifts including one’s firstborn child – it was standard religious practice! But in v. 8 Micah shows us what is truly needed to be in a right relationship with God. “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”
This mandate, the call to love God and love others through our words and actions, is echoed throughout Scripture. In particular, God expresses over and over His heart for those who are downtrodden and overlooked, the loveless and destitute.
As Nazi Germany began ramping up its propaganda, its Aryan Paragraph called for the exclusion of all ethnically Jewish pastors from the German church. Bonhoeffer rightly realized that this order would not only impact the clergy, but all Jews in the Christian churches of Germany; he also recognized the growing animosity towards the Jewish people as a whole – whether they were professing, baptized Christians or not. In response, Bonhoeffer wrote a famous essay entitled “The Church and the Jewish Question.” Within German circles, some Christians sincerely believed they should allow for “separate but equal” churches – some for Germans and some for Jews. Bonhoeffer opposed this idea, remembering the injustices he witnessed while traveling in the segregated American South.
In his essay, Bonhoeffer explained and expounded upon Luther’s perspective of the role of the Church and the state. Bonhoeffer gladly recognized the authority and the importance of the state as the bearer of the sword, to maintain order and justice while seeking the wellbeing of all citizens. He added to Luther’s foundation of the two kingdoms of God by exploring the ways the church is to hold the state accountable for its actions (3).
Bonhoeffer stated that the first way the church interacts with the state is by holding it accountable for doing its stately duties, as mentioned above. The second is “to aid the victims of state action.” Referencing Galatians 6:10, he continued, “The church has an unconditional obligation to the victims of any ordering of society, even if they do not belong to the Christian community.” But Bonhoeffer didn’t stop there. He wrote, “The third possibility is not just to bandage the victims under the wheel, but to jam a spoke in the wheel itself. Such action would be direct political action, and is only possible and desirable when the church sees the state fail in its function of creating law and order...”
Bonhoeffer logically argued that faith, at times, requires direct political action. Indeed, upon recognizing the dire realities of Hitler’s Nazi Germany, he took strong political action by engaging in the conspiracy to assassinate Hitler. To be clear, Bonhoeffer was not advocating for a state-run church or a church-run state. He recognized and valued the unique roles of church and state. He didn’t, however, believe in complete separation of the two.
Bonhoeffer reminded Christians that our engagement in politics should be dictated by the Word of God and our obligation to love and serve our neighbor. We should be actively pursuing the rights and protections of all people.
What does this mean practically? First, we must acknowledge that all political action has moral consequences. God explicitly calls us to do good to all people not only in the New Testament (Gal. 6:10) but also in the Old Testament (Jer. 29:7); therefore our political action should be focused on serving and loving our neighbors, Christians and non-Christians alike. When we look at policy issues, we must take great care to consider all sides of an issue and the people who are directly impacted by those policies.
Second, we see that, at times, failure to mobilize political action is not only sinful, but can lead to disastrous consequences. The church in Germany, on the whole, failed to stand up to Hitler. Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller confessed and lamented his own complicity in this well-known quotation,
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.
It is impossible to say how many lives would have been saved if the German church had uniformly opposed Hitler; it is clear, however, that the cost of its silence - apart from the brave few who spoke out - was staggering. The church failed in its mandate to “to do justice, and to love kindness…” The cost of the church’s inaction was not only measured in human lives lost, but also its witness was tainted. The story of the church under Nazi Germany serves as a cautionary tale for all Christians. May God forgive us all for the good we have left undone and lead us, by His grace, to repentance and renewed love for our neighbors!
Bonhoeffer’s essay reminds Christians of our obligation to love and care for all people. Sometimes that love for others demands political action. Within this biblical framework, we are able to address social issues with integrity, submitting every aspect of our lives – including political action – to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We remember that we are called to honor and respect our government and its leaders even as we recognize that governments run by broken, sinful people will inevitably sin against their citizens. By God’s grace, we will hold our government and one another accountable to love and care for all people, just as our gracious Heavenly Father disciplines us and showers us with His love and mercy.
1 For those who object to the phrase “social justice” and the idea of systematic racism as portrayed in this blog, I encourage you to read and pray through the following article entitled “Social Justice, Critical Race Theory, Marxism, and Biblical Ethics” by Liberty University professor Dr. Kelly Hamren
https://www.christianitytoday.com/edstetzer/2020/june/reflections-from-christian-scholar-on-social-justice-critic.html
2 While there is not time here for a full discussion of the nature of racism, it is important to note that racism is a complex issue. I write using this perspective of racism: anyone who commits racist action, big or small, is guilty of racism; any organization or system that perpetrates racial inequality wittingly or unwittingly is guilty of racism. That does not mean the individual or system is completely bad or evil; this is not about "canceling" anyone or an organization. In her book White Fragility Robin DiAngelo explains racism as a continuum. None of us are totally free from racism or prejudice, but we should seek greater understanding to increasingly avoid racist thoughts, actions, and policies. This, I believe, aligns with the Christian understanding of original sin/total depravity and challenges CRT (critical race theory) in the sense that all people, regardless of race/ethnicity, are guilty of prejudice and racist actions/beliefs.
3 The doctrine of the two kingdoms, simply put, acknowledges God as the ruler of both the secular realm, the state, and over the spiritual realm, the Church; we, as citizens of Heaven and our earthly countries live within both of these kingdoms. Much has been written on the doctrine of the two kingdoms. For a more thorough explanation of this doctrine, please visit http://concordiatheology.org/2012/07/gods-two-sustaining-hands/
Owning Our Past: The LCMS & Racial Injustice
September 2020
It can be a difficult thing to own one’s past. In particular, it’s difficult for us to own our past sins. Oftentimes as Christians, we fall into one of three traps: condemnation, cheap grace, or denial.
We can fall into the trap of condemnation and shame; many of us have lived the cliché “The beatings will continue until morale improves.” We hide from others and from God because we’re ashamed of our past actions. We avoid discussing our past and do everything we can to keep it from surfacing. In the midst of these moments of shame and condemnation, we must recall Scripture verses like Romans 8:1 “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” and James 5:16 “Confess your sins to one another that you may be healed.”
Other times we fall into the trap of cheap grace. Cheap grace views God as the ultimate pushover. “It doesn’t matter what I do – I can get away with anything since I know God will forgive me anyways.” This view is clearly condemned by Paul in Romans 6:1. Cheap grace is a mockery to God; it takes sin lightly and fails to appreciate the seriousness of the cross. When we fall into this trap, we need to turn to God in repentance immediately (as Paul reminds us as he continues in Romans 6).
Finally, we may opt for denial – “I didn’t do it!” or “Sure I did it, but it wasn’t really wrong.” We seek to excuse or minimize our sins, to paint them as anything but sin or at least only little, unimportant sins. Sadly, when we are in denial of our sin or the severity of our sin, we are in no place for sincere repentance. “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” Only when we allow God’s Spirit to lead us to repentance will we be able to own our sin, ask for God’s forgiveness, and repent of our wrongs.
Condemnation with its companion shame, cheap grace, and denial are all equally offensive to God. Condemnation says, “I can’t be forgiven.” Cheap grace says, “Since I’ll be forgiven, I’m gonna sin like there’s no tomorrow!” Denial says, “What sin?” Instead, we must take the fourth path: owning our past. In church talk, we call this confessing our sins. It’s owning the wrong things we have done and right things we have left undone; it’s owning the ways we’ve sinned against God and others in our thoughts, words, and actions. When we do this, “God is faithful and just to forgive, cleansing us from all unrighteousness.” He removes our sins “as far as the East is from the West.” This, friends, is the way of salvation, the life lived in repentance.
Similar to us individually owning our past, we, as a church, must own our past. It is important that we look critically at our past celebrating the good gifts that God has given us in the faith and actions of our spiritual ancestors even as we recognize their sins and seek to make those sins right, as much as possible. In the past as in the present, we must hold our brothers and sisters in Christ accountable. I’m not speaking of literal confrontation with those who are dead but rather honest acknowledgement of their faith and faults. We do great harm to ourselves and our church when we fail to examine and learn from the mistakes of our forefathers.
Friends, it’s time for us, the LCMS, to own our past and particularly admit our participation in racism*; now is the time to repent and to seek a new way forward - a way marked with grace, truth, and love.
I am a child of the LCMS (Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod). I love my church; I’ve attended and led worship in various different church denominations and have found the LCMS’s theology to closely reflect my understanding of Scripture. It is as an insider that I request, no, insist that we do more.
I recognize the heritage of our church; many of us are German-Lutheran. My great, great grandparents immigrated to the U.S. from Germany. I value and appreciate the good things that come with that German heritage – good beer, bratwurst, Luther’s catechisms, & an insistence upon salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. I thank God for these good gifts. But friends in the LCMS, we have failed. We have sinned against God by what we have done and by what we have left undone – particularly when it comes to loving our black and brown brothers and sisters as ourselves.
Despite growing up in and around a city with a population that is about half black, my church experience in the LCMS has been overwhelmingly white. As a young person, I thought little of it. I didn’t know anything different. This is how I was raised. This is how things are – or so I thought.
Flash forward to college. While I attended a primarily white university, my eyes were opened more and more to the wonderful, beautiful diversity of God’s people. I interned at a church in Palo Alto, a place of great ethnic and social diversity. I remember having an evening of conversation surrounding racism and people sharing their own experiences of racism in everyday life. It was a time of honest sharing, listening, and repentance; there I learned many things - and was forced to unlearn some things too.
I also vividly recall discussions surrounding race and diversity at the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship’s annual Worship Symposium. Every year I’ve attended, speakers and musicians have challenged me to recognize the wonder and beauty of the diversity of God’s Kingdom. The Symposium has challenged me to look to the Church of Revelation as the goal for our Church here and now – that we should welcome people from every nation, tribe, and tongue to worship our Triune God (Revelation 7).
It is only recently that I have begun to understand the complex history of the LCMS and racial equality. On the one hand, many within the white German Lutheran body sought to share the Gospel with black Americans - even under threat of death or great pain. And yet, these efforts, like all good works, were often tainted with the sin - particularly in actions and policies that reflected an attitude of racial superiority. Despite decades of successful learning in a racially integrated setting, black students were no longer welcome in the primary institutions of learning in the LCMS for almost 40 years. Instead the LCMS (as a part of the Evangelical Lutheran Synodical Conference) required black students pursuing jobs in church work (as pastors or teachers) to attend the (segregated) Immanuel Lutheran College & Seminary in Greensboro, NC (pictured at the top of this post). Despite living virtually my entire life within the LCMS, I had never heard of Immanuel. I also recently found out that the LCMS’s only remaining Historically Black University, Concordia University Alabama, was closed in 2018. Why had I never heard of either of these institutions? Why had the LCMS's history been obscured from me or, at best, avoided?
While many historically black colleges and universities were created as a result of segregation, they have been and continue to serve as key players in the education and elevation of the historically underserved and marginalized black community. It is vitally important that we support all people, regardless of race, in their educational pursuits – especially when it comes to serving the world and Church, therefore I was disappointed to hear about the closing Concordia Alabama. It especially disappoints me because the ethnic diversity of LCMS churches, as a whole, is lacking. In fact, the LCMS is one of the whitest denominations in the whole of the USA (see PEW report below). As we have now closed all our historically black schools, I wonder, how are we intentionally reaching out to and training men and women of color as they explore vocation in church work? The reality is, we aren’t - at least not very effectively, as is demonstrated in seminary enrollment and the newly rostered workers list.
I laud those who are working to make our LCMS church a more hospitable and welcoming church for all. Yet, sadly, the leadership of the LCMS is overwhelmingly white; by not affording people of color the opportunity to lead (since there are certainly people of color who are just as qualified as those leading), we have marginalized their distinct voices and perspectives. In a letter written on behalf of the Lutheran Black Clergy Caucus (BCC - a group I didn’t even know existed until recently!), Rev. Warren Lattimore, Jr. expounds upon this dilemma:
Can we turn to District or Synod? Do they ‘understand the nature and scope of the crisis [and have a] commitment to try to resolve it?’ That is our genuine hope. Yet there are no Black Lutherans on the Synod Board of Directors. The Seminary Boards of Regents lack Black clergy. To date, there still has been no Synod President or District President who is Black[…] does Black ministry have anywhere to turn for some official who is able to understand and bring hope or comfort?
Friends, my heart is broken for the church I love. Please understand me: I am grateful for the many gifts that the LCMS provides to me and the broader Church. Yet, as Rev. Lattimore points out in his letter, little has changed in terms of diversity in leadership and support for people of color within the LCMS since the race riots of 1967.
This should not be. This cannot be. Rev. Lattimore speaks to the heart of this issue:
Now is the time. As a Christian, if you do not help end a system of injustice that takes the lives of brothers and sisters in Christ like George Floyd but ‘use the excuse that you did not assist their deaths by word or deed,’ then ‘you have killed him.’ ‘For although you have not actually committed all these crimes, as far as you are concerned, you have nevertheless permitted your neighbors to languish and perish in their misfortune. It is just as if I saw someone who was struggling in deep water... and I could stretch out my hand to pull him out and save him, and yet I did not do so. How would I appear before all the world except as a murderer...?’ (LC, V, 189-190).
This is not ‘black radical thought’. This is the Lutheran Catechism from your time in Confirmation, when you affirmed your baptismal vows, marking you as one claimed by God – and not the world.
What does this all mean for you and me? It means we must own our past. We must recognize the LCMS's complex relationship with race - including acknowledging the racist acts that were committed by members of the denomination and by the leadership of the church as a whole. Racist actions were, are, and always will be contrary to the Gospel. It’s not enough to say, “Well, they were products of their time. They didn’t know better.” That smacks of cheap grace. It also is foolish for us to live in shame over their past actions or to try and bury them. What’s done is done and only God, by His Spirit, can change hearts and heal the wounds that we, sinful humans, have inflicted upon one another.
A part of owning our collective past is owning our individual pasts. I ask you (as I ask myself), have you made racist jokes or comments (including about “innocent” topics like athletic ability)? Have you treated another person with disrespect, prejudice, or distrust just because of his or her skin color? Have you passively listened while others have made racist remarks? Have you confronted and held accountable those who speak in racist terms or act with racial bias - including political and community figures? Are you actively pursuing the reformation or replacement of systems that have and continue to perpetuate racism?
The dark river of racism runs deep beneath the surface of many of our hearts – mine included. As a white man, I have often taken my position of privilege for granted. I have participated in racism: when I "other-ize" people of color instead of recognizing them as individuals with unique gifts, culture, and stories; when I’ve (literally) crossed to the other side of the street because I was scared by someone simply because of his race/appearance; when I failed to confront and contradict others when they have made racist comments or jokes; and when I deny the realities of systemic injustice perpetrated against people of color. It is only by God’s grace that I have begun to see my own prejudices and the realities of systemic racism in America. God’s kindness has led me to repentance in this area and toward pursuing racial equity and justice in the Church and the world.
I close with this: Thank you to all the men and women of color who continue to persevere in the faith – especially the Lutheran faith – in spite of the lack of care and hospitality shown to you at this present moment. Thank you for not giving up on God’s ability to change hearts and for persisting in preaching the Gospel. Thank you to all who stand against racism – not only in word, but in deed. Thank you to all those who are now taking the time to stop, recognize, and repent of racist thoughts, words, and actions. As a church, we must repent of our racist actions and policies. It begins with individuals, but it must not end there. May we as a body fight against systems of injustice and move forward with love for neighbor and a greater desire to see God’s beautiful, diverse Kingdom come here on earth.
To read the full letter written on behalf of the Black Clergy Caucus, please click here.
To view the PEW report on racial diversity within denominations, please click here.
To read the CTCR Report concerning racism (as well as Immanuel Lutheran College & Sem), please click here.
To read the Affirmations adopted by the MI-District LCMS concerning racial reconciliation, please click here.
For more information about the LCMS and its racial history, please read: Roses & Thorns by Dr. Richard Dickinsons & The Struggle for Unity: A personal look at the integration of Lutheran churches in the South by Pastor Richard O. Ziehr. More resources are available here.
*When I refer to race in this blog, I am referring to race as defined culturally, as people of different ethnic groups. More specifically, I mean “a socially constructed category of identification based on physical characteristics, ancestry, historical affiliation, or shared culture. (Dictionary.com 2.3.c)” I recognize and affirm that there is truly only one human race – which is all the more reason why we need to love and respect one another.
We can fall into the trap of condemnation and shame; many of us have lived the cliché “The beatings will continue until morale improves.” We hide from others and from God because we’re ashamed of our past actions. We avoid discussing our past and do everything we can to keep it from surfacing. In the midst of these moments of shame and condemnation, we must recall Scripture verses like Romans 8:1 “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” and James 5:16 “Confess your sins to one another that you may be healed.”
Other times we fall into the trap of cheap grace. Cheap grace views God as the ultimate pushover. “It doesn’t matter what I do – I can get away with anything since I know God will forgive me anyways.” This view is clearly condemned by Paul in Romans 6:1. Cheap grace is a mockery to God; it takes sin lightly and fails to appreciate the seriousness of the cross. When we fall into this trap, we need to turn to God in repentance immediately (as Paul reminds us as he continues in Romans 6).
Finally, we may opt for denial – “I didn’t do it!” or “Sure I did it, but it wasn’t really wrong.” We seek to excuse or minimize our sins, to paint them as anything but sin or at least only little, unimportant sins. Sadly, when we are in denial of our sin or the severity of our sin, we are in no place for sincere repentance. “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” Only when we allow God’s Spirit to lead us to repentance will we be able to own our sin, ask for God’s forgiveness, and repent of our wrongs.
Condemnation with its companion shame, cheap grace, and denial are all equally offensive to God. Condemnation says, “I can’t be forgiven.” Cheap grace says, “Since I’ll be forgiven, I’m gonna sin like there’s no tomorrow!” Denial says, “What sin?” Instead, we must take the fourth path: owning our past. In church talk, we call this confessing our sins. It’s owning the wrong things we have done and right things we have left undone; it’s owning the ways we’ve sinned against God and others in our thoughts, words, and actions. When we do this, “God is faithful and just to forgive, cleansing us from all unrighteousness.” He removes our sins “as far as the East is from the West.” This, friends, is the way of salvation, the life lived in repentance.
Similar to us individually owning our past, we, as a church, must own our past. It is important that we look critically at our past celebrating the good gifts that God has given us in the faith and actions of our spiritual ancestors even as we recognize their sins and seek to make those sins right, as much as possible. In the past as in the present, we must hold our brothers and sisters in Christ accountable. I’m not speaking of literal confrontation with those who are dead but rather honest acknowledgement of their faith and faults. We do great harm to ourselves and our church when we fail to examine and learn from the mistakes of our forefathers.
Friends, it’s time for us, the LCMS, to own our past and particularly admit our participation in racism*; now is the time to repent and to seek a new way forward - a way marked with grace, truth, and love.
I am a child of the LCMS (Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod). I love my church; I’ve attended and led worship in various different church denominations and have found the LCMS’s theology to closely reflect my understanding of Scripture. It is as an insider that I request, no, insist that we do more.
I recognize the heritage of our church; many of us are German-Lutheran. My great, great grandparents immigrated to the U.S. from Germany. I value and appreciate the good things that come with that German heritage – good beer, bratwurst, Luther’s catechisms, & an insistence upon salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. I thank God for these good gifts. But friends in the LCMS, we have failed. We have sinned against God by what we have done and by what we have left undone – particularly when it comes to loving our black and brown brothers and sisters as ourselves.
Despite growing up in and around a city with a population that is about half black, my church experience in the LCMS has been overwhelmingly white. As a young person, I thought little of it. I didn’t know anything different. This is how I was raised. This is how things are – or so I thought.
Flash forward to college. While I attended a primarily white university, my eyes were opened more and more to the wonderful, beautiful diversity of God’s people. I interned at a church in Palo Alto, a place of great ethnic and social diversity. I remember having an evening of conversation surrounding racism and people sharing their own experiences of racism in everyday life. It was a time of honest sharing, listening, and repentance; there I learned many things - and was forced to unlearn some things too.
I also vividly recall discussions surrounding race and diversity at the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship’s annual Worship Symposium. Every year I’ve attended, speakers and musicians have challenged me to recognize the wonder and beauty of the diversity of God’s Kingdom. The Symposium has challenged me to look to the Church of Revelation as the goal for our Church here and now – that we should welcome people from every nation, tribe, and tongue to worship our Triune God (Revelation 7).
It is only recently that I have begun to understand the complex history of the LCMS and racial equality. On the one hand, many within the white German Lutheran body sought to share the Gospel with black Americans - even under threat of death or great pain. And yet, these efforts, like all good works, were often tainted with the sin - particularly in actions and policies that reflected an attitude of racial superiority. Despite decades of successful learning in a racially integrated setting, black students were no longer welcome in the primary institutions of learning in the LCMS for almost 40 years. Instead the LCMS (as a part of the Evangelical Lutheran Synodical Conference) required black students pursuing jobs in church work (as pastors or teachers) to attend the (segregated) Immanuel Lutheran College & Seminary in Greensboro, NC (pictured at the top of this post). Despite living virtually my entire life within the LCMS, I had never heard of Immanuel. I also recently found out that the LCMS’s only remaining Historically Black University, Concordia University Alabama, was closed in 2018. Why had I never heard of either of these institutions? Why had the LCMS's history been obscured from me or, at best, avoided?
While many historically black colleges and universities were created as a result of segregation, they have been and continue to serve as key players in the education and elevation of the historically underserved and marginalized black community. It is vitally important that we support all people, regardless of race, in their educational pursuits – especially when it comes to serving the world and Church, therefore I was disappointed to hear about the closing Concordia Alabama. It especially disappoints me because the ethnic diversity of LCMS churches, as a whole, is lacking. In fact, the LCMS is one of the whitest denominations in the whole of the USA (see PEW report below). As we have now closed all our historically black schools, I wonder, how are we intentionally reaching out to and training men and women of color as they explore vocation in church work? The reality is, we aren’t - at least not very effectively, as is demonstrated in seminary enrollment and the newly rostered workers list.
I laud those who are working to make our LCMS church a more hospitable and welcoming church for all. Yet, sadly, the leadership of the LCMS is overwhelmingly white; by not affording people of color the opportunity to lead (since there are certainly people of color who are just as qualified as those leading), we have marginalized their distinct voices and perspectives. In a letter written on behalf of the Lutheran Black Clergy Caucus (BCC - a group I didn’t even know existed until recently!), Rev. Warren Lattimore, Jr. expounds upon this dilemma:
Can we turn to District or Synod? Do they ‘understand the nature and scope of the crisis [and have a] commitment to try to resolve it?’ That is our genuine hope. Yet there are no Black Lutherans on the Synod Board of Directors. The Seminary Boards of Regents lack Black clergy. To date, there still has been no Synod President or District President who is Black[…] does Black ministry have anywhere to turn for some official who is able to understand and bring hope or comfort?
Friends, my heart is broken for the church I love. Please understand me: I am grateful for the many gifts that the LCMS provides to me and the broader Church. Yet, as Rev. Lattimore points out in his letter, little has changed in terms of diversity in leadership and support for people of color within the LCMS since the race riots of 1967.
This should not be. This cannot be. Rev. Lattimore speaks to the heart of this issue:
Now is the time. As a Christian, if you do not help end a system of injustice that takes the lives of brothers and sisters in Christ like George Floyd but ‘use the excuse that you did not assist their deaths by word or deed,’ then ‘you have killed him.’ ‘For although you have not actually committed all these crimes, as far as you are concerned, you have nevertheless permitted your neighbors to languish and perish in their misfortune. It is just as if I saw someone who was struggling in deep water... and I could stretch out my hand to pull him out and save him, and yet I did not do so. How would I appear before all the world except as a murderer...?’ (LC, V, 189-190).
This is not ‘black radical thought’. This is the Lutheran Catechism from your time in Confirmation, when you affirmed your baptismal vows, marking you as one claimed by God – and not the world.
What does this all mean for you and me? It means we must own our past. We must recognize the LCMS's complex relationship with race - including acknowledging the racist acts that were committed by members of the denomination and by the leadership of the church as a whole. Racist actions were, are, and always will be contrary to the Gospel. It’s not enough to say, “Well, they were products of their time. They didn’t know better.” That smacks of cheap grace. It also is foolish for us to live in shame over their past actions or to try and bury them. What’s done is done and only God, by His Spirit, can change hearts and heal the wounds that we, sinful humans, have inflicted upon one another.
A part of owning our collective past is owning our individual pasts. I ask you (as I ask myself), have you made racist jokes or comments (including about “innocent” topics like athletic ability)? Have you treated another person with disrespect, prejudice, or distrust just because of his or her skin color? Have you passively listened while others have made racist remarks? Have you confronted and held accountable those who speak in racist terms or act with racial bias - including political and community figures? Are you actively pursuing the reformation or replacement of systems that have and continue to perpetuate racism?
The dark river of racism runs deep beneath the surface of many of our hearts – mine included. As a white man, I have often taken my position of privilege for granted. I have participated in racism: when I "other-ize" people of color instead of recognizing them as individuals with unique gifts, culture, and stories; when I’ve (literally) crossed to the other side of the street because I was scared by someone simply because of his race/appearance; when I failed to confront and contradict others when they have made racist comments or jokes; and when I deny the realities of systemic injustice perpetrated against people of color. It is only by God’s grace that I have begun to see my own prejudices and the realities of systemic racism in America. God’s kindness has led me to repentance in this area and toward pursuing racial equity and justice in the Church and the world.
I close with this: Thank you to all the men and women of color who continue to persevere in the faith – especially the Lutheran faith – in spite of the lack of care and hospitality shown to you at this present moment. Thank you for not giving up on God’s ability to change hearts and for persisting in preaching the Gospel. Thank you to all who stand against racism – not only in word, but in deed. Thank you to all those who are now taking the time to stop, recognize, and repent of racist thoughts, words, and actions. As a church, we must repent of our racist actions and policies. It begins with individuals, but it must not end there. May we as a body fight against systems of injustice and move forward with love for neighbor and a greater desire to see God’s beautiful, diverse Kingdom come here on earth.
To read the full letter written on behalf of the Black Clergy Caucus, please click here.
To view the PEW report on racial diversity within denominations, please click here.
To read the CTCR Report concerning racism (as well as Immanuel Lutheran College & Sem), please click here.
To read the Affirmations adopted by the MI-District LCMS concerning racial reconciliation, please click here.
For more information about the LCMS and its racial history, please read: Roses & Thorns by Dr. Richard Dickinsons & The Struggle for Unity: A personal look at the integration of Lutheran churches in the South by Pastor Richard O. Ziehr. More resources are available here.
*When I refer to race in this blog, I am referring to race as defined culturally, as people of different ethnic groups. More specifically, I mean “a socially constructed category of identification based on physical characteristics, ancestry, historical affiliation, or shared culture. (Dictionary.com 2.3.c)” I recognize and affirm that there is truly only one human race – which is all the more reason why we need to love and respect one another.
June 2020
Springtime
During this season of the Coronavirus, there are so many questions and uncertainties. We’re all constantly adjusting to the “new normal,” whatever that may look like. In Michigan in particular, we still have a lot of questions – especially as the stay at home order remains in effect and, at the time of me writing this, little has re-opened (at least in our area).
I’ve had the privilege of working alongside my church leadership to proclaim the message of hope and peace that Christ provides us during times of uncertainty. But in the midst of all of this, I also had the opportunity to minister to a family member who is currently very isolated. I’m sure she’s lonely. I know she struggles to communicate with family and others due to illness and her current circumstances.
I wrote this poem as an encouragement to her that beauty still abounds in this broken world; that God is still sovereign (and working all things for good!); and that this season too, will pass. Our hope is not in the steady rising and setting of the sun (for that too will someday end). Our hope is in the arriving of The Son of God, our Savior and Redeemer. I pray this poem encourages you and reminds you of the sure hope we have in Christ.
Springtime
The dark gray wisps now stain the sunless void;
The droplets clear and cold and crisp do bathe
the hardened earth; it cries aloud it’s joy
to feel the steady force that changes grave
and lifeless limbs to budding scepters of green
and plum; it quickens buried pearls that soon
Will burst apart and tendrils small and sleek
Will slowly slither upwards hoping sun
will follow rain and rain will follow sun
And wet and warm the seeds, once sown, will grow
Towards sky and wisps of white and gray. Begun
is spring! New life it brings! For here and now
The storm that seems so great and gray and grave
Will soon abate, the Son arrive; happy day!
I’ve had the privilege of working alongside my church leadership to proclaim the message of hope and peace that Christ provides us during times of uncertainty. But in the midst of all of this, I also had the opportunity to minister to a family member who is currently very isolated. I’m sure she’s lonely. I know she struggles to communicate with family and others due to illness and her current circumstances.
I wrote this poem as an encouragement to her that beauty still abounds in this broken world; that God is still sovereign (and working all things for good!); and that this season too, will pass. Our hope is not in the steady rising and setting of the sun (for that too will someday end). Our hope is in the arriving of The Son of God, our Savior and Redeemer. I pray this poem encourages you and reminds you of the sure hope we have in Christ.
Springtime
The dark gray wisps now stain the sunless void;
The droplets clear and cold and crisp do bathe
the hardened earth; it cries aloud it’s joy
to feel the steady force that changes grave
and lifeless limbs to budding scepters of green
and plum; it quickens buried pearls that soon
Will burst apart and tendrils small and sleek
Will slowly slither upwards hoping sun
will follow rain and rain will follow sun
And wet and warm the seeds, once sown, will grow
Towards sky and wisps of white and gray. Begun
is spring! New life it brings! For here and now
The storm that seems so great and gray and grave
Will soon abate, the Son arrive; happy day!
February 2019
Repentance: Re-turn to the Lord
Hebrews 4:16
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
With the season of Lent fast approaching, now is a good time for a refresher on repentance. Repentance is something Christians often talk about, but is difficult to do. To repent, simply put, means to do a 180, to completely reverse direction. If I’m driving down the road to destruction (sin), I can turn around and head back God’s way. I turn away from evil and re-turn to doing good. We see a great example of repentance in Luke 19.
Luke 19 tells the story of a Jewish tax collector named Zacchaeus. Not only is he a cheating, stealing tax collector for Rome, but he is the chief tax collector. This guy is the worst of the worst. He is curious about Jesus. He has surely heard rumors of this great teacher and the miracles he has performed, so Zacchaeus is anxious to see Jesus. I would even take it a step further than anxious. Zacchaeus was desperate to see Jesus. So desperate, in fact, that Zacchaeus, being a short man, climbed up into a tree so that he could catch a glimpse of Jesus as he walked by.
Why would Zacchaeus want to see Jesus that badly? Who did he think Jesus was? Why would a filthy, rotten cheat like Zacchaeus want to connect with someone known for his purity and righteousness? While the Bible doesn’t explicitly say why Zacchaeus desired to see Jesus, we can take a good guess based upon the rest of the Gospels.
Over and over Jesus is seen eating with tax collectors (read “scum-of-the earth”) and “sinners”. He associates with and cares for adulterous women. He already has a tax collector in his core group of twelve disciples (Matthew). Zacchaeus must have heard about at least some of this.
We still don’t know Zacchaeus’s heart when he decides to climb the tree, but you can bet God’s Spirit is already working. Instead of just walking past Zacchaeus or condemning Zacchaeus for all the wrong he’d done, Jesus looks right at Zacchaeus and calls him to come down so that He can visit with Zacchaeus that very day.
This personal visit from Jesus - the Lord who knows him by name without introduction - must have startled Zacchaeus. Yet it says Zacchaeus “hurried and came down and received [Jesus] joyfully.” (Lk 19:6) As Zacchaeus hears Jesus’s teaching and encounters Jesus’s love, Zacchaeus experiences heart change. He repents of his sin – he turns away from it. This is made crystal clear when he proclaims, “Behold lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” (Lk 19:8).
Considering the disrepute of tax collectors in ancient Israel and the amount of grumbling of the rest of the Jews on account of Jesus’s love for Zacchaeus, there’s no doubt Zacchaeus had defrauded many people. Zacchaeus’s bold action indicates a sincere change of heart. For so long Zacchaeus worshipped money and his possessions. Now, with Jesus present, Zacchaeus recognizes that true wealth is found not in the abundance of his wealth but in the grace of God’s son, Jesus. He gladly financially bankrupts himself because he has already received the treasure of God’s grace.
We see from this story that God is the initiator of repentance. On our own, we can do nothing. The Bible reminds us that our hearts are wicked and deceitful (Jer. 17:9). Without God’s help through His Holy Spirit, we are unable to re-turn to Him. The Spirit of God points us to the love of God shown to us in Jesus. Romans speaks of God’s kindness as the motivator, as the captivating factor that draws us to repentance (Rom. 2:4). While we rightly deserve death and condemnation for our many and awful sins, God reveals His fatherly heart by drawing us back to Himself with His kindness! God’s kindness melts our hearts and causes us to return to God so we can again be in right relationship with Him.
We also see the fruit of Zacchaeus’s repentance. Repentance is a matter of the heart, but it demonstrates itself in our attitudes and actions. When we’ve experienced the treasures of the love and grace of God, we can’t help but live radically for God!
All that said, repentance is still extremely difficult. It requires humility to admit our sins to God – and ourselves. More than just a one-time action, repentance is a lifestyle. Martin Luther in his famous 95 Theses asserts, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
Perhaps repentance is hardest because it requires us coming face to face with our sins and the holiness of God. The time when we most need God, the time when we most need to repent is when we’re living in sin. Yet, it is during this time that we loath the idea of repentance. Guilt, fear, shame, and arrogance cling to us like tar and feathers, condemning us to ridicule and desertion. In that moment, our approaching God will feel like treason. How could I, a poor, miserable sinner approach a perfect and jealous God? Yet, in the midst of our mess, God’s Spirit is there prompting us to re-turn to Jesus. Like a good father, God gently reminds us that He is there waiting for us to come home.
Hebrews 4:16 (see above) reminds us that we can boldly approach God in repentance because Jesus died to remove all of our sins. He has already made us perfect in the eyes of God the Father. Now, brothers and sisters, I leave you with the words of Joel 2:13 “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love…”
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
With the season of Lent fast approaching, now is a good time for a refresher on repentance. Repentance is something Christians often talk about, but is difficult to do. To repent, simply put, means to do a 180, to completely reverse direction. If I’m driving down the road to destruction (sin), I can turn around and head back God’s way. I turn away from evil and re-turn to doing good. We see a great example of repentance in Luke 19.
Luke 19 tells the story of a Jewish tax collector named Zacchaeus. Not only is he a cheating, stealing tax collector for Rome, but he is the chief tax collector. This guy is the worst of the worst. He is curious about Jesus. He has surely heard rumors of this great teacher and the miracles he has performed, so Zacchaeus is anxious to see Jesus. I would even take it a step further than anxious. Zacchaeus was desperate to see Jesus. So desperate, in fact, that Zacchaeus, being a short man, climbed up into a tree so that he could catch a glimpse of Jesus as he walked by.
Why would Zacchaeus want to see Jesus that badly? Who did he think Jesus was? Why would a filthy, rotten cheat like Zacchaeus want to connect with someone known for his purity and righteousness? While the Bible doesn’t explicitly say why Zacchaeus desired to see Jesus, we can take a good guess based upon the rest of the Gospels.
Over and over Jesus is seen eating with tax collectors (read “scum-of-the earth”) and “sinners”. He associates with and cares for adulterous women. He already has a tax collector in his core group of twelve disciples (Matthew). Zacchaeus must have heard about at least some of this.
We still don’t know Zacchaeus’s heart when he decides to climb the tree, but you can bet God’s Spirit is already working. Instead of just walking past Zacchaeus or condemning Zacchaeus for all the wrong he’d done, Jesus looks right at Zacchaeus and calls him to come down so that He can visit with Zacchaeus that very day.
This personal visit from Jesus - the Lord who knows him by name without introduction - must have startled Zacchaeus. Yet it says Zacchaeus “hurried and came down and received [Jesus] joyfully.” (Lk 19:6) As Zacchaeus hears Jesus’s teaching and encounters Jesus’s love, Zacchaeus experiences heart change. He repents of his sin – he turns away from it. This is made crystal clear when he proclaims, “Behold lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” (Lk 19:8).
Considering the disrepute of tax collectors in ancient Israel and the amount of grumbling of the rest of the Jews on account of Jesus’s love for Zacchaeus, there’s no doubt Zacchaeus had defrauded many people. Zacchaeus’s bold action indicates a sincere change of heart. For so long Zacchaeus worshipped money and his possessions. Now, with Jesus present, Zacchaeus recognizes that true wealth is found not in the abundance of his wealth but in the grace of God’s son, Jesus. He gladly financially bankrupts himself because he has already received the treasure of God’s grace.
We see from this story that God is the initiator of repentance. On our own, we can do nothing. The Bible reminds us that our hearts are wicked and deceitful (Jer. 17:9). Without God’s help through His Holy Spirit, we are unable to re-turn to Him. The Spirit of God points us to the love of God shown to us in Jesus. Romans speaks of God’s kindness as the motivator, as the captivating factor that draws us to repentance (Rom. 2:4). While we rightly deserve death and condemnation for our many and awful sins, God reveals His fatherly heart by drawing us back to Himself with His kindness! God’s kindness melts our hearts and causes us to return to God so we can again be in right relationship with Him.
We also see the fruit of Zacchaeus’s repentance. Repentance is a matter of the heart, but it demonstrates itself in our attitudes and actions. When we’ve experienced the treasures of the love and grace of God, we can’t help but live radically for God!
All that said, repentance is still extremely difficult. It requires humility to admit our sins to God – and ourselves. More than just a one-time action, repentance is a lifestyle. Martin Luther in his famous 95 Theses asserts, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
Perhaps repentance is hardest because it requires us coming face to face with our sins and the holiness of God. The time when we most need God, the time when we most need to repent is when we’re living in sin. Yet, it is during this time that we loath the idea of repentance. Guilt, fear, shame, and arrogance cling to us like tar and feathers, condemning us to ridicule and desertion. In that moment, our approaching God will feel like treason. How could I, a poor, miserable sinner approach a perfect and jealous God? Yet, in the midst of our mess, God’s Spirit is there prompting us to re-turn to Jesus. Like a good father, God gently reminds us that He is there waiting for us to come home.
Hebrews 4:16 (see above) reminds us that we can boldly approach God in repentance because Jesus died to remove all of our sins. He has already made us perfect in the eyes of God the Father. Now, brothers and sisters, I leave you with the words of Joel 2:13 “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love…”
February 2018
Only the Sick Need a Physician
Photo by Hush Naidoo on Unsplash
Matthew 9:11-13
And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
“We don’t need you Jesus; we’re well and we’re good…” from Only the Sick Need a Physician by Caroline Cobb
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I like to think I have everything under control. I’m a “good” person, perhaps even a “good” Christian. I’m nice to most people, most of the time. I believe in Jesus. I go to church every week. I can sing along to hymns and contemporary Christian music. I’ve avoided most of the sins reserved for “the worst of sinners.”
For some of you, you may not be Christians. You, like me, may think you’re a pretty good person. After all, you’ve done a lot of good stuff. You give to charity. You’re nice to your co-workers and neighbors. Things at home are OK. Or maybe you don’t think you’re that great of a person. You’ve seen too much, done too much to believe that.
If someone asked me how I am, I’d probably say something like “I’m fine” or the ever-popular phrase, “I’m all good.” I bet most of you would too. Because if you and I say we’re good, we don’t have to admit our brokenness. We can hide for just a bit longer. Maybe she won’t see how I’m truly feeling… Maybe he won’t see the shame in my eyes. Maybe they won’t ask about things at work, home, school, etc… But we can only hide so long before reality comes crashing through.
If you could see into the depths of my heart, you’d quickly see that not all is well and good with me. Here’s the truth: I’m broken. I’m sick. I’m hurting. I don’t have everything under control – far from it! I am cut by harsh words of both those who love and despise me. I wrestle daily, hourly – virtually every second - with my sinful desires. I fear the opinions of others more than I trust God’s Words. I frequently doubt God’s power to save me from my current situation.
The Pharisees in Jesus day were self-righteous. These teachers of the law thought they had everything figured out. Concerning the Law, they felt they had every “t” crossed and every “i” dotted. They articulated in their words and actions, “We don’t need you Jesus; we’re well and we’re good…” Jesus criticized them sharply calling them whitewashed tombs. On the outside, they looked good. They had the appearance of doing the right things and being the right kind of people. But on the inside, they were just as broken as the prostitutes and tax collectors they condemned. The Pharisees were deathly sick – sin sick. They thought that God would be fooled by them putting on a good show. But Jesus wasn’t fooled. He reminded them often, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” Jesus doesn’t want us to go through the motions of doing the right things. He wants hearts that truly love Him and His ways.
“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick… For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” Jesus gives an open invitation: if you’re sick, you’re welcome here. If you’re a sinner, please come with me. I want to be your friend and helper, your healer. For those of you who are well, for those of you without sin, for those of you who’ve never screwed up or been hurt, you don’t need me.
Of course, there is no one who’s “all good.” We, like the Pharisees, prostitutes and tax collectors, are broken. We all are sin-sick. And we like the Pharisees, prostitutes, and tax collectors have a choice. We can choose to be like the sick man who refuses to go see the doctor because of stubbornness or pride. Or we can be honest. We can admit our need for the Great Physician.
I pray that we would be an honest people, a people who constantly rely on Christ. A friend of mine accused me of using my faith in Jesus as a crutch. I responded that Christ is far more than a crutch to me – He is my life-support. Only when we place ourselves entirely in the Good Physician’s care will we find rest, hope, and forgiveness. So come one and come all, just as you are to the Good Physician, Jesus Christ, and be healed.
“Come, scarlet letters, you outcasts and debtors, I will call you my friend. I'll sit at your table, you broken and fatal. Only the sick need a physician.” from Only the Sick Need a Physician by Caroline Cobb
To listen to Only the Sick Need a Physician click the link below:
And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
“We don’t need you Jesus; we’re well and we’re good…” from Only the Sick Need a Physician by Caroline Cobb
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I like to think I have everything under control. I’m a “good” person, perhaps even a “good” Christian. I’m nice to most people, most of the time. I believe in Jesus. I go to church every week. I can sing along to hymns and contemporary Christian music. I’ve avoided most of the sins reserved for “the worst of sinners.”
For some of you, you may not be Christians. You, like me, may think you’re a pretty good person. After all, you’ve done a lot of good stuff. You give to charity. You’re nice to your co-workers and neighbors. Things at home are OK. Or maybe you don’t think you’re that great of a person. You’ve seen too much, done too much to believe that.
If someone asked me how I am, I’d probably say something like “I’m fine” or the ever-popular phrase, “I’m all good.” I bet most of you would too. Because if you and I say we’re good, we don’t have to admit our brokenness. We can hide for just a bit longer. Maybe she won’t see how I’m truly feeling… Maybe he won’t see the shame in my eyes. Maybe they won’t ask about things at work, home, school, etc… But we can only hide so long before reality comes crashing through.
If you could see into the depths of my heart, you’d quickly see that not all is well and good with me. Here’s the truth: I’m broken. I’m sick. I’m hurting. I don’t have everything under control – far from it! I am cut by harsh words of both those who love and despise me. I wrestle daily, hourly – virtually every second - with my sinful desires. I fear the opinions of others more than I trust God’s Words. I frequently doubt God’s power to save me from my current situation.
The Pharisees in Jesus day were self-righteous. These teachers of the law thought they had everything figured out. Concerning the Law, they felt they had every “t” crossed and every “i” dotted. They articulated in their words and actions, “We don’t need you Jesus; we’re well and we’re good…” Jesus criticized them sharply calling them whitewashed tombs. On the outside, they looked good. They had the appearance of doing the right things and being the right kind of people. But on the inside, they were just as broken as the prostitutes and tax collectors they condemned. The Pharisees were deathly sick – sin sick. They thought that God would be fooled by them putting on a good show. But Jesus wasn’t fooled. He reminded them often, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” Jesus doesn’t want us to go through the motions of doing the right things. He wants hearts that truly love Him and His ways.
“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick… For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” Jesus gives an open invitation: if you’re sick, you’re welcome here. If you’re a sinner, please come with me. I want to be your friend and helper, your healer. For those of you who are well, for those of you without sin, for those of you who’ve never screwed up or been hurt, you don’t need me.
Of course, there is no one who’s “all good.” We, like the Pharisees, prostitutes and tax collectors, are broken. We all are sin-sick. And we like the Pharisees, prostitutes, and tax collectors have a choice. We can choose to be like the sick man who refuses to go see the doctor because of stubbornness or pride. Or we can be honest. We can admit our need for the Great Physician.
I pray that we would be an honest people, a people who constantly rely on Christ. A friend of mine accused me of using my faith in Jesus as a crutch. I responded that Christ is far more than a crutch to me – He is my life-support. Only when we place ourselves entirely in the Good Physician’s care will we find rest, hope, and forgiveness. So come one and come all, just as you are to the Good Physician, Jesus Christ, and be healed.
“Come, scarlet letters, you outcasts and debtors, I will call you my friend. I'll sit at your table, you broken and fatal. Only the sick need a physician.” from Only the Sick Need a Physician by Caroline Cobb
To listen to Only the Sick Need a Physician click the link below:
March 2017
Yet I Will Rejoice in the Lord
“O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?” Habakkuk 1:2
I’ve been asking myself many questions since I first began exploring the topic of lament; I now realize that I haven’t fully understood or appreciated the importance of pain and doubt in the growth of my faith. In light of the upcoming season of Lent in which we recall Christ’s suffering, I invite you to join me in considering these questions: What does your prayer life look like? Is it marked by nice words and Christian clichés? Do your prayers sound rich and biblical to others but lackluster and hollow to you? When you converse with God, do you share everything with Him or do you hide your feelings from God? Do you feel like you need to be polite when you talk with God as if He’s your boss or supervisor? When’s the last time you prayed to God like Habakkuk?
Ever since the first time I read through the book of Habakkuk years ago, I was captivated by the story it told. Habakkuk prophesied concerning the coming judgment and destruction of Judah by Babylon. While God’s people had known and seen His hand at work throughout history, they once again rejected God and turned to serving idols.
In Habakkuk, we see a series of questions and answers: Habakkuk questions God, and then God answers. In chapter 1, we see that Habakkuk is in deep lament. He begins by asking the question, “Why God, do you tolerate the wickedness of Judah?” Habakkuk looks all around him and sees violence and injustice everywhere. Habakkuk longs for justice, but he feels that God is absent from the situation, that God is doing nothing to fix things. Habakkuk appeals to God as the perfect judge. God’s response is surprising and even more terrifying: God says that He will punish Judah by sending the Babylonians to destroy the nation of Judah. God himself describes the Babylonians as “dreaded and fearsome” (1:7) with horses “swifter than leopards, more fierce than the evening wolves.” (1:8)
At this point, Habakkuk is visibly shaken. While he was deeply upset by the injustices in his own country, God’s promise to destroy wicked Judah with wickeder Babylon seems horribly wrong. Again, Habakkuk turns to God and cries out “Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?” (1:13) He then goes on to remind God of how idolatrous the Babylonians are. In all his prayers Habakkuk doesn’t hide his fear, his hurt, or his feelings of despair from God. Like the writers of the psalms, he isn’t afraid to bring his doubts and questions to God. Habakkuk is overwhelmed by sorrow and grief, but he deals with it in a healthy way.
In his book, “The Emotionally Healthy Church,” Peter Scazzero talks about how we deal with pain, grief, and their natural consequence, doubt. Scazzero suggests that we often respond to these feelings in one of three ways: we flee, fight, or hide. In each of these responses, we look for a solution to our problem outside of God. While these are de facto responses for humans living according to the flesh (i.e. non-Christians), as Christians we are called to a different response – to persevere in our faith in the midst of injustice, deep pain, doubt, and sorrow.
If you continue to read through the rest of chapter 2 and 3 of Habakkuk, you will find that God answers Habakkuk’s second question (“Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?”) in an unusual way. God tells him that Babylon too will be judged – someday. Habakkuk wants God to change His mind; he wants God to punish Judah, just not through the Babylonian invasion. Instead of getting what he wants, Habakkuk receives an overwhelming revelation of God’s power to save. Habakkuk speaks of his vision of God saying, “You marched through the earth in fury; you threshed the nations in anger. You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed.” (3:12-13a) Like Habakkuk, we don’t always get the answers we’d like from God. We want justice, hope, peace, and prosperity now! But God’s way is not our way.
Scazzero puts this scriptural reality simply: “God releases the curse [of sin] in order to drive us to our knees and to seek him, to recognize our need for a Savior.” Hard as it is, we must persevere in our faith trusting that God is in control and has our best interests at heart. It is then and only then that we can say with Habakkuk, “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” - Habakkuk 3:17-1
I’ve been asking myself many questions since I first began exploring the topic of lament; I now realize that I haven’t fully understood or appreciated the importance of pain and doubt in the growth of my faith. In light of the upcoming season of Lent in which we recall Christ’s suffering, I invite you to join me in considering these questions: What does your prayer life look like? Is it marked by nice words and Christian clichés? Do your prayers sound rich and biblical to others but lackluster and hollow to you? When you converse with God, do you share everything with Him or do you hide your feelings from God? Do you feel like you need to be polite when you talk with God as if He’s your boss or supervisor? When’s the last time you prayed to God like Habakkuk?
Ever since the first time I read through the book of Habakkuk years ago, I was captivated by the story it told. Habakkuk prophesied concerning the coming judgment and destruction of Judah by Babylon. While God’s people had known and seen His hand at work throughout history, they once again rejected God and turned to serving idols.
In Habakkuk, we see a series of questions and answers: Habakkuk questions God, and then God answers. In chapter 1, we see that Habakkuk is in deep lament. He begins by asking the question, “Why God, do you tolerate the wickedness of Judah?” Habakkuk looks all around him and sees violence and injustice everywhere. Habakkuk longs for justice, but he feels that God is absent from the situation, that God is doing nothing to fix things. Habakkuk appeals to God as the perfect judge. God’s response is surprising and even more terrifying: God says that He will punish Judah by sending the Babylonians to destroy the nation of Judah. God himself describes the Babylonians as “dreaded and fearsome” (1:7) with horses “swifter than leopards, more fierce than the evening wolves.” (1:8)
At this point, Habakkuk is visibly shaken. While he was deeply upset by the injustices in his own country, God’s promise to destroy wicked Judah with wickeder Babylon seems horribly wrong. Again, Habakkuk turns to God and cries out “Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?” (1:13) He then goes on to remind God of how idolatrous the Babylonians are. In all his prayers Habakkuk doesn’t hide his fear, his hurt, or his feelings of despair from God. Like the writers of the psalms, he isn’t afraid to bring his doubts and questions to God. Habakkuk is overwhelmed by sorrow and grief, but he deals with it in a healthy way.
In his book, “The Emotionally Healthy Church,” Peter Scazzero talks about how we deal with pain, grief, and their natural consequence, doubt. Scazzero suggests that we often respond to these feelings in one of three ways: we flee, fight, or hide. In each of these responses, we look for a solution to our problem outside of God. While these are de facto responses for humans living according to the flesh (i.e. non-Christians), as Christians we are called to a different response – to persevere in our faith in the midst of injustice, deep pain, doubt, and sorrow.
If you continue to read through the rest of chapter 2 and 3 of Habakkuk, you will find that God answers Habakkuk’s second question (“Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?”) in an unusual way. God tells him that Babylon too will be judged – someday. Habakkuk wants God to change His mind; he wants God to punish Judah, just not through the Babylonian invasion. Instead of getting what he wants, Habakkuk receives an overwhelming revelation of God’s power to save. Habakkuk speaks of his vision of God saying, “You marched through the earth in fury; you threshed the nations in anger. You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed.” (3:12-13a) Like Habakkuk, we don’t always get the answers we’d like from God. We want justice, hope, peace, and prosperity now! But God’s way is not our way.
Scazzero puts this scriptural reality simply: “God releases the curse [of sin] in order to drive us to our knees and to seek him, to recognize our need for a Savior.” Hard as it is, we must persevere in our faith trusting that God is in control and has our best interests at heart. It is then and only then that we can say with Habakkuk, “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” - Habakkuk 3:17-1
January 2017
Sacrifice as Worship
This time of year, we are quick to make New Year’s resolutions. We love the idea of improving ourselves, of having a better year ahead. We, like John Lennon, “…hope it’s a good one without any fear.” But for many of us, the New Year doesn’t look particularly bright. Christmas has come and gone but our situations remain the same. We are discouraged by the current economic and political environment. We increasingly see the spreading horrors of war and natural disaster. We are distraught over families and marriages dealing with prodigal children, discontent, and divorce. We are devastated by the effects of diseases like cancer and Alzheimer’s that slowly but surely steal away the life and joy of those we love. We acutely feel the despair of those addictive sins that we just can’t seem to break free from.
Jesus came to us on Christmas Day, but His return to renew and heal the world can’t come soon enough. But what are we to do in the mean time? Do we despair of life and just hunker down waiting for Christ’s return like those in a bomb shelter wait for the shelling to end? Moreover, how do we worship a God who we believe is good and holy while living in a world marked by crises, incredible emotional and physical pain, and devastating insidious sin?
I recently read Genesis 22 during my devotional time. This familiar passage recounts the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of his son, Isaac. Before we dive into the story, I invite you to look at Abraham’s backstory. In Genesis 15:5, God made a covenant with Abraham. God tells Abraham, "Look up at the sky and count the stars--if indeed you can count them. So shall your offspring be." God again appears to Abraham and Sarah in Genesis 18. God promises them a child – and Sarah, old and barren, responds by laughing at God (v. 12)! Despite her disbelief, God is faithful to His promise, and Sarah gives birth to Isaac which means “he laughs.”
God has turned the sorrow of their barrenness into the joy of raising a wonderful, beautiful child. Isaac is more than just an answered prayer, he is the promised son, the one through whom the whole world will be blessed. Isaac’s children will become great nations, and one of his descendants will be the Savior of the world! Which brings us back to Genesis 22. God tests Abraham’s faith – go and sacrifice your son to me. I can only imagine Abraham’s initial reaction; “God, You promised me that Isaac would be the father of nations, kings, and of the Savior of the world! You worked miracles just to bring him into this world. Why would you kill my only child, the one that I love with all my heart? Why God?” And while I’m sure Abraham struggled with many if not all these questions, he gets up early the next morning and begins his journey to Moriah taking with him his son and wood for the sacrificial altar.
Three days later Abraham turns to his servants and says, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.” (v. 5) In this passage, we see that sacrifice is worship. Worship is not based upon our life circumstances or our limited perspective on reality. True worship flows from the deep belief that God is good and sovereign in every circumstance. As Abraham raises the knife to kill his one and only son, he still believes that a loving God is in control. Hebrews tells us that Abraham believed that God would resurrect Isaac from the dead (11:19). Just before Abraham plunges the knife into his son, God shows up and provides a ram, a sacrificial substitute for Isaac.
All of Genesis 22 points to the work of Isaac’s perfect offspring, Jesus Christ. We deserved death and condemnation, but God in His mercy sent Jesus Christ to be sacrificed in our place. God stepped into the brokenness of this world and began the work of making all things right. As Advent draws to a close and the New Year begins, don’t forget that God has not left us alone quivering in the wreckage of our broken lives. He has stepped down from Heaven; He is Emmanuel – God with us! And just as Christ came at just the right time to save us from our sin, He will soon return to completely renew and restore all things. Until then, we worship our God, trusting that He is good and sovereign over all. We give our lives as living sacrifices for the worship of our King.
Jesus came to us on Christmas Day, but His return to renew and heal the world can’t come soon enough. But what are we to do in the mean time? Do we despair of life and just hunker down waiting for Christ’s return like those in a bomb shelter wait for the shelling to end? Moreover, how do we worship a God who we believe is good and holy while living in a world marked by crises, incredible emotional and physical pain, and devastating insidious sin?
I recently read Genesis 22 during my devotional time. This familiar passage recounts the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of his son, Isaac. Before we dive into the story, I invite you to look at Abraham’s backstory. In Genesis 15:5, God made a covenant with Abraham. God tells Abraham, "Look up at the sky and count the stars--if indeed you can count them. So shall your offspring be." God again appears to Abraham and Sarah in Genesis 18. God promises them a child – and Sarah, old and barren, responds by laughing at God (v. 12)! Despite her disbelief, God is faithful to His promise, and Sarah gives birth to Isaac which means “he laughs.”
God has turned the sorrow of their barrenness into the joy of raising a wonderful, beautiful child. Isaac is more than just an answered prayer, he is the promised son, the one through whom the whole world will be blessed. Isaac’s children will become great nations, and one of his descendants will be the Savior of the world! Which brings us back to Genesis 22. God tests Abraham’s faith – go and sacrifice your son to me. I can only imagine Abraham’s initial reaction; “God, You promised me that Isaac would be the father of nations, kings, and of the Savior of the world! You worked miracles just to bring him into this world. Why would you kill my only child, the one that I love with all my heart? Why God?” And while I’m sure Abraham struggled with many if not all these questions, he gets up early the next morning and begins his journey to Moriah taking with him his son and wood for the sacrificial altar.
Three days later Abraham turns to his servants and says, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.” (v. 5) In this passage, we see that sacrifice is worship. Worship is not based upon our life circumstances or our limited perspective on reality. True worship flows from the deep belief that God is good and sovereign in every circumstance. As Abraham raises the knife to kill his one and only son, he still believes that a loving God is in control. Hebrews tells us that Abraham believed that God would resurrect Isaac from the dead (11:19). Just before Abraham plunges the knife into his son, God shows up and provides a ram, a sacrificial substitute for Isaac.
All of Genesis 22 points to the work of Isaac’s perfect offspring, Jesus Christ. We deserved death and condemnation, but God in His mercy sent Jesus Christ to be sacrificed in our place. God stepped into the brokenness of this world and began the work of making all things right. As Advent draws to a close and the New Year begins, don’t forget that God has not left us alone quivering in the wreckage of our broken lives. He has stepped down from Heaven; He is Emmanuel – God with us! And just as Christ came at just the right time to save us from our sin, He will soon return to completely renew and restore all things. Until then, we worship our God, trusting that He is good and sovereign over all. We give our lives as living sacrifices for the worship of our King.
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March 2016
Dust I Am. To dust I will return.Lent is a time of repentance, a time for us to prepare our hearts for Easter. During Lent, many people give things up to remind themselves of the ultimate sacrifice that Christ made when He offered up His life for our salvation. Though Cedarville University doesn’t observe Lent because of its Baptist affiliation, I still try to follow the church year and attend mid-week Lenten services.
Ash Wednesday of 2016 turned out to be snowy and blustery in Cedarville, so I decided to attend the small Presbyterian church in town. Because of the inclement weather, very few people were in attendance. I was greeted by several parishioners and by the pastor. He was quite a character. He engaged me in conversation instantly and at my request shared a bit about how God had called him to the ministry. He was, like the church, rather quaint. |
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I don’t recall all of the service details; I know we began by singing a hymn about the atonement, but I can’t say that I remember much of the liturgy or of the pastor’s message. But I do recall what happened afterward: the imposition of ashes.
I have often participated in the imposition of ashes at the Lutheran church I attend back home, but never had I truly grasped the gravity of that symbolic act of worship. It is truly a sobering experience to stand in line with men and women of diverse ages and backgrounds and hear the pastor proclaim to each and every one of them, “Dust you are. To dust you will return.” And then it was my turn.
After the service, the congregants were asked to leave in silence. I took some time to pray, and then I drove home feeling overwhelmed by my frailty. When we realize our sinfulness and finiteness in light of God’s holiness and eternality, we respond like the disciples did at the transfiguration. “When the disciples heard [the voice of God the Father], they fell on their faces and were terrified.” (Matthew 17:6) But Christ doesn’t leave us in our woeful, terrified state. Matthew 17:7 goes on to say, “But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Rise, and have no fear.’ And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.” God sees our frailty and responds with His lovingkindness. Psalm 103:13-14 tells us, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.”
My prayer for you and me this Lenten season is that we would realize our human frailty – that we are deeply sinful and weak-willed - and turn to God with repentant hearts. Then out of our frailty, let us turn to God so that ultimately we will see “no one but Jesus only.”
I have often participated in the imposition of ashes at the Lutheran church I attend back home, but never had I truly grasped the gravity of that symbolic act of worship. It is truly a sobering experience to stand in line with men and women of diverse ages and backgrounds and hear the pastor proclaim to each and every one of them, “Dust you are. To dust you will return.” And then it was my turn.
After the service, the congregants were asked to leave in silence. I took some time to pray, and then I drove home feeling overwhelmed by my frailty. When we realize our sinfulness and finiteness in light of God’s holiness and eternality, we respond like the disciples did at the transfiguration. “When the disciples heard [the voice of God the Father], they fell on their faces and were terrified.” (Matthew 17:6) But Christ doesn’t leave us in our woeful, terrified state. Matthew 17:7 goes on to say, “But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Rise, and have no fear.’ And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.” God sees our frailty and responds with His lovingkindness. Psalm 103:13-14 tells us, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.”
My prayer for you and me this Lenten season is that we would realize our human frailty – that we are deeply sinful and weak-willed - and turn to God with repentant hearts. Then out of our frailty, let us turn to God so that ultimately we will see “no one but Jesus only.”
February 2016
The Global Church
From January 28th to the 30th of 2016, I had the opportunity to attend the Worship Symposium at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, MI. This annual event is put on by the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship. During the symposium I was challenged to look at the church in a more ecumenical and international light. I had the opportunity to attend several classes and seminars on multi-cultural, multi-lingual worship. One speaker shared about his experience as a refugee fleeing El Salvador and the hope he found in the Psalms. An Egyptian pastor shared her perspective on discerning media and praying for the international church. A special needs teacher presented helpful ideas and techniques for fomenting inclusive worship for those with various disabilities. All of this enriched my understanding of how and why we worship God.
One of the workshops presented an especially helpful model for planning balanced, diverse services. The speaker suggested that every service should have elements of "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." He then explained each of these concepts.
"Something old" speaks of the value of incorporating traditional elements into the service that connect us with worshiping communities throughout history.
"Something new" aligns with the mandate found in Ps. 33:3 and 96:1 to sing a new song to the LORD.
"Something borrowed" refers to using a song or other service element from outside of your home culture. Each culture emphasizes different aspects of who God is and how we worship Him. By borrowing elements from other cultures, we gain a broader, deeper understanding of God's character and a better appreciation of the diversity of God's people.
"Something blue" suggests the inclusion of a lament within the service. At any given time, some of the members of the congregation are experiencing difficult times. Expressing lament provides congregants a safe place to genuinely verbalize their sorrow and gives the service leader the opportunity to point them back to God's faithfulness and goodness.
I saw, heard, sang, and learned much at the symposium. I was challenged to think in new ways and to try new things that would better reflect the diversity of the body of Christ. Overall, it was a fantastic experience, and I hope to return to Calvin for future symposiums.
For more information concerning the Calvin Worship Symposium, check out the link below.
One of the workshops presented an especially helpful model for planning balanced, diverse services. The speaker suggested that every service should have elements of "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." He then explained each of these concepts.
"Something old" speaks of the value of incorporating traditional elements into the service that connect us with worshiping communities throughout history.
"Something new" aligns with the mandate found in Ps. 33:3 and 96:1 to sing a new song to the LORD.
"Something borrowed" refers to using a song or other service element from outside of your home culture. Each culture emphasizes different aspects of who God is and how we worship Him. By borrowing elements from other cultures, we gain a broader, deeper understanding of God's character and a better appreciation of the diversity of God's people.
"Something blue" suggests the inclusion of a lament within the service. At any given time, some of the members of the congregation are experiencing difficult times. Expressing lament provides congregants a safe place to genuinely verbalize their sorrow and gives the service leader the opportunity to point them back to God's faithfulness and goodness.
I saw, heard, sang, and learned much at the symposium. I was challenged to think in new ways and to try new things that would better reflect the diversity of the body of Christ. Overall, it was a fantastic experience, and I hope to return to Calvin for future symposiums.
For more information concerning the Calvin Worship Symposium, check out the link below.
November 2015
The Missions-Focused Church
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A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit Ginghamsburg Methodist Church in Tipp City, OH. In light of the attacks on Paris and Beirut, the leadership team decided to focus exclusively on the Syrian crises, the terrorist attacks, and the Christian response. This video was shown during the service; I find it both heartbreaking and encouraging. I pray that as you watch this video you will be challenged, as I was, to live out your faith by showing God's love to a broken world.
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September 2015
Psalm 22 Chapel
Praise chapel was a fantastic experience that strengthened my bonds with my fellow worshipers, and brought me closer to my Savior.
To watch the chapel (September 15, 2015) click the link below.
Currently I am in a class called Worship Practicum. In it, we not only discuss our theology of worship and its application, but also practice it. On September 15, 2015, we had the opportunity to present chapel to the student body. We decided upon the theme "Why God?" based upon Psalm 22. I had the privilege to participate in the creation of the videos used, play piano for the first few songs, and then sing in the choir for the rest of the service. Just before we were dismissed from rehearsal the evening before, we spent time in prayer, asking God's blessing upon the chapel. We knew that unless the God was in our work, it would be worthless.
The next morning, we rehearsed as much of it as we could in the limited time allotted us, and then we went and prayed together. Suddenly the seriousness of what we were doing struck me like a bullet; we were presenting the Gospel truth to a world of hurting, broken individuals who have been deeply affected by the curse of sin. Our every word, our every note counted. Souls were hanging in the balance. And the only way we would have success was if God showed up. And He did show up in a powerful way! The chapel not only went over well musically, but it also had a profound impact on the student body and the faculty and staff. For the success of the chapel, I echo the words of Fanny Crosby in her hymn, "To God Be the Glory":
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
Let the earth hear His voice;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
Let the people rejoice;
Oh, come to the Father, through Jesus the Son,
And give Him the glory; great things He hath done.
The next morning, we rehearsed as much of it as we could in the limited time allotted us, and then we went and prayed together. Suddenly the seriousness of what we were doing struck me like a bullet; we were presenting the Gospel truth to a world of hurting, broken individuals who have been deeply affected by the curse of sin. Our every word, our every note counted. Souls were hanging in the balance. And the only way we would have success was if God showed up. And He did show up in a powerful way! The chapel not only went over well musically, but it also had a profound impact on the student body and the faculty and staff. For the success of the chapel, I echo the words of Fanny Crosby in her hymn, "To God Be the Glory":
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
Let the earth hear His voice;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
Let the people rejoice;
Oh, come to the Father, through Jesus the Son,
And give Him the glory; great things He hath done.
Spring 2015
Spain
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I spent the spring of 2015 studying abroad in Spain. It was a great experience, but also one of the most difficult of my life. My official task in Spain was to learn the history, culture, and language of Spain. While I did learn about all of those things, the most difficult part of my experience was standing for Christ in the midst of a very secular culture. The family that hosted me was nominally Catholic - that is to say, they claimed to be Catholic yet did not follow the Catholic faith; they were not Christians. It was definitely a trying time for me as I sought for ways to stay true to my beliefs yet respect and love them. |
Religious Background: How Catholicism has shaped SpainMuch of Europe maintains the strong influence of Catholicism, but perhaps nowhere more than in Spain. For most Spaniards, the only church they've ever known, the only "flavor" of Christianity (if you will) they've tasted is Catholicism. Unfortunately, that has left a bitter taste in the mouths of many. Let me back up and explain a bit of the history.
King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were the first Catholic leaders of the fledgling country. In fact, historically speaking, they are seen as the ones who brought the various kingdoms of Spain together to form what is, more or less, modern-day Spain. The harsh Spanish inquisition began under King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella and continued for centuries. Since the beginning of the reign of the Catholic monarchs, the Catholic church has held a strong influence over every aspect of Spanish life. In more recent history, the ruling dictator of Spain for more than 30 years, Francisco Franco, was a devout Catholic. A dictator-imposed religion never fares well among the common people; while some people lauded his "moral leadership," many were oppressed and disillusioned under his regime. Even now over two decades after his death, the effects of his regime are rampant. For many, the Catholic church is solely a social place, the place for first communions, baptisms, weddings, and funerals. The connection between the church and God has been lost by most Spaniards. When talking with the Spaniards I met, many told me (to my grief) that they believe in God but not in the church. |
Processional in Seville during Holy Week in southern Spain. Processionals are a common way to celebrate Holy Week and remember Christ's sacrifice. Many also participate as a form of penitence, a way to "earn forgiveness."
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Learning from my Catholic brothersAll that being said, there are still Catholic Christians in Spain. Though I am not a Catholic, I attended mass almost daily at a church near the institute where I studied. I learned many things in that small parish of Carmelites. For example, I was touched by the deep respect that the Catholics had for the Word of God and the sacraments. I had always viewed the crossing of one's self as a meaningless tradition, but now I view it as a great exercise to remind myself of the Trinitarian work of sanctifying our hearts, minds, and whole bodies through the Word of God. The lessons I learned from my Catholic brethren are invaluable and have deeply impacted how I view God and the worship of God.
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Picture of the Carmelite parish that I attended while in Spain
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