The Face of Faith

I wrestle with faith; every follower of Jesus should.  Not because our faith is small, or it’s weak. But because it’s a mystery.

Faith is too often talked about as if it were a personal possession or a character trait.  Your marriage didn’t work because you didn’t have enough faith. Your child died because your faith was weak. Have faith, and everything will be okay.  Then when a spouse leaves the marriage, an innocent chid succoms to an illness or that promotion goes to a less-qualified coworker, the reason seems simple: you didn’t have enough faith.

The solution is equally simple; first beat yourself up for failing God, then grit your teeth and conjure up more faith! We see faith as something that is our responsibility to create, and if we do our job well, God will reward our efforts, “our” faith.

Matt and Bobbye are two of the most faithful Christ followers I’ve ever known.  They love Jesus; they teach Jesus; they live, sleep, eat and breath Jesus; and they exude the peace, love, and joy of those that follow Jesus constantly.  Yet on June 25th, 7000 volts of electricity passed through Matt’s body, nearly killing him. Bobbye was present at the scene to bear witness to the horror.  Matt has endured nearly a dozen surgeries and remains bandaged today, with the prospect of more surgery to come.  He has suffered what has been described as the worst pain a human can endure and literally lives today with his scars on his sleeve for all to see.

Yet the faith of Matt and Bobbye is intact . . . fully intact, flourishing, and growing.  Why? Don’t they understand that if they had more faith this would never have happened? Don’t they know that things like this only happen to those who disappoint God? Shouldn’t they be examining their lives for their shortcomings? If Christianity is based on our personal striving, then the answer to all these questions is, Yes!  If God is capricious, punishing those who fall short and rewarding those who work hard then, Yes! If God measures us, accepting those who earn mercy and punishing those who didn’t do enough, then Yes! They and we should accept our punishment and work hard to do better.

While this might seem a completely reasonably formula, it is is utterly unChristian.

In John 9, Jesus’ disciples asked him an eerily similar question when coming across a blind man on the road. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?” Jesus answered "Neither this man nor his parents sinned…

Matt and Bobbye spent several hours with our staff last week.  They told story after story of people approaching them, asking what happened, then sharing the hurts of their lives.  The woman who stopped them in the parking lot of the Harley dealer and ended up crying as she confided her pain to this precious young couple, then was comforted and nurtured by Matt and Bobbye!

            ...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The jaded firefighters whose hearts were broken by this call.

            ...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The medical staff who Matt began praying for almost as soon as he regained consciousness.

            ...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The friends and family that have been participating in bible studies and spiritual support groups led by Matt and Bobbye.

...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The church that needs to be reminded of the grandeur of God.

...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

The World Wide Wake Boarding community who love Matt without understanding the God he serves.

...this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

It would be presumptuous for me to say that this was allowed to happened so that the works of God might be displayed in Matt, so I won’t say it.  But I will tell you that is the Bible passage Matt shared with us last Tuesday.

God does not promise us wealth, or fame, or respect, or accolades, or an escape from pain or hunger or suffering or even death as a reward for our faith or anything else.  In fact, Christ followers can expect all those things and more.  

God, however, offers us the opportunity to share in the work that he has ordained.  He graciously permits us to be his hands and feet to share his love with a hurting woman in the parking lot of a Harley dealership, or the back of an ambulance, or a burn unit . . . or with our neighbors. Faith is the mysterious gift from God that fuels his work.  It flows from God, through us to a world that desperately needs his love, comfort, forgiveness and grace.  And sometimes our pain can give the world a glimpse into God’s grace.

I don’t understand it; I don’t always like it, but I trust the one who is the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2)

Amen

John Monday

Touchstone

I’m more than occasionally afflicted by sentimentalism, and my family recently underwent a group case of the disorder.

In February of 2000, Vickie and I traded her sporty Thunderbird for a practical Ford Explorer.  She was seven months pregnant with Luke, and as awesome as the Thunderbird was, it wasn't a family car.  Two months later, we drove our first baby home in that Explorer.

On Sept 11, 2001, we were on our way to get the tires exchanged due to the Firestone recall when she heard on the radio that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center.  I was following her and will always remember watching her get out of her car at a traffic light and come back to my truck to tell me what was happening.

In March of 2003, our almost three-year-old son and I went to pick up Vickie and our new baby girl, Taylor, in the Explorer.

For almost 15 years we drove that car (Sally) on countless family vacations—from the Florida Keys to Upper Michigan.  It made more than 1500 trips to school. It faithfully took us to doctors appointments, church, the beach, and always to work.  It’s safe to say that we drove our money out of that car.

So in August, it was evident that Vickie needed to trade. Sally squeaked (or talked according to Taylor) at every bump and turn in the road.  The oil stain on the driveway was becoming embarrassing.  The carpet was a series of stains (or memories according to your perspective), and you were reminded of the leak in the back window by the vague musty smell every time you opened the door.

Yet when the time came, it was hard to see the Explorer go. Intellectually, we understood that a car is just an arrangement of steel and plastic, glass and rubber.  It has no soul, no heart, no personality.  Yet we sense an emotional bond, a loss at seeing it go away. Why?

To be human means to experience loss. The older we get, the more acutely we understand our ultimate inability to hold onto anything.  We lose childhood homes. We move from the cities or towns of our youth. We leave one school for another; we get a job and leave a job. We lose friends and relatives to time, space, and eventually to death.  All of these things are the touchstones of our lives, be they a friend, a house, a parent, or a car.

These touchstones trigger the memories that make us who we are. Anyone who has ever revisited an important place from their youth will understand. When you walk into a home or down a school hall that you haven't seen in decades, or when you reconnect with a friend or relative who has been missing from your life, the lost memories flood your mind. When we lose a touchstone, we instinctively realize that we are losing a part of ourselves, a set of memories that we may never recapture.

Loss is death . . . but it’s not supposed to be that way.

God whispers that we were built for life, not for death.  That death and loss are unnatural. That there is a reality of eternal discovery, exploration, and relationship.  The reality that we were made for, the reality that our spirit is testifying to every time we sense the pain of loss.

As Jesus hung on the cross, the thief next to him, being convinced that Jesus was indeed a king who would survive this crucifixion, uttered the words, “Remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” I love those words. He didn’t ask to be saved or spared.  He didn’t seek pity or mercy. He asked to be remembered. So many seek to be remembered, to leave a legacy, to make a lasting impact, but this remembering is different.

Jesus’ response to the request to be remembered was to declare that the thief would be with him in paradise.  Jesus displayed himself as the ultimate touchstone, the cornerstone on which our true reality is founded. To be remembered by Jesus is not to leave a legacy—it’s to be his legacy.

To be remembered by Jesus is to be completed, to be healed, to be restored to the divine intention—to return to the eternal life of discovery, exploration and relationship. To be remembered by Jesus is to never lose or be lost again.

He has sought us, and he has saved us. He has done everything to restore us to the eternal life that’s written in our hearts and declared in his word. He loves us.

So our Explorer is gone.  It’s a little sad, but it’s okay.  After all, it’s just an arrangement of steel and plastic, glass and rubber.  It’s just a small touchstone of loss to remind us of a greater reality.

John Monday

Earning Heaven

“Will God keep me out of heaven because I don’t take better care of my mother?”  It was an unexpected question that came from a soul that had been tortured for more than fifty years.  The question was followed by a litany of explanations for her behavior and decisions regarding her mother. It seemed important that she be able to justify her behavior and convince me, or perhaps God, that she was a good person despite the way she has treated her mother for the last 50 years.  

Truth be told, after listening to her torment of the last fifty years, I had a hard time finding fault and was not at all sure that I would have done any better.  But the thing that was most concerning was not her behavior or decisions. It was her deep need to justify her actions.

Will God keep me out of Heaven because . . . ?  It’s not such an unusual question.  I’ll bet you’ve asked it yourself, if only silently.  Will God keep me out of heaven because . . .

• I’m divorced
• I can’t stop drinking
• I’m gay
• I abandoned my kids
• I wear jewelry
• I don’t give enough money to church
• I can’t stop looking at porn
• I belong to the wrong denomination
• Of my business practices
• Church people disgust me
• I smoke
• I was born in the wrong country
• My father abused me
• I’m a bad person
• I haven't been baptized
• I quit going to church

Maybe you see a question here that resonates. Maybe yours simply hovers in your conscience.  I expect that, as you look over this list, you may see some things that cause you to say, “Why would anyone even think that’s a problem?” and others for which you might banish people, were you God.

There is much talk inside and outside Christian circles today about “sin”, and we all seem to be trying to nail down exactly what it is and what it is not. We want a good definition, a list, a standard to which we can measure ourselves (or more likely each other) to see if we’re sinners . . . if God finds us acceptable. If we can’t gain sufficient comfort in a list of rules, then we search for reasons why we’re not responsible. “I abuse my kids because my father abused me,” “You have to be shrewd in business to survive,” “The people at church are money grubbers and hypocrites.”

I’ve become tired of the conversations around determining what is and what isn’t sin and how our environment or genetics are the truly responsible agents. I’m tired because these arguments are framed to miss the point.

We have become a society, and all too often a church, that advances two ways in which we can be justified. We convince ourselves that either: there is nothing wrong with what we’re doing, or It’s not our fault.  Either of these conclusions cuts us off from the redemption we find in Jesus.

The truth is that we are all hopeless and helpless sinners mired in our own depravity with no capacity whatsoever to rise above our own sin, AND there is nothing on the above list or any other that can separate us from the love of God through Jesus. We will never develop a list that will keep us from being sinners, and we can never use our human condition to mitigate our responsibility.

To be human is to have shadows on our conscience. What makes all the difference is what we do with them.  We are sinners. Jesus is our friend, our Savior, and our only hope.  When we truly embrace these core truths, perhaps then we can explore all those questions of secondary importance without the need to either condemn or justify ourselves or our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Ultimately, I passed along to this tormented soul one of the few truths of which I’m certain and on which hang all my hopes. “There is absolutely nothing that we can do to get us into heaven and nothing we can do that will keep us out, and that is good news indeed for me.”

John Monday

The Non-Negotiable

A religion that changes our mind but leaves our hearts unaffected is worthless. Likewise, a faith, religion, or relationship with God that changes our hearts but leaves our minds flawed is to be expected.  

To have clarity of mind and a good understanding of sound doctrine is a great thing, but a heart changed by God is essential.  For that reason, we must allow liberty of thought while demanding a heart of love.

There is very little doctrine that is critical.  Love is non-negotiable.  

1 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. 2 If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. 3 If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love. 4 Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, Doesn't have a swelled head,5 Doesn't force itself on others, Isn't always "me first," Doesn't fly off the handle, Doesn't keep score of the sins of others, 6 Doesn't revel when others grovel, Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, 7 Puts up with anything, Trusts God always, Always looks for the best, Never looks back, But keeps going to the end. 8 Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. 9 We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. 10 But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled. 11 When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good. 12 We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! 13 But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

1 Corinthians 1:1-13, The Message

John Monday

Noah: What's the Point? by John Monday

Last week, Tami, the Worship Director at our church, invited her team of Worship Hosts to see the movie Noah.  It was a brilliant way to express thanks for the work of these volunteers.  I had been looking forward to seeing the movie, so I took the opportunity to go and bring my almost-14-year-old son, Luke.

Movies and movie makers fascinate me, especially larger than life epic movies.  I stand in awe of their ability to take us to another place and lead us through emotional and intellectual journeys.  In short, I love their ability to tell stories. 

As much as I appreciate movie-makers, anyone who would want to take on a topic that has anything to do with the Bible must be a little crazy.  For many, the Bible is not just ancient mythology, it’s core to their beliefs and identity; I’m in that group. There are billions of people in thousands of faith groups who have widely divergent beliefs around Noah and the flood. Many (including the entire Muslim, Christian and Jewish world) hold Noah and the flood as a core part of their faith. Many in my tribe will view the movie through a Christian prism, but more than that, through a Christian prism specific to a small segment of Christianity. It’s difficult to set aside the prism through which we see the world. Making movies from content that is so ideologically charged seems destined to create controversy.

So if the Bible can mean so many different things to so many different people, what is it?

Is it history? Sure. The Bible gives us an account.  It traces a thread through time that guides us from the distant past - in fact, from the very beginning. But it’s hardly a complete documentation of history.

Is it science? Maybe somewhat. At least it speaks in a broad sense to some scientific issues.  But is it a complete text of how things work? Certainly not. It gives us some touchstones and opens a universe for us to explore and study and question.

Is it an instruction manual? To be sure, it does contain great wisdom and many guidelines for everything from diet to childrearing to business dealings.  But does it contain a step-by-step troubling shooting guide for every situation? I don’t think so.

Is it a fact book to test history, science, and behavior? Or is it something more?

More than anything else, the Bible is a story. Not a story like the time I came home muddy and late from school to find Ms. Mary waiting at the door.  With her kind face flowing up out of her billowing dress and doing her best to look stern she asked where I’d been.  When I made up a lame excuse like “a car splashed through a puddle and soaked me,” she knew I’d been chasing tadpoles in a drainage ditch and chided me for “telling stories.”

The Bible is not that kind of story.  Rather, it’s a story in the best sense.  Used well, stories convey a point, and at their best that point is a deeper truth. I believe the Bible is a story meant to convey the best and deepest truth.

So in an attempt to hear the story and screen out what I knew would be many competing voices of concern, I intentionally avoided any reviews, debates, or even conversation about the movie.  Rather, I wanted to go into the movie with two questions: 1) What is the point of the biblical story of Noah. 2) What is the point of the movie?  If the point or points of the movie were in harmony with the point of the biblical story, was that enough?

The movie challenged me, and afterward we enjoyed a lively conversation.  We talked about biblical accuracy, the length of time on the Ark, who was on the Ark, the depiction and purpose of fallen angels, the scope and duration of the flood, the people left behind, the moral character of Noah, and we had some deeper conversations about how it portrayed God. It seems that some of the “facts” of the movie didn’t harmonize with our understanding of the story.

Later, I began to read some of the many reviews.  I also read and re-read the biblical account. There is plenty to read about the movie.  Like our little group, some are appalled, some are thrilled, and many are in between.  But almost all of the debate centers around the facts; there is very little discussion about the point.

So I return to the questions I brought into the movie. What is the point of the story? It seems an easy question, but I didn’t come out with any clear answer.  It seems that we are likely to carry out whatever point we carry in.  One reviewer said in essence, “it’s just a movie, go be entertained, but don’t look for a meaning.” While I agree that we could all be a little less critical, I’m not satisfied to separate God from a story about Noah.  In fact, I’m much more inclined to search for God in a Transformers movie then remove God from Noah.

I saw a story of grace and redemption in the movie, but I’ll admit that I was looking to find that, and someone else could just as easily have seen a God of vengeance and destruction. So how was the movie?

On our way home after exposing my son first to the movie and then to the discussion, with some trepidation I asked, “What is the point of the Noah story?” His simple and deep answer? “God is powerful enough to destroy evil.”

Hmm . . . I can live with that. In fact that’s pretty good.

While I stood ready to correct all kinds of theological error, I now realize that he came without prejudgements, and he got it. It’s not the complete story of God, but it’s plenty to get from this movie. It’s a true and deep point of the Bible that can be woven together with the rest of the points to tell the story of God’s love and redemption.

So in the end, I’ll simply say thank you to Darren Aronofsky for telling a story that conveyed the point.

Here are a couple reviews that I found enjoyable:

http://www.haaretz.com/blogs/the-lighthouse/.premium-1.583432

http://io9.com/noah-is-the-best-and-worst-bible-movie-youll-ever-see-1553829598

Have you seen the movie?  What did you think?

(Please only comment if you’ve actually seen the movie and have an informed opinion.)

John Monday