I’m helping a friend of mine do some research for a question he is struggling with. In the process I came across this quote from Mark Driscoll:
Old Calvinism was fearful and suspicious of other Christians and burned bridges. New Calvinism loves all Christians and builds bridges between them.
It made me curious as to whether my friends and colleagues share Driscoll’s perspective. Does Driscoll’s representation conform to your experience?
I like to throw things in wordle occasionally as it gives you a visual representation of what you wrote. Worlde turns written works into visual art. (Plus, it’s fun.) If you want to know what my dissertation is about then feel free to take a gander:
I started a blog series a month or so ago talking about what I’ve learned about myself and God since becoming the Lead Pastor as Crossbridge. I could probably save this one for the end, because I think this is the single greatest lesson that God has been teaching me. But I didn’t, instead I’m writing about right now…and now…and…the joke isn’t really working is it? Without further lame jokes, here were go:
God’s peace is really worth it. I’ve faced some tough moments over the past year and a half. Mistakes, lessons learned the hard way, unmet expectations, all that jazz. Dan Cole and I were sitting around this morning laughing and telling Greg Buchanan stories about some of our most awkward and boneheaded moments from the past year. It’s fun to laugh about them now, but in the moment there was some real pain. It’s painful to watch people get upset. It’s painful to make mistakes and live with the fallout. It’s painful to believe that you are following God, and watch people get angry with you as a result. But in the midst of it all I’ve experienced God’s peace in a way I never have before. In the midst of stressful times, hard decisions, and feeling the jarring weight of leadership I’ve felt the God’s presence and his peace in an unprecedented way. That peace makes the pain worth it.
I’ve always placed a lot of stock in Jesus’ promise to give us life and give it to the full, but there is a difference between cognitive knowledge and experiential knowledge. I know that those who followed Jesus most closely often had hard lives. And yet Paul writes about joy from prison, and James, who was later martyred for his faith, talks about considering it pure joy whenever we face trials. So if following Jesus doesn’t give you an easy life, then what is life to the full? I think having an inner peace that holds even when life sucks is a start. I may not be able to write Paul’s words that I know what it is to be content in all circumstances, but I am beginning to see that God’s peace is worth it.
This past week we were preaching through Luke 10 at Crossbridge. I wanted to continue the story from the Good Samaritan into Luke’s account of Jesus at the home of Mary and Martha. Luke has a way of joining stories together that are interesting in their own right, but sometimes you see new things when you read them in conjunction with their surrounding context. (That crazy reading in context thing will get you every time.) However, we ran out of time on Sunday and I promised a blog to fill in the gap.
In this instance Jesus has just finished helping the religious expert in the law see what God was talking about in Leviticus 19:18, where God instructs his people to love their neighbor. In the process Jesus shows the man how loving your neighbor does not just mean to love the “sons of your own people,” nor is it simply to love the foreigner within your gates. (Both were popular interpretations of the passage from the larger Leviticus context.) Instead Jesus tells a provocative parable that extends the borders of what it means to be a neighbor. The hated Samaritan ends up being the hero of the story. As Kenneth Bailey points out, scholars from Augustine to Ambrose, Origen to Ibn al-Tayyib have long seen the figure of the Good Samaritan as a figure of Jesus–the surprising dispenser of unmerited grace who breaks in from the outside, and radical changes the way we see the mission of God. In the parable of the Good Samaritan Jesus extends the borders of our conception of neighbor, and extends the borders of God’s mission.
Luke then moves into the account of Jesus at the home of Mary and Martha:
38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Its a weird little account. Martha is clearly being a good host. Jesus traveled with an entourage of who knows how many. Martha is busy preparing food, cleaning dishes, and preparing rooms for the guests. The strictures of Middle Eastern hospitality would expect her to do as much. Fred Craddock in his commentary on Luke cautions preachers not to turn this account into a farce, overplaying Martha in the kitchen up to her elbows in soapsuds. I wonder how many hardworking women have been skewered with simplistic readings of this text?
Craddock reads the passage as a contrast to the Good Samaritan. In that story Jesus ends the parable with an invitation to the religious expert to “go and do likewise.” Here Jesus tells that Mary has chosen what is better, in that she has chosen to “sit and listen.” Craddock sees Jesus answering each according to their need and the situation, sometimes what is needed is to go and put your knowledge into practice, sometimes what is needed is to sit, be still, and learn. It’s a good reading of the passage, and it preaches well. Recently, however, I read a different interpretation by N. T Wright that I believe deserves mention.
Wright claims that what is really at stake here is normative gender roles. Jesus has allowed Mary to cross into a typically male space. There were certain parts of the house quite literally reserved for women, like the kitchen and back areas of the house. The main room would have been a place for men to congregate and talk. Remember good Jewish rabbis were reported to refuse to even talk to their own wives in public. (This wasn’t unique to Jewish culture. Greek and Roman cultures also had strictures on the places women could go in society.) The problem, Wright says, is not just that Mary isn’t helping with the dishes, it’s that she is out of her assigned role. Women were not permitted to congregate with men in the main room of the house, nor were women allowed to take the posture of the disciple. But that is exactly what Mary is doing. Sitting at the feet of the rabbi is an idiomatic phrase for being a disciple. I am not an expert on Jewish rabbis, but in all my research and reading I have never heard of one in Jesus’ day that took on women as disciples. Luke has already pointed out earlier in his Gospel that Jesus and his disciples were supported by women of means, and Luke tells us that Jesus allowed these women to travel with him. Other rabbis were supported by women, but again to allow the women to travel with Jesus would have been scandalous. We also see the scandal of Jesus at dinner with the Pharisees, having his feet washed with a woman’s tears. In that case Jesus affirms her actions, although it would have been a serious breach of Jewish custom. In this case Jesus affirms Mary’s choice to the surprise and frustration of Martha.
Jesus says some words that kind of haunt me here: “Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.” In the a culture that took so much from women, Jesus refuses to take this honor from Mary. If the story of the Good Samaritan is the story of Jesus extending the borders of our understanding of the mission of God, then it is easy to read the story of May and Martha as an example of Jesus extending the kingdom of God beyond normative gender roles. The experience must have haunted a few of Jesus’ disciples as well, because years after the event it was still being told until Luke picks it up and writes it down.
In a culture like ours, where we still argue about normative and accepted gender roles, I feel certain that Jesus attitude towards women deserves renewed attention. True his attitude is not the only one recoded in the New Testament, but it is certainly important. Mary is sitting there in a male dominated space, accepted in the seat of a disciple, and affirmed by Jesus’ words. ”Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her?” How does Jesus expect us to apply his teaching today?
This morning I promised to post some material that didn’t make it into the teaching. At Crossbridge we are continuing our series in Luke, and this morning we came to one of those transitional moments where Luke directs the story into a new direction. In Luke 9:51 Jesus turns his face to Jerusalem and sets out for the cross. Luke’s presentation pictures Jesus on a quest; a difficult journey that ultimately leads to an unparalleled prize.
But as with all quests the journey is difficult. Immediately after setting out for Jerusalem Jesus is met with with a test. Here’s how Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem begins:
Luke 9:52 And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; 53 but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. 54 When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” 55 But Jesus turned and rebuked them, 56 and they went to another village.
Earlier Jesus experienced a significant moment in his ministry in his baptism. In the next scene Luke shows Jesus being rejected in his hometown of Nazareth. Here Jesus has just gone through another important moment in his ministry–the Transfiguration. And again Jesus is subsequently faced with rejection in Samaria.
Of course the disciples want to deal with this rejection in the best way they know how. They want to call down fire on the ungrateful half-breeds. (Samaritans where half Jewish and half other nationalities. The Jewish people of Jesus’ day despised the Samaritans, and the Samaritans retuned the favor in kind.) Perhaps the disciples thought they were doing what one of the Old Testament prophets might have done. Maybe they saw themselves as Elijah calling down fire on his enemies. To them a fire storm must have seemed a fitting punishment. Of course the disciples didn’t often get what Jesus was about.
For their part, the Samaritans had reasons to reject Jewish individuals at this time of year. Jesus was on his way to the Passover in Jerusalem, a time of particular unease between Jews and Samaritans. Part of the reason the Samritans might have rejected Jesus is that Jesus was one his way to Jerusalem for the Passover. As Michael Card tells us:
“Passover was a particular of tension between Jews and Samaritans. They took turns desecrating each other’s temples. One Passover, the Samaritans dug up some graves and threw the bones into the temple court to keep the Jews from celebrating their most holy feast. The next year the Jews responded by burning the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim to the ground.
Whatever the reason for the rejection, we must not miss what Jesus was trying to do. Fred Craddock points out:
But more significant is the fact that Jesus has sent two disciples into a Samaritan village to arrange for lodging and food. Jesus was planning to take his ministry among these outsiders, these despised half-Jewish heretics!
Jesus wasn’t interested in a fiery judgment for the Samaritans. In fact Jesus later tells his disciples that they will be His witness in Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria. When Jesus tells one of his most famous parables about what it looks like to love your neighbor, he makes a Samaritan the hero of the story.
Jesus wanted to take his ministry to Samaria. To extend his kingdom message out beyond the borders of the Jewish religion, but at this time the Samaritans weren’t ready. That’s ok. Jesus is patient, knowing that a day is coming when they will be ready to listen.
Jesus quest begins with rejection, but he knew that he would often be rejected. He gives his disciples instructions on how to deal with rejection telling them to shake the dust of their sandals and look for more hospitable places.
For our part the journey with Jesus isn’t an us vs. them thing. We aren’t at war with our culture to save it from itself. Our job is not to wage some ‘holy’ war on those that reject the message of the Gospel. Jesus shows suprising grace. He wants to go to a place that many of his Jewish counterparts would rather avoid, and while he wants to bring a message of hope, he is gracious even in their rejection. That sort of grace must have surprised his followers. Far from condoning the disciple’s ‘righteous’ indignation, he rebukes them and turns away to another village. For us I think we have the opportunity to follow Jesus in his desire for the best for all people and also in his grace even to those who reject him.
It’s 2012 and I’m looking for some recommendations. I’ve chosen the number 5 in a completely arbitrary fashion, and if that number doesn’t serve you feel free to ignore it for one its more pleasurable neighbors.
Here’s what I’m look for:
1. Top 5 albums I should download. I don’t stay up to date on music as it is my least indulged entertainment, but I am in need of some new stuff for driving and writing. If you would be so kind as to recommend some quality music I’d be most appreciative. (But seriously no country, you’re just wasting my time and yours, and Mark Michael no Foy Vance.)
2. Top 5 books. I’m always reading, and I always love a quality recommendation.
3. Top 5 blogs. I don’t normally read a lot of blogs, because I believe bloggers are stupid and are ruining the world. No, but seriously I am cleaning out my feedreader, and I’m looking for some quality stuff to fill in the gaps.
4. Top 5 things I should know about, but probably don’t. I’m starting to feel it. I’m getting old and out of touch. I mean for goodness sakes I didn’t know about the powers of the honey badger until just recently. (Thanks Dan Hackett.) Please feel free to interpret this liberally and include more than just humorous youtube clips.
5. I don’t have a fifth request, but as I asked for fives of everything else I thought there should be a fifth category.
Thanks in advance for the recommendations and here’s to a great 2012.
If you want to see what we talked about yesterday, here it is:
If you’re just joining this blog, right now I’m journaling through some of the things I’ve learned in my first year and a half as a Lead Pastor. Here’s number 3.
3. I like to be liked.
I was having a conversation on Monday with Elizabeth Langgle. Elizabeth leads our Kid’s Ministry and does an amazing job. (Have I mentioned how much I love the staff at Crossbridge?) Elizabeth also is working on her MA in social work and happens to be a pretty bright individual. We were talking about a more controversial topic that is being bandied about by Churches all over the country at the moment. We talked about the different stances many Churches take and the perceptions of those Churches. I noticed something disturbing.
Within each stance there is a potential to fall to far to one side or the other for the sake of pleasing some. Many pastors struggle with pride, but I believe many pastors also struggle with the desire to be well-liked.
Some Churches fall hard to the right and take strong stances. They make bombastic claims, and their rhetoric is fiery. They look as if they stand for truth, but I wonder how much of their decision is influenced by their desire to please people? In this instance it looks like the leader wants to court the approval of the conservative, religious elite. I wonder: are some truth claims really chances to demonstrate your bona fides in the Religious Right? They may believe they’re right, but they amp up the presentation just enough to make the Christians and the religious elite feel at home, to let them know who clearly belongs and who does not. I see the attraction in this because this sort of identity construction gets you jeers from some, but leaves you very well-liked by others.
One the other side is the Church that falls too hard to the opposite end of the spectrum. Their claims can be just as bombastic and their rhetoric just as fiery, but it points in the opposite direction. I wonder if this Church too is led by someone who wants to be liked? Instead of desiring the accolades of the Religious Right, they want the accolades of others. Maybe it’s the self described liberal-Christian, maybe it’s the disconnected person, or maybe it hopes to show the intellectual elites that he or she is really one of them. This leader too likes to be liked, they have simply chosen another crowd to like them.
At times I have felt the pressure to court both people. After a year and a half I wonder if this sort of divide is really an exercise in missing the point. Jesus never fit into anyones neatly defined boxes. At times Jesus sounded like an Essene, but no Essene would be seen at the parties of tax collectors. At other times he sounded like a zealot, speaking of revolution and a new kingdom, but no zealot would commend the meek or be labeled a Prince of Peace. Others might have wanted to put Jesus into the Pharisee camp, but his teachings never neatly fit there either. (It also didn’t help that he kept telling them they were a bored of vipers and whatnot.) Jesus transcended the social groups of his day.
The life of Jesus causes me to reflect on my own leadership style. If pride is the greatest obstacle I face, then only slightly less problematic is my desire to please people. I like to be liked. I thought if I was diplomatic enough, if we as a staff always tried to demonstrate how we were doing our best to honor God, and if I always tried to answer with love and humility it would be enough. That was naive. In my time at Crossbridge we have had people frustrated because we are too liberal and others because we are too conservative. We have had people upset because we talk about money too much, and people are upset that we don’t take a harder stance. Some are upset because we place too much emphasis on what the Bible says and others just think we’re heretics. While many disconnected people have come to journey with our faith community, some have left because we do not fit into their notions of what a Church should be, or perhaps they have left because I don’t fall into the mold of the leader they wanted.
As a leader I always have to check motives and make sure that we are charting a course not for the sake of pleasing people, but because we really believe it is the path we are called to walk. If we manage to do it the way Jesus did it will often mean that we do not fit neatly into the tiny boxes created by American Christianity. This other way will surely displease some, and we have to be comfortable with that. That does not mean that as a Lead Pastor my job is to be a jerk for Jesus. There are other guys to fill that role. Instead we walk humbly, we maintain a posture of patience and love, but we know that the path we choose to walk will not please some. That’s ok. My job is also not to please people. If we can’t speak truth because we are afraid what people will think there are other callings more fitting for us, but pastor is not one of them.
Patience is an Underrated Virtue
I was sitting in a conference of fellow Pastors earlier this year. It was a good conference, full of plenty of admirable stuff. Beyond that many of my friends where there and all of our staff. Now let me say I believe the Pastors and leaders in charge of this conference are doing great things for the kingdom of God, and are really nice, humble guys to boot. But I just couldn’t help squirming in my seat. If what they are saying and what I was coming to believe were represented by a geometrical shape it would look like a right angle. Two perpendicular lines slamming into each other, each heading off in seemingly opposite trajectories.
Everything in their system was built on speed. Do everything faster, replicate with greater rapidity, addition was too slow we had to pursue multiplication, and we had to move beyond simple multiplicational to an exponential explosion of the Gospel. As I listened I pictured the Death Star after a photon torpedo to its exhaust shaft. (I give myself a bonus point for every Star Wars reference.) The way to reach this explosion was to find only the best leaders. The top 5%. Invest in them, and while no one said I wondered if we were supposed to ignore the 95%. Beyond that the way you measured a leader’s success was if they could follow this explosive model. A good leader does stuff fast. And I get it. There is an urgency to the Gospel, there is a need to move fast, be nimble, multiply. This is something I want to see in Crossbrigde. But I still squirmed.
Everything in me felt like God was asking me to be patient. To learnt he art of the slow. To be comfortable if the world did not conform to my timelines.
Jesus picked fishermen, and as it turned out they were the top 5% of leaders. But Jesus could see people’s heart in a way that I cannot. I do a really bad job sometimes determining who is a leader and who is not. I do a really bad job sometimes telling which soil is good and which solid is bad. Beyond that I felt like God is correcting my addiction to speed. Before stepping into the role of Lead Pastor I wanted everything instantaneously. If we were moving slow, we obviously weren’t in line with God. If we weren’t experiencing exponential growth we just weren’t within God’s will and God wasn’t blessing us.
It’s ironic because most Pastor’s I know utterly abhor the health and wealth Gospel, and yet we measure our success (and God’s blessing) in very similar terms. If you are growing it’s because you’re doing something right and God loves you more. This isn’t a defense that small is better, or that dying Churches are the holiest ones. I am simply asserting that we can’t assume God is with something just because we see external circumstances that coincide with our definition of success. There are season of patience, and seasons of rapid growth. Season of pruning and seasons of harvest. And not everyone who claims to be doing the things of God actually is.
God has been repeatedly teaching me the value of patience. Many of us know that patience is a fruit of the spirit as peace. I’ll write more about peace later, but I think that our lack of patience robs us of much of the peace that God intends for our lives. We don’t have to change everything overnight. Small steps toward a preferable goal are ok. We shouldn’t write people off or ignore people because they don’t respond in what we consider a timely manner. So much of what I see admirable in the missional movement is in a patient love, non-manipulative love of people. I’m not saying that what I heard at that conference was out of line with this idea and I have no interest in setting up a false dichotomy, but something about the worship of speed was out of line with what I had been experiencing. I believe right now I am moving, and Crossbridge is moving, in a positive, God-honoring direction, but it isn’t the model that I hear most loudly praised. God is breaking me of my addiction to speed, my addiction to the instant and the easy. And that’s ok.
I go back to my newly discovered favorite quote from Eugene Peterson, what I am seeking is “a long obedience in the same direction.” (Actually Peterson stole it from Nietzsche, but I love the use he has put it to.) It’s ok to at times be patient. To not define success by how busy we are. There is another path. If we are in line with God’s will we don’t have to force or manipulate the movement of the Spirit. When it moves fast we sprint alongside. When it moves slow we patiently wait. Lord simply give us the wisdom to know which is which.
