Maelstrom

I’m still on vacation.  This is my last winter break as an undergrad.  It’s nice being back in my parent’s house.  I recognize that I’m teetering with all zeal on the edge of my future.  It’s almost time for me to “join the ranks”, as “they” say.  That said, my mind has been restless for weeks.  My head is a dark and spooky hornets’ nest, buzzing and moaning with idea after idea.

This is an opportune moment for me.  I will never have more free time than I do now.  I’m still in the cradle, as it were.  And before I shed the swaddling cloths of higher education and plunge headfirst into independent living, I could knock out certain nagging ambitions.  Don’t misunderstand, I can’t wait to get out of school and start working and learning and living and cultivating.  But for now, I mustn’t be wasteful.  The iron’s hot and I’ve been working on my swing.

Believe it or don’t, but I have some “book” ideas in my head.  They’re more like little writing projects.  I feel like they’re all suppressed under the thick weight of my skull and if I can just flesh them out into words, I might be relieved by some breathless shots of clarity.  It would be a huge relief to get these things off my heart.

First prospect: a catechism.  Nobody panic.  Catechisms have gotten a bad name among evangelicals because they smack of dead formalism and overly pious religious systems.  But I’ve been listening to guys like J.I. Packer and Michael Horton who seem to believe that catechisms are essential to the vitality of the church.

When most people think of catechisms, they usually think of the Westminster or the Heidelberg or some particular Q & A invented by a more particular tradition.  I think these are wonderful.  But here’s my main problem with these documents: they wrote them at specific times to specific people for specific situations, none of which are entirely relevant to the context of the American Church today.

I think one of the most glaring deficiencies in our churches is a lack of the transcendent. We have grown so accustomed to banality and mediocrity in our faith that we’ve lost all sight of the biblical, dangerous, infinite Yahweh.  So, I think a catechism has to be written that will extinguish indifference in the heart and ignite, in its place, an alert awareness of the sublime preeminence of God.

The other reason I feel a modern-day catechism must be written is that the pieces I’m aware of don’t address the particular needs of a postmodern people in a postmodern country.  Take the Westminster Catechism, for example.  It has brought me to tears and repentance many times.  But it was written in the 1640s to bring the Anglican Church into greater theological unity with the Scottish Christians and the Reformed brethren in Europe during the English Civil War.  That is not our situation here and now in America.  We need a catechism that is contextualized for our culture and times.  So, that is stirring in my heart and head and it will be pursued (Prov.14:23).

The second writing project is nothing more that a seed in my head right now.  I already have a tentative title in mind.  I want to organize and expound upon the wrath and justice of God in the Old and New Testaments.  It’s a subject that is avoided for many reasons, fear and shame being at the top of the list.  I’ve had many great conversations about the nature and necessity of wrath and fire and purging and death and how God uses them all.  I feel it is a severe reality that is an essential part of the true Gospel and it must be understood if any compassion and urgency is to be felt to love the lost and share the truth of Christ.

So, that’s all that I’m up to.  A couple of writing ideas and a lot of free time.  Please pray for clarity and sharpening as I try to figure out what these things will look like.  I love you all.  Shalom.

More & More

The idea of progress is huge in biblical Christianity.  Paul taught Timothy to make progress in his beliefs and in his conduct (1 Tim.4:15).  Paul described himself as pressing on (Phil.3:14).  Brother Lawrence, that old, toilet-cleaning monk, said that “not to advance is to fall back.”  As Proverbs 4:18 declares, “the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day.”  If Christians stand still, we die slowly and quietly.  Like sharks?

But what should be clear to all of us is that our eyes are never satisfied (Prov.27:20).  Humans always want more and more.  We are deep cravings sculpted out of the dust.  This is because God has created us for himself, to find ultimate fulfillment and pleasure in himself.  That was the original intent.  Sin has shattered this paradigm and, as a result, we are constantly seeking refreshment from the commode rather than from the wellsprings.  We always desire.  And that is good.  But our happiness hinges on the target of that desire.

We want more and more.  But if true human happiness is found in God (and Scripture teaches that it is (Ps.16:5-11; Ps.73:25; Isa.12:2; Luke 2:10; Phil.4:4; Rev.21:3-4)), then it is in him that we must cultivate this principle of more and more.  Where I see this most beautifully (at this point in my life) is in 1 Thessalonians 4.

In 4:1, Paul tells them to life to please God and to do so more and more.  In verses nine through ten of the same chapter, he tells the people of Thessalonica to love one another more and more.  This is like the next two weeks after Thanksgiving at my parents’ house.  It’s glorious.  So much pumpkin pie.  The sweet potatoes just keep coming, more and more.

If you want a few instances where the same word is used in the New Testament, here you go:

Mat.14:20; Matt.15:37; Lk.19:17- leftover bread

2 Cor.8:7- “as you excel in everything”

2 Cor.9:8- “grace overflow”

Eph.1:8- “grace lavished on us”

Phil. 1:9- “love may abound even more and more”

So, in 1 Thess.4:1, we are to please God in our lives more and more and in 4:10 we are to love one another more and more.  Perhaps it is for this reason that the poets begged, “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love that we may rejoice and be glad all our days” (Ps.90:14).  Maybe it is all as C.S. Lewis observed,

“Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

Henry David Thoreau once camped out by a pond on his buddy’s land and wrote about civil disobedience in a book titled Walden.  I, for one, wouldn’t try this method of finding inspiration.  Way too many mosquitoes.  But in that book, he said that “most men live lives of quiet desperation“.

But after reading through the psalms, seeing the longings and hedonism of those poets and songwriters, those men who understood what warfare was, I cannot agree with Mr. Thoreau.  I would boldly submit to you that all men who live lives of quiet desperation are simply not real men.  They do not understand what true desperation is!  They do not see that true desperation is the natural result of seeing one’s own inadequate longings juxtaposed with the infinite beauty and pleasure of Jesus Christ.  No desperation born out of such a realization is ever quiet.

More and more, my friends.  Keep on desiring.  Keep your desperation hot.  God, help us.

Observations on the Tenth of December

I have a sort of “down with the ship” mentality when it comes to taking out the trash.  Melodramatic?  Oh, no.  Our front porch is a solid piece of heartless stone and it loves to wait until I’m barefoot, laden with trash bags, to drop its surface temperature down to twenty degrees.  And since the trashcan usually piles up enough during the week to resemble a small fortress, I have to take several trips to the front porch to lean over the railing and dump trash into the bins.  Needless to say, all the blood in my soles is turned into cherry slush.  You could not squeeze a tear of sympathy from our front porch in the winter.  Perhaps I should just wear socks when I take out the trash.  But then I’d track in all the stray leaves.

And all the while that unconvincing blue sky stares down at us.  Somewhere, beyond sight or interest, hangs a shivering sun.  If I search hard enough, I can find it.  It’s usually slinking around the treetops or smoking with some clouds behind the middle school.  And while it plays hooky, we grow colder.  Shy ghosts form at our mouths.  The water in my car’s floorboard freezes overnight.  We wear sunglasses above the protective folds of our scarves.  But in all of this winter, where is the wonderland?

Like a sort of cursed Narnia, it seems north Texas has found itself in a bitter cold without a pretty snow.  It is a terrible waste of December, if you ask me.  To go this long into the end of the year without seeing an inch on the ground?  What sin have we committed?

Blame this on my introspective nature.  When I walk through this cold weather without a pinch of powder, I’m reminded of insincerity.  At the risk of being blunt, all cold and no snow is the seasonal equivalent of all smiles and no love.  I seem to recall an old Jewish man telling our love to be genuine, without hypocrisy.  I recall how the old poet writes, “simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.”

Maybe social hypocrisy is as cruel as a winter without snow.

When God Breaks Bones

If you don’t know, Matt Chandler, teaching pastor at the Village Church in Dallas, underwent brain surgery this past Friday.  Matt is now out of the ICU and is recovering.  Watch the video he left to his church before he went into the operating room. 

Now, this terrible heartache has caused a lot of people around the DFW area to ponder why this thing happened to Matt.  For me, it’s brought to mind something I had wrestled with a few months ago.  It’s something I still am coming to grips with, in all honesty.

I’ve never heard a sermon on Psalm 88.  Ask me why.  It’s because Psalm 88 is a abysmal dirge filled with one man’s desperate screams for relief from pain.  It’s not a warm text.  You don’t feel good when you close the pages.  There is no sunshine at the end of this psalm.  It’s unique in the Hebrew hymnbook that way.

But what really gets me about Psalm 88 isn’t merely the way in which the poet writes about his pain and sorrow.  What gets me is that the poet says that God is the author of his pain and sorrow.  Follow me here:

• God put him in the pit (verse 6)
• God laid His wrath heavily on the poet (verse 7)
• God overwhelmed him (verse 7)
• God made his companions shun him (verse 8 )
• God made him a horror to his friends (verse 8 )
• God threw his soul away and seemed to reject him (verse 14)
• God swept His wrath over the poet (verse 16)
• God assaulted him dreadfully (verse 16)
• God caused those whom the poet loved to shun him (verse 18)

This is what it looks like when God breaks bones (see Psalm 51:8).

The question is, what do we do with this text?  I would encourage you to read it in its entirety.  It’s only eighteen verses.  Here is a God who purposefully causes unthinkable pain to fall upon a man whom He has called His own (88:1).  We have to ask with Job, “Shall we receive good from God and shall we not receive evil?”  I believe that is what it comes down to.

In Hebrew, the word for good (טוֹב, tov) refers to that which is a benefit to life.  It is what makes life easier and more pleasant.  The Hebrew word for evil (רַע, rah) is that which brings heartache and calamity into one’s life.  It is that which destroys and decays life.  So, God gives life and God takes away life (Job 1:21).  God causes brains to function normally and God causes brains to develop tumors.  And Scripture tells us that God cause both to work together for His own purpose (Ephesians 1:11).

The point of Psalm 88 is that faith can be real even when prayers do nothing.  Even when comfort is gone and there is no light at the end, hope can live.  The poet pleaded to God “day and night” (v.1), “every day” (v.9), and “in the morning” (v.13).  His faith was in the God of his salvation (verse 1).  This psalm tells us that even when our bones are breaking, God will soon make those bones rejoice (Ps.51:8).  Fear of abandonment and fear of death can even hit those whom the Lord loves.  But in all of this, faith can be real.  It is with this truth that we must wrestle and it is in this God that we trust.  For He is good.

The Culture and the World

I feel like some sort of rough draft of Samson these days: all hair and no muscle.  I’m not sure if it’s officially a mullet yet.  The judges are still debating.  In any case, most days I just wear a beanie.  I suspect I look more ridiculous than I’m comfortable with believing.

I’m attempting to update this blog with some semblance of regularity.  I’m aware that a lot blogs go under simply because there’s no timely pattern of publishing, no expectations held by writer or reader(s).  But here’s one Nazarite that won’t go quietly without bringing the temple down on everyone else.

I love culture.  I’ll just say it.  I find it to a wonderful thing.  But I think a definition must be called in here lest the brethren rend me asunder for “loving the world”.  When I say culture, I am referring to the combination of the arts, media, and entertainment.  And I think the arts, media, and entertainment are all wonderful things.  Fairly innocuous, right?  Most humans would agree.  Why even bring this up?

I’m afraid Christians tend  to confuse the terms when it comes to this subject.  I hear so many Christians denounce the evils of our culture (I’m speaking here primarily of American culture as a whole).  They thunder on about how our culture is so godless and antithetical to the Lord of the Bible.  I’m sure their tirades are born out of a passion for the Jesus’ glory.  I merely wonder if they’re aiming that zeal in the right direction.

I don’t think it’s the culture that is fallen and depraved.  The arts and media are, in and of themselves, morally neutral.  I think Christians fear culture mainly because they see it as an evil invention, crafted in the deep darkness of hell.  I think they fear culture because culture is in the world and so many people who don’t love Jesus are vocal contributors to that culture.  Ah, but here’s the rub!

I humbly submit to you that culture is nothing more than a tool that is utilized by a group of people.  The components of culture may be constructed by people but that does not make said components evil (albeit imperfect, perhaps).  Culture is no more evil than a gun is evil.  A gun can be used for evil but a gun is not an evil thing.  It is the use that matters.

Understand this, please.  The culture is not the same as the world.  In Scripture, loving the world is sin for Christians (2 Tim.4:10; James 4:4; 1 John 2:15).  But what does Scripture mean when it talks about not loving “the world”.  The Greek word predominantly used is kosmos.  As I understand it, this word is used in these texts to refer to the inhabitants of the world that are opposed to God.  It is used to denote the worldview that values any and all created things above the one true Creator.  That is the world.  That is what we are forbidden to love.  To be a friend to such a system, as James says, is to hate God.

So, that’s what Scripture is talking about when it forbids a love of the world.  But I think Christians go beyond this.  I think they inflate this definition.  Now we’ve come full circle.  Christians tend to lump culture into the world and see culture as anti-God and a product of the fall and much other nonsense.   But culture is not to be feared.  I’m a big believer that the only thing a Christian has to fear is sin (and remember, we’re never commanded to fear the world).  Hear me, my friends.  Culture can be redeemed.

Mark Driscoll, a pastor in Seattle, makes a great point about culture.  He likens culture to the loudspeakers and the world to the music.  Christians don’t like the music and so they try and take out the loudspeakers.  But they’ve done nothing to change the music.  The music was what was conveying the message.  The loudspeakers were merely the neutral conduit for the message.

You see what I’m getting at.  Books have been written about how (and if) culture can be redeemed and utilized for the sake of the gospel and it’s not my purpose here to write about that.  That may come later but for now, I’m pleading that Christians stop attacking the culture and work on loving the people in it.  I know it might seem like I’m just nitpicking, launching a semantic argument that may ultimately hit nothing but air.  But, to paraphrase Pastor Mark, when Christians throw rocks at the culture, they end up throwing rocks at the house that everyone lives in.  And that’s just rude.

Later On in Time

I’ve been thinking about time recently.   The scene from I.Q. where those old, German physicists are playing badminton and denying time’s existence with fuzzy logic?  I wish I had time to do that.  Such a great scene.  Oh, and just as an aside: this whole topic is completely pregnant with potential puns but I’m really going to try and restrain myself.  I just don’t have time.  Ok.

Last week I heard a man in church say something that was straight out of left field.  He was talking about a line from “Amazing Grace”: “when we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun“.  With a dismissive laugh, he announced to the entire room that such poetry is the artistry of the ignorant.  Surely, we will not be in the eternal state for ten thousand years!  In that place, there will be no time.  We will be timeless in eternity.  This was his passionate belief.

Now, I’ve no doubt that this gentleman is intelligent.  I’ve no reason to question his love for Jesus.  But to say that eternity will be timeless, and that we will be timeless there, is simply to read into Scripture what was never there to begin with.

Because it’s a very good place to start, let’s just start at the beginning.  Genesis 1:1, the first verse in the Bible, says that “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” Francis Schaeffer, that brilliant Presbyterian, was famous for saying this was one of the most (if not the most) important verse in the Bible.  In it, he observed, we have the creation of time, space, and matter.

It is important to understand that God created time, space, and matter (i.e. creation) out of nothing.  There was nothing but God before He created.  God is the only thing that existed prior to His creation of time.

This means that God is not a part of time.  God is timeless.  He is without time.  This monumental truth is seen most clearly in 1 Tim.6:16: “He alone possesses immortality and lives in unapproachable light, whom no human has ever seen or is able to see. To him be honor and eternal power! Amen.”

So, God is timeless.  If you’ve made it this far, high five.  But look again at that verse.  God alone possess immortality.  So, if God alone possesses timelessness, where did Christians (including the gentleman I was talking about) get the concept that we too will be timeless in eternity?

I believe this probably comes from a misunderstanding of Revelation 10:6 which says, “And swear by him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer”.  Sounds pretty epic, doesn’t it?  That’s because it’s the King James translation.  Beautiful writing, really.

So, that settles it, right?  It says right there in Revelation 10:6 “that there should be time no longer.”  Time will one day serve its purpose and be done away with by the Lord who created it.  Let’s not jump that gun too quickly.  There’s a reason I quoted the verse in the King’s English.

Now, here I’m going to steal directly from a man who knows New Testament Greek (C. Michael Patton) because I simply can’t read the stuff yet.

“The phrase, ‘that there should be time no longer,’ translates the Greek, hoti chronos ouketi estai. Literally, it is ‘that time no longer is.’ In the context, the seventh Angel has just revealed the seven voices of thunder (which John was instructed to seal up). The events that follow show the angel bringing this stage of the tribulation to completion. The idea behind ‘time is no longer’ is that the duration has run its course. ‘Time is up,’ the angel declares, ‘Its over.’”

He then conveniently lines up the verse in a myriad of different Bible translations.  Check this out.

ESV Revelation 10:6 – and swore by him who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and what is in it, the earth and what is in it, and the sea and what is in it, that there would be no more delay

NAB Revelation 10:6 – and swore by the one who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and earth and sea and all that is in them, “There shall be no more delay.

NAS Revelation 10:6 – and swore by Him who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and the things in it, and the earth and the things in it, and the sea and the things in it, that there shall be delay no longer,

NAU Revelation 10:6 – and swore by Him who lives forever and ever, WHO CREATED HEAVEN AND THE THINGS IN IT, AND THE EARTH AND THE THINGS IN IT, AND THE SEA AND THE THINGS IN IT, that there will be delay no longer,

NET Revelation 10:6 – and swore by the one who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and what is in it, and the earth and what is in it, and the sea and what is in it, “There will be no more delay!

NIV Revelation 10:6 – And he swore by him who lives for ever and ever, who created the heavens and all that is in them, the earth and all that is in it, and the sea and all that is in it, and said, “There will be no more delay!

NJB Revelation 10:6 – and swore by him who lives for ever and ever, and made heaven and all that it contains, and earth and all it contains, and the sea and all it contains, ‘The time of waiting is over;

NLT Revelation 10:6 – He swore an oath in the name of the one who lives forever and ever, who created the heavens and everything in them, the earth and everything in it, and the sea and everything in it. He said, “There will be no more delay.

TNIV Revelation 10:6 – And he swore by him who lives for ever and ever, who created the heavens and all that is in them, the earth and all that is in it, and the sea and all that is in it, and said, “There will be no more delay!

Neat, huh?  So, it would seem that the only translation that accidentally kills time is the KJV.  As Paul says in 1 Timothy 6:16, God alone is timeless and God is alone in His uniqueness.  The reason we will never be timeless is that we will never be God.  Simply because God is timeless, that does not give His creation (people or the new heaven and earth) the same characteristic.

New Pages

My friends, I’m losing the war with time this week.  Those of you still in school can feel my pain.  Midterms are hunting for heads and there just aren’t enough hours in the day to barricade all the doors.  So what am I doing writing a blog when I could be using my time wisely?  I would think the answer was obvious.  I’m being bad.

I tried to pick up a caterpillar today.  He was walking down the middle of the sidewalk.  My rescue attempt was rewarded with a viscus, green substance all over my index finger.  Some defense.  I gently put him back onto the concrete and marveled at my luck.  He probably smirked as he inched towards the grass between the road and the sidewalk.  Rascal.

I finished my moleskine today.  It wasn’t this massive sense of accomplishment, but it felt good.  I’d spent over a year filling that notebook with my thoughts (I write in random spurts of desperation).  It’s a shameful read, looking back over those faintly yellow pages.  Judging by my handwriting, I’m mostly six years old.  There are a lot of scratches that aim for poetry.  There are a lot of unorganized, sloppy notes on various Bible verses.  Rantings and ravings, charts and half-baked lyrics, fragments of a language I thought about starting (it’s just tweaked Igpay Atinlay). It’s a book full of table scraps from my life.

Do you know what I’ve decided after skipping like a stone over those pages?  I don’t recognize myself.  If that paper was glass, the voice staring back at me has changed like wine.  Perhaps I’m worse.  Perhaps I’m better.  Maybe there are shades of success and decay no matter the angle.  But I’m different.  A  whole calendar has beaten me like a dead horse and I thank God I’ve not become some lumpy mound of glue.

That’s all this is.  Just thinking out loud and pondering change.  Time to start a new notebook.

The Little Gods of the Church

When I was a young church mouse, I sat in the pew as our pastor spoke against idols.  He would tell us that idols were not limited to the carved statues we read about in the Old Testament.  From behind that suit and pulpit, he would warn us that idols could be whatever thing we placed above God as supremely important in our lives.  It was so hard to sit still in those pews.

Now, before we move on, let’s be clear.  I didn’t care about idols at the time.  I didn’t care about anything he said.  But through the years, I’ve somehow retained small fragments of his list of subtle gods.  Sports…education…family…careers…girlfriends and boyfriends…ice cream…

When Jesus Christ changed me from a church mouse into a man (a common fairy tale in the Scriptures), I was shocked to discover that our old pastor had been telling the truth!  All this time, I had been a Canaanite leaving out fruit for those demons to eat.  Liberation is an ongoing process and grace is ferocious.  I constantly have to snap the necks of the gods in my life.

That being said, I’ve been thinking more about idols and the dark corners they live in.  In thinking, an uncomfortable truth has bubbled up to the surface.  Those dark things live and breathe in every church that dots this earth.  They’re simply camouflaged.  They’re snakes dressed up in the skin of angels.

And they have to disguise themselves.  If they didn’t, we would denounce them before they could whisper in our ears.  Money?  Sex?  T.V?  Such idols are far too “worldly” to go unnoticed in our evangelical culture.  They’re too jagged and toxic to lure us in without a fight.  So the devil, brilliant strategist that he is, has perverted the things near and dear to the church’s heart.  He doesn’t bother to batter down the gates.  He merely dresses up as the things we love.

Christian idols are always disguised as honoring to God.  Here are some of the big ones I’ve noticed: apologetics, right wing politics, “Christian music”, prayer journals, ministry, the idea of a Christian nation, our devotions (which aren’t usually very devoted), and our own appearance as a good Christian.  The list rattles on and changes according to whatever soil a certain church is planted in.  I’m just going to punch a few of them in the throat right here and leave you to ponder the rest and respond if you wish.  I truly love hearing from you.

A Christian Nation

There are some people who love Jesus and hate the Republican Party.  There are some people who love Jesus and hate the Democratic Party.  This is fair because Jesus doesn’t fit into a political party.  When we try and force Him to wear our buttons and endorse our slogans, we start to drown in foolishness.  Nevertheless, there are some out there who remained convinced that America was once a Christian nation.  They are passionate about returning our country to that status.  Their Christianity has become nothing more than a vehicle for such change.

But didn’t we already witness a historical experiment in theocracy?  Didn’t we already see a country where the executive branch (the kings) made the Bible the law of the land? Weren’t the Ten Commandments hanging in their courthouse (so to speak)?

Yet which prophet had anything good to say about Israel?  Which prophet did Israel not kill? If a “Christian nation” didn’t work out then and there, where the Lord Himself set it up, why do we persist in the idea that it will work now in America, where God has not instituted such a system?  The pursuit seems to be an utterly fruitless crusade.  And it is a crusade that shrinks God down into a policy.  It is an idol.

Our Devotions

I refrain calling them “quite times” because, honestly, it reminds me of taking naps in kindergarten.  But what I’m talking about is the spiritual discipline of a Christian getting alone to talk to God and dwell in the Scriptures.  It’s a beautiful thing.  But it too is in danger of perversion.  Our time alone with Jesus becomes an idol when we become performers and dealers.

We look at our devotions and we make them as sincere as possible (God knows we hate to be legalists) and we feel that if we are devout, then God must love us.  If we are truly obedient and joyfully following Him, then He will love us.  It turns us into performers who are solely concerned with holy living to secure love.  Our best attempts to be real with God can become nothing more than paper thin legalism.

Or we go into it quite honestly to get something out of God.  We assume that if we take the time every day to spend time with God, then He is duty bound to bless us.  We deal out a solid quite time each day and, in return, God must become our slave.  But God cannot function as a slave.  It’s against His very nature.  And the dealers, too, become just as idolatrous.

Our devotions can simply become a means to an end.  We make sincere (and insincere) time with God into a golden goose, either to get the love we crave or the blessings we feel we deserve.

Christian Music

I’ll go ahead and call this “Christian music” as well.  Some Christians who are more culturally oriented make a big deal out of the music they listen to.  They feel that the only type of music a Christian should listen to is Christian music.  I can’t help but wonder if they exclusively wear Christian shoes and eat Christian toast.  They label all secular music as sinful.

The problem here is that the nature of music excludes regeneration.  In other words, music doesn’t have a soul that can be saved.  Jesus did not die for music.  Music cannot become “Christian”.  It is an amoral thing, neither good nor evil.

Now, to be fair, I know what folks mean when they talk about Christian music.  They’re referring (in most cases) simply to the lyrics.  They have in mind the JPS levels of the music.  For those who aren’t clear on this, the JPS level is simply the Jesus Per Song level.  It’s the frequency at which the name Jesus is mentioned in each song.  A high JPS level means it is Christian.  A low level means that it is secular and bad.  There are many problems with this perspective.  But that’s for another entry.

The point is, regardless of whether the existence of Christian music is dangerous, holy or a little of both, the attention it commands easily turns it into an idol.  And Christian music is just an ambassador for the whole of the evangelical subculture.  If it isn’t branded with a cross, it somehow becomes unclean.  Again, understand me.  I’m not anti-Christian music.  I dearly love those people who listen to it.  What I have a problem with is when they elevate the Christian subculture above the actual person of Jesus.  To these folks, I plead with you: take your eyes off your merchandise and fix them back on Jesus.

Much more could be said.  I’m sure that much more will be said.  But for now, I suppose that some things will have to remain unsaid.  I am suggesting that we all start examining ourselves in the church.

We already know the dangers that are in the world.  Preachers have been shouting about them for centuries.  What we need to do is look inwardly and sniff out the snakes that sing like angels.  If we do not, they will poison us and our souls will quietly bleed to death.

The Magic That We Love

When I was young, Mom used to take me on errands. She’d take me to the grocery store and we’d walk across that vast parking lot, stopping occasionally to refill our canteens and give the horses a rest. But eventually, we’d reach the doors of the store. We’d reach those automatic doors. We’d reach those automatic, magic doors. Now, a magic door is one of life’s simple pleasures when you’re five. But a magic door that obeys your command? Such things should be illegal when you’re that young. And I would refuse to let my mom into the store until I had intoned the ancient mantra: “open sesame”. Then those glass doors would slide apart, I would pump my chubby fist in the air, and we would enter like conquerors, welcomed by a subservient gush of conditioned air.

Now that I’m older, I’m well aware that automatic, sliding doors don’t obey my command. Even though they’re magic, it turns out that they scatter their favors to every customer, regardless of age or authority. Despite this, I was impressed with a very real sense of control. I still remember what it feels like to have the authority over some elemental power that is greater than me, outside of me.

I feel this same sense of entitlement and authority is implemented recklessly within the church. The church wields its own flavor of magic. It’s hard to catch because it’s dressed up like a Precious Moments doll. It looks very innocent and it looks very holy and it’s as harmless as a cobra in a petting zoo.

The cobra that hisses loudest is “the Sinner’s Prayer”. I think this is the clearest example of sorcery in the church today. Do you know what I mean? Let me lay it out for you.

You’re in a church youth group. It’s a Wednesday night. Some folks have their shoes off. The carpet has been stained many times over by ice cream and coke. You are sitting five rows back in a phalanx of metal folding chairs, elbow to elbow with church kids of various heights. If you don’t know what a phalanx is, stop right now and look it up. It’ll be good for you. Anyway, there’s a man at the front of the phalanx waxing long and passionately with an open Bible flopped over his palm. Suddenly, he looks concernedly into the rows of blank stares. In a whisper, he orders us to bow our heads and close our eyes. He then tells us to repeat these words, silently and to ourselves: “God, I know that I am a sinner. I am truly sorry. I want to turn from my sins and trust in Jesus for the forgiveness of my sins. I invite Jesus to come into my heart and my life to become my Lord and Savior. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

The speaker then informs those who repeated his prayer that they are now saved and that they will go to heaven and that Jesus is now living in their heart.

Now, aside from making Jesus out to be some sort of cardiovascular parasite, these repeated words (if said earnestly) guarantee salvation.  Or at least, that’s what magic is supposed to do. The only problem with this is the Bible. There’s no mention of a sinner’s prayer in the Bible. And there’s certainly no evidence that the sovereign Lord, who is a law unto himself, is compelled, like a genie, to deal out eternal life because someone said a formula.

So, what is this? It is pure conjuring. It’s calling down a supernatural force by the means of a spell. The Sinner’s Prayer is nothing more than an incantation. Nowhere in the Bible do we find a set of certain words that arm wrestle the omnipotent Lord into dispensing salvation to the speaker. But for decades, Christians have chanted a spell to command the God of the universe to claim eternal life. Perhaps we should stop trusting in religious magic and start trusting in Jesus. Take a hard, long look into the Scriptures and look at how and why God extends salvation. Stick your head under those waters and see if you don’t come back up gasping for truth. Let me know how it goes so we can compare notes.

Misc.

This sweltering dirt patch of beauty is called north Texas. It’s beautiful, dirty and patchy. It swelters frequently until mid-October and the sidewalks don’t ever seem to stop in my neighborhood. They wind and whine and tell long stories. The sidewalk that wraps around the corner where our house tilts is one of the more talkative ones. You walk on it and it just begins to tell you its life story. It tells it every day and the story never changes. Every day, each step reveals the exact same plot. So, I rely on the scenery to keep things fresh. Yesterday, I saw a beagle taking an old man for a walk. We have fun.

One of the beautiful things about being a Christian means that I can’t help but see the world through the reality of Scripture. This is monumentally liberating. It means that I don’t have to write this blog based on the number of times I say the name “Jesus”. I don’t have to write about Christian things. But rather, I’m a Christian free to write about all things. Because I see this world according to the reality that God set up in Scripture. So, I see all the gifts of common grace. I see all the pictures of Christ’s death and God’s sovereignty. I see the clinging flavors of a twisted fairy tale and I see the beauties of realized humanity. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Time and chance overtake us all. God crowns the year with bounty and strips it bear the next time around. And He is completely just, even in this sweltering dirt patch. He makes me glad with things and people. He makes me glad with what He has created (Ps.92:4). How can I not take full advantage of that? All that He has made to enjoy is mine to enjoy. Pastors really should be teachers of hedonism.

Does anyone else smile when autumn suffocates summer? A season of death, decay, and very classy entropy slowly closes its hand around the throat of popsicles and fireworks. I picture autumn as a mummy wearing a very nice scarf. And it has glowing eyes and mist for breath. It’s probably not ironic but it’s immensely interesting to me.

There’s a dead wasp in the back room of our house. Our house is kind of a funhouse with its uneven floors and the slight chance that it all might collapse if you step on it wrong. And as in every funhouse, there’s an element of terror. I’m of the opinion that if an insect flies and it stings, then it is pure evil. Wasps, bees, yellow jackets (and all other members of their brotherhood) have terrorized me since childhood. So, when I found the husky corpse of a wasp behind the blinds, I want you to understand the sentiments running through my mind. It’s still a danger. Its abdomen is outfitted with a cold sword that is just waiting to cut me. Should I touch it? Should I flush it? Dare I? Or should I revel in its demise? After all, here is a powerless, lifeless representative of the enemies of my happiness. I’m tempted to gloat in the impotence that lies there, collecting dust and forgotten by time.

But then I wonder if his hive mourns him. Did they send a folded flag to his widow? Was he simply declared M.I.A.? How in the world did he even get behind our blinds? God saw it. God was well aware. Worth a ponder.

So, I have no “teaching points” here. This is mostly a therapeutic vomiting of what I’ve been thinking about recently. Feel free to put a towel over it.

Parting shot: did you know that 75% of the Bible’s content is historical narrative? Three fourths of the Holy Scriptures is story. Do you think that content is well reflected in the content of the sermons we hear?

On deck (but not in order):

1.) Soon, I’m going to start writing a bit about the Christian magic that we wield within the church. It’s probably not what you think. But it might be. At any rate, I tingle with anticipation.

2.) I’m going to look at the music of Bach and the lyrics of David and tamper with their respective outputs. Whether you walk away with my opinion that music flows through Bach like an hourglass (as time does with Jesus’ birth), I won’t lose sleep. I just think it’s neat.

3.) I plan to write a little about the gods of the church. Christians have a lot of little altars that we love to sacrifice on.