A Piece of Kake

My heart is heavy as I write, but at the same time it is buoyed up by God’s Word and His work in our midst. Although we were saddened by the signage outside CT, how much greater is the joy of two salvations in one week!

Blogging about persecution is all the rage, so I’ll piggyback off Tom’s, Dar’s, and Joe’s recent blogs. I have a few anecdotes to add, but mostly I want to suggest specific ways we can learn to handle to persecution faithfully and graciously.

First I want to share my experiences with the limitation of Christian free speech, which I would not call persecution, but which illustrate the anti-Christian atmosphere in the education system. I taught British literature and the textbook included an excerpt from the King James Bible. The parable of the prodigal son appeared along with offerings from other sacred texts, which had nothing to do with British lit. I was excited about the opportunity to teach the prodigal son since it’s a beautiful picture of God’s grace. When the kids opened their books to it, they asked, “Are we allowed to read this?” and “Can we talk about God?” The latter question came up throughout the year when there was a connection between their reading and a spiritual topic. I assured them of our right to free speech, and pointed out the parable was in the textbook, after all.

Another instance occurred in the teacher work room (the new name for the teacher’s lounge) between two teachers who often touted their liberal beliefs.

The teacher work room replaced the teacher's lounge.

The conversation went something like this:
“One of the juniors I had in government was driving me crazy today. I wish she could just go to study hall.”
“What was she doing?”
“She wanted me to come to her church fundraiser.”
The teacher’s eyes rolled. “They just don’t understand that not everyone’s interested in supporting that stuff.”
“I know. I told her no and she didn’t understand. I wanted to say, ‘Your church is nice for you, but not everyone wants to be a part of your religion.’”
“These Christians are just so clueless. They think everyone should believe as they do and worship their judgmental God. It’s so intolerant.”
“Yeah, I’ve had kids ask me to sponsor missions trips and all kinds of crap like that. Why would I want to support you going to proselytize in someone else’s culture?”
“Exactly.”
Intolerant, huh? These politically correct, Democratic educators wouldn’t speak about Jews, Muslims, blacks, or Asians that way, but they saw nothing wrong with cursing Christians in the presence of others who might (and do) follow Christ. Argument seemed fruitless so I remained quiet, but I wish they knew they insulted me under the banner of tolerance.

Second, I wanted to comment on Dar’s balanced view of American Christian persecution. We don’t suffer like those in many countries, where conversion to Christianity is a crime. But certainly we experience a degree of oppression, especially in the free speech arena. I think we need to learn about the consequences other believers face by signing up for Voice of the Martyrs free monthly newsletter. You also get a free book, Tortured for Christ, when you sign up at persecution.org. Here’s why I think everyone should receive and read these newsletters:

Voice of the Martyrs Logo

1. We should be aware of what global persecution looks like to get a perspective on our own suffering.

2. We should pray for these fellow believers who are facing dire circumstances. Our prayers can help them to be released from jail and/or torture, comfort them in their suffering, and increase their spiritual fruit. We should just pray against persecution, but that they would remain faithful and that God will work powerfully through it.

3. We can learn so much from how they view and handle persecution. It is clear in many of the issues that Christians in other countries expect persecution and view it as completely normal. When they accept Christ they realize they will likely be beaten or imprisoned for their beliefs. And they truly “consider it all joy” despite the pain and suffering because they experience God’s love and often see more people come to know Jesus. They also pray faithfully for their persecutors, and some have been led to Christ.

Third, we need to learn what the Bible has to say about persecution. I suggest we not only become familiar with the theology of persecution, but also memorize a few verses about persecution and spiritual warfare. Dar’s blog included 1 Peter 4:1-19 and there’s a video of Keith’s recent teaching. There is almost an overwhelming amount of verses on the topic, but that just shows how normal persecution is and how important it is that we handle it correctly, as an opportunity for the gospel.

I want to share Ephesians 6:10-18 because we need to remember that our struggle is not against people—school principles, police officers, or angry parents—but Satan and his forces. Certainly the evil day is upon us and the devil’s schemes are against us. This passage reminds us to fight with righteousness, truth, faith, the gospel of salvation, the Word of God, and prayer. In a word, we battle with love:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.

Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand firm therefore, HAVING GIRDED YOUR LOINS WITH TRUTH, and HAVING PUT ON THE BREASTPLATE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, and having shod YOUR FEET WITH THE PREPARATION OF THE GOSPEL OF PEACE; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take THE HELMET OF SALVATION, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints.

My last suggestion about learning to handle persecution is to read books about missionaries. Many wrote first-hand accounts of the struggles they faced on the field. A few suggestions:

Watch this movie with a box of tissues nearby.

1. Evidence Not Seen by Darlene Deibler Rose. She was imprisoned and malnourished but clung to God, and He came through.

2. Through the Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot. It’s the first-hand account of the story depicted in the film End of the Spear and illustrates Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s statement that “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” Although written by a woman, this is not a “girly” book and includes many excerpts from the husbands’ journals about their flights over the Amazon jungles.

3. The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom. She wasn’t a missionary but this Dutch Christian hid Jews during the Holocaust and paid the price for opposing the Nazi Germany.

4. Secret Believers by Brother Andrew. This fictionalized compilation of true stories shows the conversions, growth, and persecution of Muslim Background Believers (MBBs). It’s an eye-opening look at what Muslims face when they come to Christ.

5. Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret by Dr. and Mrs. Howard Taylor, Hudson Taylor’s grandson and wife. He pioneered the Inland China missions movement of the 1800s and is the spiritual grandfather of the rapidly growing underground church movement in China. He experienced many obstacles in war-torn, third-world China and his diaries share the spiritual secret that kept him going.

6. The Peace Child by Don Richardson. He took his wife and young children to the Indonesian jungle to reach a cannibal tribe whose highest value was betrayal. The author will likely teach at the upcoming Perspectives course (perspectives.org).

There are many more books; please post other suggestions in the comments. Reading about these ordinary people who lived William Carey’s admonition to “expect great things from God; attempt great things for God” can give us the courage to enter with them into the “fellowship of Christ’s suffering” (Philippians 3:15).

By nature I’m inclined to follow the rules. My teenage rebellion was quiet, internal, and not against my parents or institutional authorities. Conformity seems like a good way to keep the peace. And “being good” seems easier than getting in trouble. So I grew into adulthood, with plenty of sin but little worldly rebellion. No sex, no drugs, only my father’s rock ‘n’ roll, and precious little fun of any other variety.

Then I went to college, decided to stop rebelling against God, and started attending a fellowship which is sometimes accused of being a cult. People smoked, cussed, had a beer after Bible study, and talked about radical grace. What’s more, they actually loved each other. They formed deep friendships, spent most of their evenings together, and spoke into each other’s lives. No wonder people thought such a tight-knit community of biblical love was cultish. It makes for a strange phenomenon in our individualistic society.

Vive la Revolution!

Out of the Mouths of Babes: Vive la Revolution!

While I still whisper in the library and stop at yellow lights, I’m learning that many rules are in fact made to be broken. So many orders are issued by The System in order to keep life running smoothly, with cold efficiency that avoids the messiness inherent in close community. For example, the rules of political correctness and so-called tolerance require that faith be a private matter. It is forbidden to ask an acquaintance about their spiritual beliefs and so risk offense! Such social rules keep people at an arm’s length, oiling the machine of The System.

In response, the American church has retreated into their sanctuaries, agreeing to follow the rules as the culture defines them. Instead of impacting the world around them, they dream up odd efforts like the “30-Day Leviticus Challenge” during which a congregation followed portions of the laws given to Israel in Leviticus. I’m assuming no one chose to sacrifice animals, but somehow they arbitrarily and individually selected specific rules and rituals to follow for a month (Christianity Today, August 2008). Spiritual disciplines represent a new set of Protestant ritualism. And major Christian magazines advertise cover topics like “Racing for Jesus: the inside story of NASCAR ministry and the spiritual of speed” and endlessly conjectured about “Election 2008: Whom will evangelicals choose?” Others create websites like “idontcelebrate.com” to protest the phrase “Happy Holidays.”

Here is my rebellion: I refuse to withdraw and spend my days in spiritually useless endeavors. The church should not have a vague and vapid presence in the world. Neither do we need to “reclaim the culture for Christ” by simply becoming more influential in politics and media. We need to rebel against The System and instead fight for The Kingdom. “And our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). In other words, we’re not fighting people, or the police, or the education system, or Washington D.C. or any other earthly institution. We’re supposed to fight against the lies and schemes of the devil and his System and his hold on human hearts.

Keith and I have been working on a little booklet about leaving the System and joining the Revolution that is God’s Kingdom. I can hardly wait for it to be ready. I hope lots of high school and college kids read it and see The System for what it is: slavery. I think they already sense that it’s a cold, hard System which doesn’t care about them. But the only useful rebellion is found in God’s love, grace, and truth. I hope they see this and accept freedom in Christ and join the Revolution!

I only wish the title was truer for me. Last night I traveled to Columbus to hear the great Ralph Ankeman teach a Love Ethics class. After Dar called to invite me I was so excited to see this legendary figure who counseled the venerable Katey Downs, who in turn helped disciple our fearless leader, Keith McCallum. What an example of real spiritual significance.

Dr. Ankeman, a medical student-turned-missionary who now practices biblical love therapy in a secular psych ward, did not disappoint. He began on a note of wonder: “How closely the gospel of Christ fits the way human beings are,” he reflected. His teaching, at once quirky, comical, and insightful, was brimming with stories and examples illustrating the application of biblical love rules. The rule that stood out the most to me is that “I can’t make you do anything, but I can tell you what lies within my power to do.” For example, I can’t make you stop neglecting your kids, but I can call child services, as painful as that might be for me.

Keith’s teaching was equally good, if somewhat shortened for the sake of time. He’s updated the material a bit to clarify the concepts of fences and gates. But I think he’s writing an article on it, so I’ll save the details for now. I’ll just say his teaching got me thinking about what God is showing me about other people. I tend to be very negative about, well, everything, and my negatively quickly escalates into judging others. “Why can’t they just get it together?” I wonder. Keith’s teaching offered an interesting possibility. Perhaps it’s my own heart that’s getting in the way of others’ growth.

What an odd, counter-intuitive thought. And it must be rightly understood. I can’t make anyone do anything, as stated above. But if I’m seeking to help someone, and yet judging them at the same time, is it not reasonable that God would withhold insight from me regarding the other person? If I’m seeking to motivate someone’s change for impure reasons, perhaps to bolster my reputation or just because her sin annoys me, it makes sense that God would not honor my efforts. But when I sincerely want to help that person only for her own sake, it then becomes safe for God to reveal her heart to me, thus showing me how to spur her on toward love and good deeds, as Hebrews 11:24 says.

I feel like God is showing me things about “what lies beneath the surface” of my old home church and my new cell group. I don’t know exactly what to do about it; no doubt my heart needs further purifying. But I did not sleep well after my return from Columbus. I felt like God was laying burden after burden upon me. I arose this morning feeling weighed down and a bit confused. What did God want me to do with all of it? My first response is to worry, and I set right to work with an ever-hardening knot in my stomach.

But I knew this wasn’t right, or pragmatically helpful. After all, Jesus said his yoke is easy and his burden is light. As I started to trust God one worry at a time, I realized God showed me these concerns not to weigh me down, but bring treacherous undercurrents to light. I know I’m not the only one with these insights, as many of them were gathered from conversations with others. I’m not special. I’m just convicted. And my practical nature is itching to do something about it, and there will be plenty of time for that. But I won’t know what to do unless my heart is right.

And that’s the last point I wanted to comment on. Of course with all the heart-clarifying, there will always be a measure of sin this side of paradise. God in his grace grants us revelation even in our imperfection. But the clearer the heart, the clearer our spiritual eyes: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

So I’ve been wrestling for some time with what to spend my time writing. Should I blog about my current thoughts, feelings, and convictions in my blog, where my audience is small but I can say whatever I want, however I want to? Should I try to establish myself as a “freelance writer,” which is what I tell strangers I am for lack of a better way to describe how I spend my days? Or should I pour my efforts into revising “Confessions of a First-year Teacher,” the short novel I drafted about my year as Mrs. Brooks?

Most recently I’ve focused on option B: freelancing. I’ve spent time researching Christian publications, scouring their writer’s guidelines, studying their archives, and trying to write articles on topics both I and fundies care about. The latter is a most daunting task. And even when I find an appropriate topic, I have to be careful about my tone, avoiding language that is too passionate or forceful.

But just shortly before I opted to focus on writing corny Christian articles, I did my first revision of the “Confessions.” It was fun, but what was the point? Will people ever actually read it—would anyone ever want to publish it? I don’t know much about novel-writing, I’ll admit, and perhaps it’s still too close to reality to be considered fiction in the first place. So I could research fiction-writing and try to adapt it, strengthening the plot with dramatic embellishments, and then figure out the whole publishing process and get rejected a million times. And I don’t think I’m being negative; I’m being realistic. So is it worth it, I wonder? Is it worth it to try to make a name in the world of contemporary fiction? Does the story even have enough spiritual fiber to justify such a use of my time? Perhaps, since gratitude is a major theme, along with not selling out to the world system. And it shows a few things, I hope, about the problems of education today. But I’m still not sure if it’s a worthwhile pursuit. Hopefully I’ll figure that out over time. Either way, it helped to get it out.

The point is, I haven’t known what to pursue so I’ve been bouncing back and forth between these not-very-significant options, all the while knowing that I want to write something of spiritual importance. Which I seem most likely to do on my blog because I have freedom there, but it won’t reach very many people. So when Keith suggested I help him write a little book to deal with what is wrong with the American church today and the underground revolution needed, I knew it was from the Lord. The plan is good for others because the goal is to spread the gospel and the relational, organic, grace-oriented model of church growth.

The plan is good for me because it will help me to break out of my writing confusion, which is really driving me to a creative block. I can think of topics to write about, but I haven’t really felt creative since high school. But I know it’s there. Back then it was present in poetry, music, dance, fiction, and film. During college it struggled for breath under a heap of literary analyses and lesson plans. Now the Christian mag how-to cookie cutter threatens to slice my inspiration into uniform shreds. But I’m not going to pack away my creativity a childhood toy, no longer useful for adult life.

And the reason I’m not going to box it up isn’t because I’m too good to write for Christian mags, or too bad to write a novel, or too egotistical to stick with blogging. The reason is, one night over ten years ago I told God I wanted to have a spiritual impact on people. “How can I take your grace to the whole world?” I asked Him. And He answered me the very next night, silently but clearly: “You must write.” I forgot about this for a long time, even after Neil (really, God) gave me the opportunity to write. I just remember this instance recently, but I still didn’t know what to do with it. Maybe the “Missions Possible” piece had something to do with it, I thought. But now the pieces are finally fitting together.

On Saturday I attended the Voice of the Martyrs Regional Conference, along with Michael, Charlotte, and Neil. I wanted to offer a quick review for those who didn’t make it.

As we pulled into the church driveway, cherub statues, Hallmark-style, greeted us followed by a circle drive and fountain. Charlotte commented that it looked like the home of a rich Italian family, while Neil started humming the Godfather theme. We were directed to a parking spot in the nearly empty parking lot by no less than three metrosexuals who looked like they warded Clay Aiken’s closet. Looking around I realized we were in the minority in our jeans. That’s how “Xenos” I’ve become—it didn’t even occur to me to dress up. Luckily I opted for flats instead of sneakers.

Next we entered the building through a long sun-room-hallway decorated in faux flora that must have been arranged by the church’s choir. The church I grew up in abandoned the choir in favor of a “worship team” and “praise band” circa 1993. But I barely had time to take in the angel wallpaper border and red plush pews before a gaggle of elderly ladies in antiquated pastel dresses took their place in the choir pews. (Where did they find those outfits? I don’t think such attire is even available at the thrift store anymore.) They were accompanied by balding men in short-sleeve white shirts and too-short ties, along with several very out of tune violins and a flute. “Why?” I couldn’t resist whispering to Charlotte. “Why doesn’t someone tell them?”

After half an hour of the choir singing, I was more ready than ever to hear the voice of the martyrs. Actually, I was ready to hear the voice of anything but the choir. But there was more. A quartet sang, followed by a soloist. Someone explained the schedule of the conference: we’d have “a song” (which really meant four songs), “a prayer,” and a speaker. I stared in disbelieve. But at least I knew what we were in for. I have nothing against music or hymns (provided they steer clear of false theology, such as the choir’s chant that we are “standing on holy ground”), but I felt like the choir was sabotaging the conference. I guess they think people like it. Maybe people do like it.

The first speaker was an American who works for Voice of the Martyrs. He quoted a lot of Scripture, mainly familiar passages about persecution in general and what the apostles experienced in specific. He didn’t have a good speaking voice and he sort of lisped, but he did a good job of getting his three main points across:

1. The Body of Christ still suffers today.
2. We are to remember them. (Heb. 13:3)
3. As we serve them, they serve us even more.

He said 200 million Christians face persecution in over forty countries today, and more Christians were killed for their faith in the twentieth century than any other period in history. His big application point about remembering and serving the persecuted church is to pray for them. It’s easier to pray when you have information and even specific people and ministries in mind, which is why the Voice of the Martyrs has a free monthly newsletter. Sign up at http://www.persecution.com/. He told stories from a number of countries and showed two videos of Christians being beaten and sentenced to jail for evangelistic activities. He also talked about forgiveness as crucial for the work of the persecuted church.

The second speaker was Mujahid El Masih from Pakistan. He grew up as a Muslim, taught straight from the Qur’an. He became a Christian in his twenties as a result of God’s pursuit and placing Christians in his life. God called him to evangelize and he obeyed, which led to suffering, but he persisted. He visited South Africa to speak. Eventually someone unwittingly gave the Pakistani government his name, in association with his activities, and he could not go back to Pakistan without being killed. He stayed in South Africa until he was going to be deported, when God miraculously provided visas and plane tickets to the U.S. for him and his family. He lives here since he cannot return to Pakistan or South Africa, but he continues to work in Pakistan through an organization he established. Last year those working for the organization baptized over 950 new believers there. Through his testimony he preached about total commitment to God, how God is always with us, even in the worst circumstances, and how suffering stretches us so we are more useful to God. His teaching was my favorite part of the conference.

We decided to leave since we faced a ninety-minute lunch break and two more rounds of singing. All that just to hear an hour and a half of speakers, and the church was recording it. So I signed up to get information about the recordings and we left. On the way home Charlotte commented about the disconnect between the “show” and the conference topic. I agreed and continued thinking more about how appalled I was at the culturally irrelevant music and décor than what the speakers said. But a few days later, I’m more impressed by what a whiny American I am, compared to how sacrificial Christians in other countries are. They seem to take suffering and persecution as normal, while I mope about going to a high school football game in fall weather. But I don’t want to throw a pity party about how pathetic I am. I just hope I can remember what other people face to stay true to the gospel the next time I start complaining about being cold or feeling awkward.

After reading the September’s Christianity Today and Joel’s most recent blog, I just had to write a response. Both dealt with, among other topics, the concept of Christian culture makers, a buzzword for the idea that Christians ought to use their positions in society to remake our culture. CT’s cover piece explained and celebrated the movement, while Joel’s blog discerningly denounced it. Christian cultural shaping is considered redemptive work in itself, and while it’s often admirable in its social effects, I heartily agree with Joel that it cannot be the way forward for believers who wish to fulfill the Great Commission.

The cover of CT this month announced “The New Culture Makers” as its premier feature and the editorial explained that the cover article was excerpted from CT editor Andy Crouch’s new book Culture Making. Crouch is also partnering with a sociologist to “explore how increased graduate education among evangelicals has created a new reservoir of culture influence.” Naturally I’m all for education but after reading this, institution was the word that flashed into my mind. Christianity doesn’t need more degrees; it needs more disciples.

Andy Crouch, why Christianity doesn't need more degrees

The first page of “Creating Culture” was illustrated with ironically and typically bad CT art depicting a guy in overalls with a linebacker’s neck painting an unrecognizable black blob on a tree branch. “Our best response to the world is to make something of it,” read the called-out quotation. Is that so? I thought our best response to the world was to “Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey all that I have commanded You” (Matthew 28:18-20). I thought our response was to love.

“Making something of the world” cannot be done through social services, artistic endeavors, or political programs alone. These undertakings can make some difference in the quality of life for some, but what about the quality of the afterlife? Neither this life nor the next should be ignored when we attempt to impact the world. Christian culture-making shouldn’t be an end in itself. It’s an end we’ll hopefully experience when more Christians (including new ones) learn to love the world as Christ did.

To be clear, I’m not advocating withdrawal from the world. Commands like “Go” and “Love” don’t make much room for huddling together, trying to decide on the style of worship music or color of felt banners for fellowship hall. I like that Andy Crouch argues against the condemning posture Christians have assumed on a too broad a scale, which can easily result in removal from the world.

I’m also not suggesting that we ignore the suffering and evil in the world. If this were the case we wouldn’t be volunteering at an inner-city after school program and praying about global problems at the missions prayer meeting. The Bible calls us to “be kind to the poor” in sacrificial and substantial ways.

Lastly, I don’t mean that Christians shouldn’t pursue careers, education, and hobbies. God created us in His image with the abilities to accomplish, think, and create. I’m an art-lover myself, and by that I mean an art-dance-music-word-drama-lover. But we shouldn’t pursue these areas before or in place of God’s Kingdom. We should “seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness,” and His Kingdom is built through relationships.

Crouch’s excerpt has more good than bad points, but I’m wary of lines like “the church is a culture-making enterprise itself, concerned with making something of the world in the light of the story that has upended our assumptions about that world.” Historically, when the church has made culture it’s ended in bloodshed, biblical ignorance, and legalism.

One last observation: of the five “culture makers” profiled in CT, only one was obviously trying to fulfill the Great Commission. He was doing inner-city ministry in Chicago because the Bible says to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Right on. The others may be evangelizing and discipling, but those goals weren’t evident in the profiles.

Dennis closed the 2007 Xenos Summer Institute with a teaching called “Cultivating a Tender Heart.” It’s worth listening to (http://www.xenos.org/xsi/resources.htm#2007) and/or reading his paper (http://www.xenos.org/essays/tender_heart.htm) by the same title. It’s been over a year since I’ve done either, but the theme strikes me as increasingly relevant: in ministry we face the paradox of loving people with the hope that God will change them, but we also know they may choose to reject God and us. Even with a disciple it’s possible to invest deeply and sacrificially for years, only to lose them to a person, a job, or a drug. It’s a painful reality and especially tempts seasoned workers to hold something back—namely, their hearts. What does that look like? The leader might give of time, knowledge, prayer, and counsel, but ultimately their efforts lack zeal because they are afraid of being hurt. The less compassion and vulnerability are developed in the friendship, the less will be lost if the person forsakes their walk with God. So the thinking goes. Yet the Bible calls for something quite different:

“Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).

I periodically (at least once a week) dive into the depths of my melancholy nature and revel in the misery and fear of historic and potential losses. First it was Missy, then Kay, then Jen. Now I fear the same for Yana. And I start naming a handful of people who might be next. I don’t want to care about them, I conclude. It’ll hurt too much later on.

But then I remember how much God has been hurt by humanity. Think of all the times people turned their back on God. There was the Garden of Eden incident for starters. He must have been profoundly grieved, as well as wondering, “What exactly did you think I meant by ‘If you eat of it, you will surely die?’” And He didn’t flood the earth because people were thriving spiritually. Nor did He confuse the languages at Babel because people were building a tower to honor Him. Abraham’s naughty little scheme for baby-making without his decrepit wife wasn’t exactly godly, either, but God still came through on his promise when Abraham repented. Jacob was a complete con artist but he still secured God’s blessing.

Then there’s Moses, a nasty combination of murderer and whiner, but God miraculously led the Israelites out of Egypt with him as their leader. Speaking of Israel and whiners, God’s chosen people always promptly forgot how God provided for them and bowed down to stupid wooden lawn statues instead. God repeatedly mourns their unfaithfulness, comparing them to a wife who committed adultery again and again. But He kept taking them back, picking them up and dusting them off through forgiveness and healing. David was a total macho-man idiot, what with the womanizing and husband-killing, but God used him because he was “a man after God’s own heart.” The list goes on and on, with Israel the star idiot of the Old Testament drama. But God never gave up, reneged on His promises, or withheld His love.

And then I remember how much God has been hurt by me. I’m a star idiot, too. From the sinful state I was born in to my fear and negativity, to the daily sinful thoughts and motives I’m not even aware of, He has plenty of reason to write me off. Yet He pursues me with lovingkindness just as He did with Israel. I didn’t go looking for God. He was looking out for me. He tracked me down and drew me to Himself. It had nothing to do with me or my goodness. There is nothing good about me (Isaiah 64:6), but He wants me anyway.

How heartbreaking God’s hurts must be; how agonizing to endure. And I complain when I lose a disciple or two, whom I didn’t love nearly as well as God loves me. While it’s worth mourning the loss of those friends I can’t let that change how I love the people God’s put in my life right now. I want to cultivate the tender heart He has displayed through Scripture and in my relationship with Him. It’s a heart that continues to love even in the face of betrayal and unfaithfulness. It’s a heart that loves boldly, relentlessly, tenderly, and patiently. It’s a heart that pursues, initiates, chases down the people who so desperately need Christ’s healing love. That’s what it means to “love one another as I have loved You” (John 13:34).

Have you ever prayed for brokenness, that painful process that reduces the flesh so the Spirit can shine forth? It’s a scary prayer because you know God will answer it, and it won’t feel good when He does.

I prayed for God to break me of my pride earlier this summer. I prayed I would not become a comfortable Christian. Even as I wrote the words in my prayer journal, I shuddered to think of what the answer might look like. Perhaps I would fail miserably in ministry, lose someone close to me, or be called to missions in a dangerous country. Part of me thought it would be awful if God allowed those things to happen, but at the same time I knew God was wise and loving. I struggled to accept that God is not a God of comfort, but He always knows and wants what’s best for us.

So how did He answer? For now He’s placed me in high school ministry, with a large cell group of some highly damaged girls. This certainly wasn’t the answer I expected, but the breaking has already begun. And despite my best prayer-journal intentions, I wriggled and writhed at the first sign of suffering. I cried through a couple weeks, alternating between acceptance and despair at my situation. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the girls or the ministry. But I felt overwhelmed, inadequate, and under-supported. I was shocked at my own immaturity, which hadn’t surfaced so blatantly when I was comfortable in my previous roles.

God was hammering away at my heart of pride, self-dependence, and fear. I felt awkward and uncomfortable when I stepped outside of the tribe of my old home church. God was answering my prayer, but it felt like He was hanging me out to dry, setting me up for failure. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He came in with support and new plan for the girls’ cell group leadership. The work has just begun, both in ministry and in my heart. I’m sure I’ll resist the Surgeon’s healing incisions again, but hopefully I give Him enough room to work.

The process of the “breaking of the outer man for the release of the Spirit,” (Watchman Nee), reminds me of a poem called “Batter my Heart.” It’s by John Donne, the 18th-century metaphysical poet of “no man is an island” fame. I’ve updated the spelling to make it more readable:

Batter my heart, three person’d God; for, you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy:
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

John Donne, my poet-hero

The imagery is startling: first Donne’s heart is like a castle door which He asks God to charge with a battering ram so he can be healed. He says if he takes a stand on his own, God should overthrow Him with force in order to make him into the new creature God wants him to be. The means he suggests—breaking, blowing, and burning—all sound painful. Donne compares his heart to a town where he’s unfairly taken control; it rightfully belongs to God. He’s trying to let God rule, but his mind struggles to believe and therefore admit the true King. And yet he knows his thinking is weak, false, and easily held captive.

Donne experiences the human tension of loving God and wanting God’s love, even as he plays the harlot with the devil. He asks God to break his bonds with the devil and make him God’s prisoner instead. Until then, Donne realizes he can’t be free, since humans by nature are not independent beings. The last line is scandalous, but rounds out the metaphysical conceit of being betrothed to the devil: he can never be pure until God has full power over him, penetrating every area of his life.

Of course the Bible has much to say on the topic of how God batters our hearts and “ravishes” us. First, He can show us our sin more clearly, thus leading us to repentance and the new and living way:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there by any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way.”
-Psalm 139:23, 24

Sometimes breaking requires more than a glimpse of our sin nature. Hebrews explains that God, like any good father, disciplines in love:

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him,
For those whom the Lord loves He disciples,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”
-Hebrews 12: 5, 6 quoting Proverbs 3:12

We are encouraged to endure God’s discipline “so that we may share His holiness” (Hebrews 12:10b). As Keith taught recently, we cannot gain substance in the Christian life until we’ve grown beyond the “American way” of comfort, rights-thinking, and instant pleasure. Like an Olympic athlete, we cannot hope to win the race Paul speaks of (2 Timothy) without serious training and endurance. Everyone knows “no pain, no gain” is true. The Bible concurs:

“All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.”
-Hebrews 12:11

In our fallen world, suffering is inevitable. The question is not whether we’ll suffer, or even how much, but if we’ll allow God to use it for good in our lives. In the midst of intense, life-threatening persecution, Paul kept perspective on the relative values of temporal comfort versus eternal reward:

“Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
-2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Paul could rejoice in physical and emotional pain because God was using it to grow his spirit, the inner man. Peter agrees earthly suffering is worthwhile in light of the substance our faith gains now, and the eternal glory of heaven:

“In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
-1 Peter 1:6, 7

I’m still a sissy when it comes to suffering, but I’ll continue daring to pray for brokenness.

Last week over 50 from our fellowship made the annual sojourn to their Mecca in Columbus for the Xenos Summer Institute. With an impressive line-up of speakers ranging from professors to practitioners and the timely topic of being “True to the Word, True to our Mission,” the 2008 conference promised to deal with the tensions of being biblically faithful and culturally relevant in our postmodern world.

The first night Dennis McCallum delivered sobering statistics about the American church’s failure to get the job of reconciliation done. He left the audience with several keys to victory: forsaking political agitation which comes to be identified with Christianity, abandoning legalism which is both unbiblical and unattractive, making real friendships with non-Christians, unapologetically preaching the Word, and making disciples via real engagement with people’s lives. “It’s not a popularity contest,” he concluded about church growth.

Next up was Mark Driscoll, the ex-emergent “swearing pastor” of Mars Hill Church in Seattle. Most of NeoXenos sat right next to where he stood offstage.

“Oh my God! It’s him!” Mike Huddock squealed like a teenage girl at a Backstreet Boys concert.

Passionate Pastor Mark Driscoll

Driscoll did not disappoint. His edgy teaching, sprinkled with sarcasm and pop-culture-filled rants, described missional ministry, a precursor to evangelism in which we get a read on the culture. Working from Acts 17, he laid out four principles of missionary ministry: Go, See, Feel, Do. Rather than outline the somewhat rudimentary concepts, I will highlight his most insightful ideas. Driscoll argued for the strategic importance of doing church in cities, as that’s where culture is made. Usefully, he referred to idols as “functional saviors,” stating that “behind every idol is a need for the gospel.” He followed with a list of soul-convicting questions to unveil our personal idols and emphasized repentance as vital to the gospel. He argued for seeking to reach Jesus needs rather than felt needs. And he used the illustration of wielding a closed hand for the big issues we’re willing to contend for, and maintaining an open hand for showing how the gospel is relevant through contextualization.

The next morning’s sessions could have been titled “Emerging Church 101” as Driscoll and D.A. Carson both delivered their assessment of the emerging church. In short, evangelicals agree with emergents that there has been a transition toward pluralism and that we need to assume a missionary posture in our home culture, but we disagree about the changes we should make. Emergents are open to changing their message and methods, while evangelicals will only move on the latter. In short, emergents are mainly ex-fundies who, disenchanted with the legalism and consumerism of the traditional church, are creating their own structure of pick-and-choose spirituality. “Same whore, new dress,” Driscoll described their reworked consumerism. Driscoll ended with a call to humility and repentance regarding the truth in emegents’ critiques.

D.A. Carson, My Hero

Carson, professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, followed with revisions to his Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church and a call to “be faithful to what the Bible says are ‘matters of first importance.’” His most valuable point, which coincides with our desire for a grace awakening, was to be careful what we’re passionate about, because that’s what people learn. “If you assume the gospel but become passionate about apologetics of cultural sensitivity,” Carson says, we’re in trouble. He left with a challenge to study the word gospel throughout the New Testament to regain a thoroughly biblical understanding of the familiar term.

In the well-attended breakout session “Emergent Meets Evangelical Dialogue,” Dennis McCallum conversed with two people from the Central Ohio Emergent Cohort. The session was frustrating because of the guests’ ambiguity, but it is perhaps the best way to understand the nature and dangers of the movement. Their conversation is built on false dichotomies: between omniscience and any capacity to know, between theology and praxis, between truth and experience. This last was most effectively refuted in Carson’s plenary session Thursday night.

Listen to Carson’s “Biblical Reflection on Truth and Experience.” Take notes. Listen to it again. It is at once intellectually demanding, hermeneutically rigorous, and substantially practical. He takes the audience from Hebrew poetic parallelism through a seventh-grade gum-chewing reprimand to the ethical-ontological paradoxes of 1 John. He acknowledges the cultural baggage we bring to a text, one of postmodernism’s best points, and looks to genre as a key to unlocking meaning in the Bible. In the polarities of wisdom literature we can see the absolutism of God’s nature (truth), while in narratives we are reminded of both our brokenness and usefulness to God (experience).

Scott Arnold, who leads an urban sphere in Xenos, followed with content that pierced the heart of the emergent’s complaint that evangelicals don’t practice the gospel by caring for the poor. His teaching was mostly descriptive and historical, but provided a valuable context to Gary DeLashmutt’s closing address Friday night.

Mark Mittelberg

Mark Mittelberg, co-author of Becoming a Contagious Christian and author of Choosing Your Faith, offered useful categories for understanding how people choose a worldview and strategies for reaching them. In his second session, he laid out eight basic beliefs we should operate from in evangelism. He illustrated with the classic Bridge to Life drawing, but added a cultural chasm, among other elements. The teaching was solid and served as a good reminder of familiar fare for Xenoids.

A dated picture of Gary DeLashumutt

DeLashmutt closed the conference with a dynamic call to “Adorning the Gospel.” He dubbed the emergent church the “unpaid bill” of evangelicals in reference to social engagement, and confessed the discovery that Xenos does not have a good reputation in many communities. Then he followed the theme of good deeds throughout Titus, with Titus 3:14 as the key verse: “Our people must also learn to engage in good deeds to meet pressing needs, so that they will not be unfruitful.” His balanced handling showed good deeds affect the spread of the gospel as they enhance the attractiveness of its message, just as cosmetics draw attention to natural beauty. His practical suggestions should be considered by each of us as we seek to be faithful to God’s Word and fruitful in ministry.

In conclusion, the resolution to being culturally relevant without compromise was the same in every teaching: the gospel is still relevant. God’s Word is always true and always powerful. Thoughtful communication and compassion demonstrated in good deeds can portray God’s love to people at odds with truth, and God honors biblical faithfulness. As Dennis pointed out, “church is not a popularity contest,” so thankfully Christ promised: “I will build my church.”

Since we’ve established that we should go to the Xenos Summer Institute after all, let’s get informed, too. The topic is being culturally relevant in an age when claiming the Bible’s authority seems the greatest sin of all. And D. A. Carson, who teaches theology at Trinity Evangelical School, should offer biblical, intellectual, and workable ideas on how we can be “True to the Word, True to our Mission.”

If you haven’t yet read Carson’s Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, you should. Even if you’ve never heard of the emerging/emergent church movement, or you’ve never personally encountered it, this book is a worthwhile read for any thinking Christian. Carson articulates postmodernism’s strengths, weaknesses, and permutations with his usual impressive yet accessible prose, and also communicates the emerging church’s evaluation of and response to our culture.

In essence, the emerging church seeks to reach postmoderns by abandoning the institutional church, seeking authenticity through service and integrity, and questioning the Enlightenment’s tradition of epistemology (how we know things). None of that sounds too bad on the surface, which is why disenchanted fundies devour the clever writings of McLaren, Miller, et al like donuts in the fellowship hall. The danger lies between the lines of their manipulative language, where they effectually deny biblical truth, or at least our ability to know it, and question the exclusivity of the gospel’s promises.

From the title on, Carson shows a subtle and balanced understanding of both our culture and the emerging church, the leaders of which prefer to call their movement a “conversation.” For those of us who don’t have time to study the growing body of emerging literature ourselves (although I think I will read at least one of McLaren’s books), Carson offers a sampling of quotations and arguments from the emergents, along with his analysis. I don’t wish to outline his book here, but I want to share what is perhaps the most helpful point for dealing with postmodernism and the emerging church:

“So which shall we choose? Experience or truth? . . . Love or integrity? Study or service? Evangelism or discipleship? . . . Damn all false antitheses to hell, for they generate false gods, they perpetuate false idols, they twist and distort our souls, they launch the church into violent pendulum swings whose oscillations succeed only in dividing brothers and sisters in Christ.”

Postmodernists rightly observes that we are inevitably products of our culture (a truism in itself), which means we have different perspectives and experiences that restrict our ability to know truth. The soft postmodernist may leave the discussion there, and I would agree. But the hard postmodernist presses further to argue that because our viewpoints are culturally determined and we are finite beings, we cannot know objective truth. Carson points out that while we cannot know perfectly, completely, i.e. omnisciently, we can know something of reality. We can asymptotically approximate knowledge of the truth in many matters. And this is the false antithesis hard postmodernism asserts and the emerging church tends to buy. It’s all or nothing when it comes to the truth, and since knowing all is obviously impossible, we are left with nothing.

I think this book is especially valuable for those entering college as they are about to confront postmodernism in a more philosophical and pervasive way than ever before, and will probably meet with all sorts of biblically shifty campus churches and ministries, too. It’s one of Carson’s shorter works at just over two hundred pages, and he is careful to explain theological and philosophical terms he uses. So check it out and join the conversation.