Follower

As you can see in my last post, I finally caved in and signed up for Twitter a couple days ago.  Twitter uses interesting language.  On Facebook, the people who can "hear" and "see" you are your "friends."  On Twitter, people who can "hear" and "see" you are your "followers."  And the tweets (Twitter's terminology for the 140 character messages that are the backbone of their network) that I receive on my home page are from those people I "follow."

If you subscribe to (or at least grapple with) the Christian worldview, the idea of "following" should bring pause.  Jesus didn't use the word Christian, but he certainly called people to "follow" him.  When he confronted Levi (aka Matthew) the toll-collector, he commands, simply: "come follow me."  Our 21st Century Western ears miss the power of that moment, the power of that phrase.  Perhaps we think of Jesus as such a gravitational figure that Levi couldn't resist; or we assume the Holy Spirit was doing a mighty work in Levi's heart, such that he was already longing for Jesus before Jesus walked up to his booth.  While both of those imaginations are likely true, the cultural weight of that moment makes it even more powerful.  The invitation "come, follow me" was the manner in which a Rabbi would invite the best and brightest of his students to become his apprentices.  Culturally, when a Rabbi asks such a question, it would be rare (if ever) that a student would say "no."  The Rabbi had extended a rare honor. And by leaving his life behind, the student was now on the road to becoming a Rabbi himself.

"Following" shapes one's identity.  Who we follow will form who we are.  And every thinking person should be very critical about who we follow and why we follow them.  Paul gives the most significant criteria in 1 Corinthians 11:1, "Follow me, as I follow Christ."  The NRSV, my translation of choice, draws out the nature of biblical following (Paul thought like a Rabbi too): "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ."  The weight of this criteria rests on the word as. Follow me, as I follow Christ.  In other words, if one isn't following Christ, don't follow that one.   


For those odd people who think of me as a leader, I implore you: only follow me as I follow Christ.  That puts a lot of responsibility on your shoulders.  

Now, with Twitter, the terminology is a bit misleading.  My friend Jeff "follows" 924 Tweeters, at present.  I may have the distinct honor of being his 924th.  Among my close friends, he's one I consider to be a "master of social media."  Just because Twitter uses the lingo, doesn't mean we're really following all the people we're "following."  But, the lingo has left me wondering... who do I follow?  In the Church, there are a handful of pastors and thinkers that I pay very close attention to.  In the Body of Christ, it seems to me that we all should be following Christ, and EVERY ONE OF US should be following people who are following Christ.  You could call this a version of mutual submission.  Below is a non-exhaustive list of people I follow.  As I consider who is and isn't on this list, and especially as I think about people who used to be on this list but were intentionally removed, I realize that my own personal criteria have more facets than Paul's first big requirement from 1 Cor 11.  There are a number of people I used to follow who began to teach, preach, and write things that were a twisting of the Bible.  Others were people who's passion inspired me, but ultimately their message created a false tension between Christianity and the mind; anti-intellectualism is a disturbing trend in Evangelicalism (though it seems to be fading... maybe just in my world, since I've stopped paying attention to those who pushed it).  Anyway, who do I follow?  These leaders, thinkers, and writers shape the way I speak, write, and think.  This list is in no particular order, nor is it anywhere close to exhaustive:

1. Douglas Groothuis, PhD.  Professor of philosophy at Denver Seminary. 
2. Rev. Timothy Keller, Redeemer Presbyterian Church, New York City. 
3. Britt Merrick, Teaching Pastor of Reality Carpinteria (and founder of the Reality movement of churches which has now planted several churches along the west coast).  
4. David Platt, Pastor of the Church at Brook Hills, and author of Radical.
5. C.S. Lewis, author.  Though he is no longer alive, I follow him actively through his many books.  
6. John Piper, Pastor, author, and teacher.  I love how seriously he takes the truth.  
7. Ben Patterson, Campus Pastor at Westmont College, author. The man who, by his life and manner of speaking and related, defines the word "pastor" for me. 

The spark for this whole post, as I scanned Twitter this morning, was this thought: "Hmmm.  I'm a follower."  I've been trained to think that's a bad thing.  The truth is, it would be bad if I wasn't! Who do you follow?  And why do you follow them?  Entertainment value?  Shock value?  Character? Or because they follow Christ?  Choose critically and carefully.  Be willing to stop following someone who isn't worth following.  

@the_wright_mike is me on Twitter

I joined Twitter yesterday.  It bothers me that I would have to limit myself to 140 characters... but it probably will make you (if you're a regular reader of mine) happy.  If anyone has advice on how to use twitter in an effective, kingdom building, church edifying way... I'm all ears.

My Twitter "name" (or is it "address?"  Or "profile?"  Or "handle?") is @the_wright_mike. 

Headlines Scanned, Laments Required

(This looks like a poem; it's not.  It's an observation, a reaction.)

As I grow wickedly used to Libyan nightmares
As the layers of disaster in Japan unfold
I sit on a padded chair, sipping coffee.
Facebook is full of posts laughing at funny photos,
complaining about work, ignoring the world.

Break our hearts, O God!
People are underwater,
Others are starving,
Still others are captive to a wicked dictator
hunting their brethren down with automatic weapons.
(this stanza could continue for pages)

A prayer we must learn to pray:
"How long, O Lord? Will you hide yourself forever?"
I hold to hope: in eternity, this will make sense, bring joy, cause worship.
I understand hope: it doesn't yet.

"For in hope we are saved. 
Now hope that is seen is not hope.
For who hopes for what is seen?"

Lent

Yesterday began the season of Lent, the spiritual countdown to Easter Sunday.  What's it about?  Here, rather than giving an encyclopedic answer, I'd like to offer a few of my own thoughts.

In one of the most commonly repeated prayers of Paul, his prayer for the Ephesian Christian in Ephesians 1:15-23, he connects all his requests (wisdom, revelation, knowing the hope to which they've been called, knowing the reality of their spiritual inheritance, and knowing God's power available specifically for believers) to a very unique sort of power: the power of resurrection.  That is the climax of the prayer: that they may know the power of the resurrection.

Paul tells us more about this power: "God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this page but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all."  (Eph 1:20-23).  It's amazing language, and quite a description of the current status of Jesus, the Anointed One.  BUT, the main purpose of this description of Jesus is to tell the Ephesians (and you and me) about this crazy sort of power available to believers.  The power of resurrection.

But knowing that power is, in the ebb and flow of normal life, difficult (to put it mildly).  It's no wonder Paul is praying this rather than just telling the Ephesians about it.  The build up in the prayer describes the heart of the Lent season:

1. Recognize God as the Father of glory
2. Receive from him a spirit of wisdom and revelation which happens as we come to know him
3. After, or as a result of receiving the spirit of wisdom and revelation, knowledge of hope, inheritance, and the available power is the fruit.

So, what is Lent about?  It is about receiving a spirit of wisdom and revelation.  That is why people traditionally choose something to abstain from during this season - don't just choose something to choose it, or because it's fattening, or because it's expensive, or because that's what you've always fasted for Lent.  Honestly evaluate your life and ask: what is impeding wisdom and revelation from taking root in my life?  What am I holding onto or doing that is (or might be) keeping the spirit of wisdom and revelation at arm's length?

Easter at its best is a recognition of the "immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe," because Easter is when we remind ourselves overtly: Jesus really died on a Roman cross, and his body really got placed in a tomb, and he really walked out of it on the third day.  And that is really supposed to completely alter the way we live, speak, love, pray, and hope.  Otherwise, there is no Christian hope, there are no "riches of his glorious inheritance," and there is no power.

To put all this in different words: Lent is not about giving something up and griping about how much it stinks; Lent is about opening your eyes and seeing what you have (or could have): immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe.  

Sermon: Wise Marriage (and Singleness)

Click here to hear yesterday's sermon on marriage through Proverbs' eyes. 

Wise Singleness

Yesterday, I attempted (rather un-wisely) to cover everything Proverbs has to say about the marriage relationship, as well as give a cultural context for marriage in Ancient Israel compared to now, and even trace some of the trajectories that started in the Proverbial observations through the Apostle Paul and into the present day about singleness.  Oh, and tie the living metaphor of marriage to the invisible reality of Christ and the church and therefore practice some intimacy through communion.  We don't have the sermon uploaded yet, but when we do, I'll post a link.

For the many single people who were in the audience (and the single people who listen online), I apologize for trying to do too much in the message, because the important "trajectory" that I wanted to trace as an encouragement to you was far too rushed and missed some important points.  These are conclusions that are available to anyone who calmly observes a handful of marriages, as well as clearly studying Proverbs' (and 1 Corinthians') teachings on marriage:

To begin with, Proverbs talks a lot about the "contentious wife."  She is quarrelsome, fretful, and argumentative.  To slow her down, according to 27:15-16, is like trying to stop the wind or grasp oil in your hand.  Now, nearly everyone gets contentious once in a while; this is talking about those who are contentious as a point of character: constantly, repeatedly, naturally disagreeing to everything first, rarely trusting of her (or his) spouse.  The basic observation is: life with her (or him) is really bad.  It would be better to live on the corner of a rooftop (25:24), or in a desert (21:19) than with her. Poverty, the wise observer notes, is better than riches with constant bickering and arguing.  It is important to note, here, that Proverbs does not give license for divorce; rather, these observations are to serve as "wake up calls" for those couples living in contention.  Peaceful, kind, loving, and respectful ways of interacting can be learned.

With all that in mind, what "trajectory" is this starting?  By the time Paul was offering wisdom to the early Christians, especially in 1 Corinthians, he was instructing the single or widowed believers that it was better NOT to get married (1 Cor 7:8-35).  Ancient Israel may have expected basically everyone to be married, but Paul swims against the stream.  How did he get there?  I think it starts with the observations of Proverbs.

The contentious wife observations are a flashing neon sign saying to singles: "DON'T SETTLE! DON'T MARRY JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE LONELY!" I am 29, and I have already seen several of my peers' marriages fall apart because contentiousness took over in their relationship.  Every one of them has said to me: it is miserable and they wish they had never married.

Let's take it a step further: Some marry because they so longed to have sex that they were willing to marry anyone. For those who have chosen purity in their singleness, I applaud you, AND I urge you to resist the message of our culture that says sex is so good that it's worth marrying someone you have trouble relating to because you want to have it.  For men and women alike, sex is an apex in the mountain range of intimacy, but like any apex, you must climb the rest of the mountain to get there.  In other words: sex without emotional and spiritual intimacy is NOT fulfilling... no matter how loudly our culture (and your hormonal impulse) shouts that it is.  In other words: some people are burning with desire, as Paul says (see below) and should get married, but I believe many people are merely tricked by the sexual zeitgeist ("spirit of the age") to THINK they are burning with desire... when the Lord's best for you is actually to be single.  Why would that be his best?

1 Corinthians 7 highlights a prioritization in these questions that is worth repeating here: Paul teaches that it is easier to be a messenger of the gospel if you are single, as marriage introduces responsibilities that single people don't have to worry about.  In other words, the communication of the gospel is more important than marriage.  No matter what the fear-mongers say about how fast other religions are pro-creating, let us hear Paul clearly: it is better to pro-create spiritually than biologically. BUT, the gospel hinges on the purity of the messenger - that is the way of Jesus, who communicated the kingdom most effectively in his pure life and sacrificial death.  What that means is that because the gospel is more important than marriage, purity is more important than efficient gospel communication, because without purity the gospel cannot be effectively communicated.  Or in Paul's words: if you are burning with desire, go ahead and get married.

This line of thinking should impact Church leadership decisions, too.  Some of the wisest people in church communities are the mature single people, those who for any number of reasons never married, and therefore have grown very deep and intimate relationships with Jesus and with others in the Christian community.  Some Protestants are tricked to believe that marriage is a sign of maturity (forgetting that Jesus and Paul were bachelors all their lives... would you NOT let Paul be an elder in your church?).  I am very happy that our church has often had mature single people on the Session (the "elder board"), and I hope we never get deceived by the evangelical cult of marriage that says we shouldn't.

These are the points that did not get made very clearly about the Wisdom of Singleness in my sermon yesterday.  Thank God for blogs and other media that give frustrated preachers like me a chance to patch the holes!  

Proverbs, Relationships, and Exposed Nerves

This last Sunday I attempted to communicate the heart of Proverbs' message about the Parent-Child relationship.  You can hear that sermon here.  I am not a parent (yet), nor am I all that old and experienced (yet).  However, this particular issue, and the one I'm preparing to discuss next Sunday (marriage, unless the Spirit alters the plan), exposes nerves.

After all, sitting in the relatively small congregation on Sunday (I'd guess we had about 70 adults there, but I'm not great at making that guess), there were people who:

1. Have tried to have kids and were never able to. 
2. Have tried to have kids, weren't able to, and so adopted. 
3. Have had a great experience with their adopted kids.
4. Have had deeply painful experiences with their adopted kids, despite their best efforts. 
5. Have kids at several stages of life and because of divorce and a host of other issues are now separated from them. 
6. Have kids and are doing the best they can... but can feel them slipping away. 
7. Have kids and it all seems to be going according to plan. 
8. I'm sure there's more... but I'm just doing a mental scan of the people in the room!

Not only that, but the heart of the message was not supposed to be to parents, but to all of us as children of parents - which comes in many forms: biological parents, spiritual parents, adopted parents, and more.  Suffice it to say, my list of painful issues with all of those relationships would be much longer than 7 points.

And yet, as I've written in previous posts, Proverbs is mostly optimistic about things.  It generally says: "Live wisely and ultimately reap the benefits."  It is at times realistic about the fact that people can find themselves in very luxurious or typically-desirable situations (such as wealth, feasts, marriage, lots of kids, influential positions, etc.) even though they are immoral, dishonest, vindictive, cruel, or otherwise wicked and foolish (See the many "better than" statements which honestly recognize that some people are wicked but have material luxury: 16:8, 19; 17:1; 21:9, 19; and several more).  I'm grateful that it has this realistic balance, and that such a balance forces us to read the promised rewards for the wise and righteous as beyond the scope of this life.

The point of this post, however, is to ask: what does one do in light of the fact that the pithy sayings of Proverbs, which are indeed generally true, don't line up well with the painful and messy situations of life?  I've been wrestling with this in the wake of preaching on Parenting and in the preparation for preaching on Marriage. And it certainly will continue when we get to Proverbs on money, on the way we speak, on business practices, and more.

The answer is Jesus.  Really.  Tonight I stumbled across an excellent article by Rev. Tim Keller of Redeemer Presbyterian in New York City on "The Importance of Hell."  For reasons far beyond the scope of this discussion, I hope many Christians read it and grapple with it; it very succinctly explains my beliefs about hell (and adds new insights and explanations that ring deeply true).

Inside the scope of this article is his suggestion that Hell serves to teach the radical redemptive power of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross.  As I read that thought, this whole discussion of parenting and marriage happening inside my head clicked with a new life: everything Proverbs has to say about parenting surely ultimately points us to Jesus.  God, whom we lovingly call Father (as Jesus always called him), sets the supreme example of loving parenting by Incarnating as Jesus and enduring the corporal, spiritual, emotional, and social punishment that was justly deserved by all of his children.  Sacrifice proves to be the key to parenting; God the Father proves to be the perfect parent.  And even he, like several of the people sitting in the congregation of Littleton Christian Church last Sunday, endured the worst sort of suffering in hopes of a great sort of gladness knowing that many whom he loved would continue to reject him.

What I'm trying to say is: Proverbs on Parenting sets our hopes high by saying it like it is: a wise child makes his/her father and mother deeply happy (generally), while a foolish child brings great pain and sadness to his/her father and mother.  Present and future parents alike long for that happiness.  And yet, these high hopes lead to anxiety, shame, confusion, and ultimately, to the recognition that even the perfect parent, with the perfect discipline, must walk the way of the cross.

O God, you are the Perfect Parent, and for us to know you and know your wisdom, you became the Perfect Penitent.  We turn from our human attempt at wisdom yet again, and walk to your cross, denying ourselves and following you for ourselves, and for those in our care.  Amen.