This week’s edition of Newsweek had more than a few articles that interested me for various reasons - more on that at another day (I am in the middle of a series, after all…). One little side interview on faith, however, troubled me greatly. One look at the headline and the by-line will tell you why. As a review, for those of you who clicked on the link, here’s the by-line: “An Anglican theologian explains that the resurrection really happened—and that the Kingdom is really coming.” This, of course, passes for shocking (shocking!) news in our day. What rift opened in the space-time continuum recently to unearth an Anglican theologian that believes, with subsequent gasps of surprise, that Jesus actually rose from the grave?
This assertion from Jon Meacham and Lisa Miller, however, provides the real chills and thrills: “Among many Western Christians, however, the word “resurrection” means something else: a supernatural event, a spiritual ascent, a poetic metaphor.” I suppose that it would be best if I refrained from asking for descriptives delineating “a supernatural event” from an event that, in their own words with their own italicized emphasis, “really happened.” Pressing on, however, I am curious about the truth behind their premise. Is this true? Do many Western Christians possess a terrifying ignorance about what Paul referred to a the substance of our faith and preaching (1 Cor. 15:14)? For, as Paul stated, without a truly risen Christ to set our hope upon, all we have is hope for this life only. If this is true, Paul asserted, then “we are of all men the most pitiable.”
Which, of course, means that those who reduce the resurrection of Christ to a “spiritual ascent” or a “poetic metaphor” subscribe to a faith that is “futile” and leaves them “still in their sins” (1 Cor. 15:17) - such is the power of the resurrection that Paul longed to possess within himself (Phil. 3:10). The doctrine of the resurrection and our subsequent hope of glory provide the very substance of a living faith that is connected to another age and the insatiable longing for things to come. What is it that these “Western Christians” are hoping for?
The very notion of a faith robbed of an actual resurrected Christ grieves me beyond measure and intensifies my longing for a true awakening in the West.
It is becoming clear that such an awakening must contain more than power and the conviction of sins - but must be energized by substantive preaching from the scriptures that establishes an invitation to a faith and a life that is wholly different than the one being offered within some of the very walls of Christendom today, much less the fallen world that appeals to the ungodly ambitions of carnal man. In short, we must have a re-awakening of true apostolic and prophetic preaching that authoritatively and powerfully compels men to a kingdom lifestyle that resembles the faith of our fathers - or else we will continue to live in a culture where such notions as the “resurrection” serve as a bemusing surprise to the intellectual elite that long for a better life apart from God.
Isn’t this the real issue behind this interview? It seems to me that the real shock to the writers here is that, in their estimation, N.T. Wright is a rational and intelligent man worthy of their respect. Thus it is hard for them to reconcile how one such as Wright could possibly subscribe to the notion of a “literal resurrection”. I wonder what they would have done had they met Jonathan Edwards? Such a question makes me long again for voices to arise with such authority and power connected to a message of the cross that constitutes true foolishness to those who are perishing (1 Cor. 1:18). I long for God to glorify Himself in this hour through the anointing of “weak things” which shame those who consider themselves “wise”.
Oh! That the “news” of the literal resurrection of Christ would have caused these writers (and their readers) to tremble - that the days would return in which such news would be as disruptive as it was when it was first proclaimed!
David
May 1st, 2008
If anyone was qualified to write about the weakness of true discipleship, it was John Mark. As a young man, Mark received a firsthand view of the new movement that would eventually conquer the mighty Roman Empire itself. It is widely believed that it was Mark’s home that hosted the Passover meal in the upper room; it was this very upper room that would later house a night and day prayer meeting in which 120 disciples tarried until the breakthrough of Pentecost. Thus, Mark’s home would be the very one that would be a key meeting place for the early church during the imprisonment of Peter. Upon his miraculous release in Acts 12, it was the first place he went to before moving on to “another place”.
Thus, John Mark’s home was a key hub of early New Testament Christianity. He had the unique privilege of having met or interacted with, early on, every key leader of the Gospels and the book of Acts. It would soon be time for him to be summoned to the forefront of the leadership of the Holy Spirit, as it was time for the movement to begin to move westward, towards the Greek and Macedonian regions. The young eyewitness to history was about to become a part of the story in a dynamic way.
Weakness under pressure
It was John Mark’s cousin, Barnabas, who initially opened the door for him. Barnabas had been sent by the apostolic leadership of the Jerusalem Church a year earlier to Antioch to see what the Holy Spirit was doing in that city - for the reports of His activity there had traveled all the way to Jerusalem, 300 miles to the south. Thus Barnabas made the 10-15 day journey from Israel to what is now the southern tip of modern-day Turkey. Because of the astonishing revival that was taking place there, he knew that more help was needed to serve what the Lord was doing. Of course, it would be a month or more before more apostolic leadership could arrive from Jerusalem.
Thus Barnabas decided to make a shorter journey westward to Tarsus, where a young apostle named Saul had been sent by the brethren a few years earlier because of threats to his life. Barnabas himself had been a part of this process, introducing the new brother to the apostolic leadership after they had received Saul with suspicion. He became a dogged apologist for the faith, frustrating the Hellenists in Jerusalem to the point of attempted murder. Barnabas knew that this young lightning rod was only 100 miles west along the coast, so he made the ten-day trip to Tarsus and back to mobilize Saul for the revival in Antioch. After a year of successful ministry there, the two of them were sent back to Jerusalem with both prophetic information and provision for a coming famine that would strike the Roman Empire.
When the time came for the two of them to return to Antioch, they invited John Mark to go with them. Not long after they arrived, a prayer and fasting meeting preceded the in-breaking of the Holy Spirit to launch a team led by Saul and Barnabas to Cyprus and Southern Turkey, just northwest of Tarsus. Thus John Mark was appointed as their assistant. John Mark, however, had already established a history of fear and trembling under pressure. Most scholars believe that Mark was referring to himself as the naked young man that fled from the Garden of Gethsemane, leaving his expensive linen cloak behind in his terror when young men from the contingent there to arrest Jesus laid hold of him.
Thus Mark did not respond well when the missions endeavor began to move to new frontiers. There were minor challenges in Cyprus, including a “certain sorcerer” named Elymas, who opposed them vehemently. Once they reached the shores of southern Turkey and the port of Perga, the young assistant left the team and returned home, to Jerusalem. This failure to see the journey to the end would haunt Mark a few years later, when Paul and Barnabas set themselves to return to the original cities where they planted churches to strengthen and encourage them. The decision of the Jerusalem Council had been established, and after a season in Antioch it was time to establish the decree among the brethren who had been troubled by Paul’s enemies. There was one problem: Barnabas was determined to take John Mark with them again.
Thus began a conflict that became a contention “so sharp” that they parted ways with one another. Paul chose Silas as his ministry partner - probably having young Timothy in the back of his mind, knowing that he was returning to Derbe and Lystra. Barnabas, of course, took Mark and returned to the place of his previous failure: Cyprus. Whatever Barnabas did on that journey, the results were remarkable.
Finding Simon Peter
John Mark left for Cyprus not long after the Jerusalem Council, which took place sometime near 50-51 AD. What was as remarkable, if not more so, than Barnabas severing ties with Paul, was that Mark signed up again and faced the shame and the sting of his earlier failure. He wanted to press on - though he had departed early from the first missionary journey, he had not quit in relationship to his calling. Thus his next assignment from the Lord fit perfectly.
No one is sure how long Mark traveled with Barnabas, but what is clear is that, sometime over the next decade he ended up joining Simon Peter and becoming his assistant. Theirs was an ironically glorious partnership - two godly men who had struggled with failure and flight under pressure - both knowing firsthand the weakness of discipleship. It is beautiful to me that they served the Lord together. This quote from Papias, the Bishop of Hierapolis in the early 2nd Century, describes their ministry together, most likely in Rome:
“And the presbyter said this. Mark having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately whatsoever he remembered. It was not, however, in exact order that he related the sayings or deeds of Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor accompanied Him. But afterwards, as I said, he accompanied Peter, who accommodated his instructions to the necessities [of his hearers], but with no intention of giving a regular narrative of the Lord’s sayings. Wherefore Mark made no mistake in thus writing some things as he remembered them. For of one thing he took especial care, not to omit anything he had heard, and not to put anything fictitious into the statements.”
I appreciate Edgar Goodspeed’s interpretation of this fragment of information:
“…it seems to bring up the picture of Peter, an old man, visiting Rome in his later years and there preaching in his native Aramaic to the Greek congregation. They must have listened with rapt attention as the old apostle told of his walks and talks with Jesus in Galilee, and of the swift tragedy of betrayal and crucifixion which had followed in Judea. Then suddenly Peter is himself snatched from them and suffers martyrdom. It was one of the most famous of all martyrdoms; St Peter’s marks the supposed spot on the Vatican Hill, and legends like the stirring “Domine, quo vadis?” have gathered about it. It must have filled the Roman congregation with grief. No more would they hear the old man uttering his inimitable reminiscences of Jesus, for with his death a priceless treasure of such memories perished from the earth.
But not entirely. For as the old man had preached, there had stood beside him, of course, now one, now another of them, who could understand his Aramaic speech and immediately translate it into Greek for his Roman hearers. He had used these memories only to illustrate and strengthen his own preaching, and from hearing some incidents over and over a number of times and putting them into Greek, a capable and alert interpreter would come to have a very definite memory of their wording. Out of such memories, Papias means to say, one of these interpreters named Mark composed his gospel.”
What a glorious and awesome ministry John Mark had stumbled into. Peter called Mark “his son” (1 Pet. 5:13). He went from weakness and failure to a key position in the early church - interpreting the stories and sayings about Jesus. Those very accounts and sermons would go on to constitute his gospel, the first such work in church history. It must have seemed to be an unbelievable, yet happy turn of events for the Apostle Paul - who would end his life counting John Mark as one of his most faithful and loyal friends. This would be true for Paul even when all others had fled and abandoned him (2 Tim. 4:11). Much like Simon becoming “the Rock” that Jesus could build upon, a steady and grounded lover of God, John Mark would end his days as one of the most faithful, trustworthy, and bold witnesses for the gospel in all the world.
One of the glorious realities of the weakness of discipleship is that His power is made perfect in the process, and the end of the story is all the more stunning as a result.
David
April 29th, 2008
This article that I wrote a while ago was posted on the Onething site yesterday. It articulates the cry of my heart well - it’s from the “Sermon on the Mount” series that I began a while back, focusing on the Beatitudes.
Blessings to you today as you pursue His heart,
David
April 29th, 2008
I’ve been working on “The Gospel of Mark, the Weakness of Discipleship, Pt. 3″ since this past Friday. This is the section in which I had planned on telling Mark’s story, which is as much fun for me as the “heart stuff” in the first two parts that introduce the series. It’s been fun researching and refreshing myself on Mark’s story - I love searching for details and nuggets through the haze of history that I can add to my own picture of the events. It’s like finding unexpected pieces of tile to add to an ever expanding mosaic - one that adds color and sharpens the image a little more than before.
One of the fun little treasures I dug up was a quote examining the fairly famous (in these kinds of theology-dork circles) quote from Papias about Mark and Simon Peter (which you’ll have to wait for part 3 to read - oh! the suspense):
“The earliest piece of external, direct evidence comes to us from Papias, bishop of Hierapolis, (c. 60-130) who quotes someone he identifies as “the elder” (ho presbuteros), probably John the elder, an authoritative figure among the churches in the province of Asia (H.E. 3.39.4, 15).”
That line, for whatever reason, electrified my imagination. I’m familiar enough with the stories and traditions about John the beloved apostle late in his life. Yet, for some reason, this sentence opened a new “door” in my mind’s eye. I pictured this mysterious figure looming in the background of the late-first century church. I pictured young Christians hearing stories of the original “desert father” who wiser, older believers only referred to as “the elder.” I imagined younger believers trying to find out the identity of this mysterious elder - and why some in their midst would only tear up in deep tenderness and fondness when that designation came up.
I love a good mystery. I love imagining the journey of a young man trying to catch up with this mysterious figure as he moves mysteriously through the lives of those who populated the church of Asia Minor. Who was “the elder”? Was he a prophet, a second-generation believer who had an intimate relationship with the famous beloved disciple? Imagine the conversations and questions - and the dogged search to find out the truth about the identity of this mystical, almost mythical figure. Then imagine the day when the “elder” walks into your congregation. He seems to barely whisper the phrase, “Beloved, love one another…” before shuffling off to another place.
I love this stuff!
David
April 22nd, 2008
The easiest way to summarize the first part of this series, and the great problem of true discipleship, is found in Job 36:
“Behold, God is great, and we do not know Him;Nor can the number of His years be discovered.”
Again, two key points from part one: when I speak about the “weakness of discipleship”, I am speaking about the difficulty of a noble pursuit, not of the practice of discipleship itself. Secondly, I define “true discipleship” as the earnest and sincere desire to become like our Master in values, lifestyle, mindset, and desire - amongst many other categories that could be listed here. It is the very definition of discipleship that exposes the grand impossibility of our common goal, that we want to be, in essence, “perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect”, as Jesus mandated in Matthew 5:48. As such, of course, I believe that we will be perfected by the perfect work of the grace of God - and that this inward transformation is one that is God-initiated and God-directed. Righteousness, in other words, is first and foremost imputed before it is imparted.
Yet, it is imparted. The manner in which I express in humble obedience the righteousness of God imparted into my thinking, my understanding, and my responses in tenderness to His value system is the manner in which I “work out my salvation with fear and trembling” related to that which God is doing within me by grace to will and to do according to His good pleasure (Phil. 2:12-13). In other words, the work of grace through the ministry of the Holy Spirit first gives me power on the inside to want (or “will”) to do other than that which I had been doing. This is called “repentance“. Then, there is power from the Spirit of God yet again to do those things that please God rather than please my carnal flesh. Then, as I continue to walk in agreement with God related to His value system, the Holy Spirit operates within me to transform my desires - over time the things I loved I now either despise (sin) or, in process, simply feel ambivalent towards (weights that entangle). Things I used to dread, like prayer and the bible, I now love. Fasting, serving, sharing the gospel - all of these things are examples of desires that were imparted and cultivated in the place of prayer and fellowship with the Holy Spirit (2 Cor. 13:14).
The weakness of process
The problem lies in the time that it takes between our immaturity, brokenness, and weakness that marks the beginning of our journey and the power of God made perfect in our weakness as we persevere. Many believers long for (depending on their spiritual culture) that one “altar call” to be the moment in which God breaks into their lives dramatically and delivers them from all of their weakness. For others, it could be that one great counseling session, or that one great book that suddenly transforms their lives. This moment will never come. Christianity is not, and has never been, a glorified self-help program. Though the appeal for some is the invitation to go from weakness to strength, or messy to capable, gifted, awesome, and confident, Christianity is a far different invitation to the lost and broken.
In other words, the invitation of the gospel is a foolish one (1 Cor. 1:18): to gain everything later, one must lose everything now. We have the opportunity to go from broken, sinful weakness to voluntary weakness through the cross. We journey from insecurity and frustration with our faults and flaws to joy, peace, stability, and confidence not because we are healed of our flaws and made into an “uber-human” who no longer fails or stumbles in thought, word, and deed. We grow in confidence and joy when the reality of God’s great love and enjoyment of us in our weakness strikes our heart. We become emotionally stable, tender in heart, alive on the inside and filled with peace when we learn that we are loved and a lover of God from the first moment we said “yes” to His invitation to follow Him. If we do nothing else in life but rest in that knowledge, we have won.
Yet the invitation to become a true disciple involves taking that biblical insight and allowing it to empower confidence to follow Him all the days of our lives. The revelation of the tender love of Christ, the “love of God and the patience of Christ” (2 Thess. 3:5), gives us courage to pray always and not lose heart (Lk. 18:1) when we stumble in the journey. We can sign up for the weakness of the process of transformation on the inside that works its way to our outward man if we believe that He is tender and patient with us as we grope towards Him as young, new, weak disciples. In our weakness, we don’t draw strength from being a little more capable than the brother next to us. We draw strength from His fiery, committed, covenantal love that is willing to see the process through to the end, faithful to complete the good work that was begun within the very moment we said “yes” to Him.
Broken weakness to voluntary weakness
Once we embark on the journey of true discipleship, we give ourselves to a journey from initial immaturity, weakness, brokenness, foolishness, carnal thinking, darkened understanding, areas of habitual compromise, and unrestrained emotion (and emoting) to later maturity and temperance, or restraint in all things. In other words, we go from an ungoverned and unrestrained lifestyle (tempered by laws and social norms) to a self-governed and voluntarily restrained lifestyle (tempered by authentic love).
It is, of course, a very long process of training, learning, failing, and repenting. It is a process that takes our whole life (and more) to fully grasp and walk out. Jesus expressed this perfectly. True discipleship is the desire to do the same. Weak discipleship is the reality of our inability to do the same, or even grasp why we should at times. After all, who really signs up for “Christianity” under the banner of leaving, denying, forsaking, restraining, and fighting a war against the sinful passions of the heart every moment of every day of our lives until we see Him face to face? Who desires to say no to the things of this world that feed our brokenness, weakness, and carnality to walk out a lifestyle of voluntary weakness that includes praying (saying things to God that He tells us to tell Him), fasting (not eating, getting physically weak, tired, and grumpy), serving (doing things for others that you would rather they do for you), giving (possibly making a ton of money that you never spend on your pleasures, but rather give away like mad), and forgiving (laying down your personal rights when mistreated and actually hoping, at times, justice isn’t done to right a wrong done to you).
It takes great strength to choose weakness. It is one of the most difficult journeys anyone could choose to begin. It is one of the costliest decisions one could make. It is the way of the Master, the brilliance of His leadership - He made the bar high and the cost great to sift and sort through the many reasons and hidden ambitions of those who would say “yes” to an invitation to authentic, weak discipleship. Saying “yes” was meant to be hard to do. Staying in that continual “yes” was meant to be harder still. Yet, what options do we have? Saying “no” is ultimately much more difficult a journey to take, and the cost of refusal even greater. For in the grace of God, His commandments are not burdensome, but they are life to the soul and blessing to the faithful.
This is what twelve young adults found out for themselves, nearly 2000 years ago.
Next: We actually talk about the Gospel of Mark.
David
April 15th, 2008
In beginning this latest series, I want to make clear that the “weakness” of discipleship does not refer to the practice itself as a weak endeavor. Rather, I am referring to Mark’s examination of the messiness of true discipleship through the lens of the weakest men to ever say “yes” to Jesus. The subject of weakness as a whole has captivated me over the past month, for reasons that will hopefully unfold with clarity as I return to a regular writing, study, and prayer schedule. So, when I speak here of the weakness of discipleship I am speaking of personal weakness and the pursuit of Christlike righteousness, holiness, and perspective.
Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown…
To say “yes” to follow and become like someone else is an intensely frustrating undertaking. An elite athlete is still subject to the system of the coach, and must submit his personal preferences to the will of his leader. He or she must subdue and restrain their incredible gifts and talents in a manner that allows for the rest of the “symphony” to function in tight harmony. These realities of team life separate championship teams from merely successful ones. Thus a once in a generation athlete like Michael Vick was forced to labor in vain while another once in a generation star such as Michael Jordan won multiple championships. The former had incredible gifts but ended the careers of multiple coaches, all of whom failed to convince Vick that the team’s success meant personal restraint. For the “running quarterback” to win, he simply had to choose not to run.
Such a weekly act of discipline proved to great a task - in the end, for Vick, the ego proved too great an obstacle. In Jordan’s case, the ego was a far greater force - rarely has any sport seen arrogance, anger, and inflated ego, despite what the sneaker commercials presented. Yet, in the end, he was confronted with the weakness of subduing his ego and restraining his abilities to allow his teammates to flow and participate with one plan that flowed from head coach rather than his ability to get past the man defending him. What Jordan found was that, when his teammates were uninvolved and outside of the natural “flow” of movement that constitutes a healthy offensive strategy, there was always another defender to have to beat. One on five is always impossible, as Jordan found out dramatically in 1986 when he scored 63 points against the Boston Celtics, one of the greatest teams of that era, and still lost the playoff series.
This would be Jordan’s lot for the next five years - singular greatness overshadowed by devastating playoff losses. The accusations began to multiply and the pressure began to increase - all of which were great blows to his ego. He finally came to understand that true greatness was not knit to individual brilliance but team success. Thus, he bought into a larger plan, or system of play, which was predicated more on passing and movement. This system required that someone else initiate the plan; at times, it moved the ball through the center (who, on those teams, was often the most unskilled player on the team), and it reacted to the defense rather than barreling into the teeth of five opposing elite athletes.
This, of course, was hard for Jordan to buy into. Why? His greatest issue, other than trusting his head coach, was trusting his teammates to make sound decisions. Early on in his career, they had not. Yet, his own efforts were proving fruitless and thus he was left with little choice in the matter. To win, he had to restrain himself and allow his teammates to assert themselves. The key to Jordan’s success was not that he learned to do this 100% of the time, rather, for him success was found in adhering to this principle 75% of the time. As a once-in-a-lifetime superstar, he felt he had earned the ability to deviate from the plan and assert himself in certain key moments. Still, for Jordan, restraining himself for to allow for authentic team dynamics at that level proved enough to win six championships over the next ten years.
As Paul said, in 1 Corinthians 9:25-28: “Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate (restrained) in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown. Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air. But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.”
Infinite Power Tempered Every Day For 33 Years
The ultimate display of restraint, however, was found in the earthly ministry of Jesus 2000 years ago. What Jesus is asking of us, He modeled to perfection: He demonstrated the wisdom of power restrained, or “meekness”. While the ego and arrogance of man makes true meekness seemingly impossible, the desire of Jesus to make Himself “of no reputation” made meekness attractive. It is stunning to imagine that Jesus can make something that men find weak, foolish, and contemptible attractive as we begin to walk according to the Spirit rather than our own understanding and sensibilities.
For even what Michael Jordan did in restraining his own power was for his own sake - as is the case with every athlete who competes for a prize apart from God. Yet Jesus did it for no glory or reward of His own, but for the glory of His Father. He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death - even the death of the cross. He humbled Himself, in other words, to the point of personal humiliation for the sake of the exaltation of His Father and the interests of the saints. Who would willingly and wholeheartedly suffer great anguish and humiliation for the sake of others, with no thought of personal gain? I want to pour out my life while maintaining as much personal dignity as possible. Jesus, on the other hand, made Himself of no reputation 33 years before the cross!
In other words, how humiliating could the cross have been in comparison to “taking on the form of a bondservant” and “coming in the likeness of men”? After all, He did not consider it robbery to be equal with God. What did this mean? It meant, for 33 years, Jesus joyfully stuck with the plan of His “coach” rather than baptizing the earth with fire according to His “distress” (Lk. 12:50). It meant, for 33 years, the greatest revivalist in history stayed mostly hidden, and, during His 3 1/2 public ministry years, mostly in the outskirts of His own nation. Imagine a modern revivalist operating in signs and wonders conducting their ministry primarily in North Dakota and Montana rather than the cities and the population centers?
It meant, for 33 years, always having the right answer in every conversation but mostly letting everyone else speak. It meant allowing His earthly father to teach Him carpentry, when His resume included “stretching out the heavens like a curtain” and “laying the beams of His upper chambers in the waters” (Ps. 104:2-3). It meant that most of the things He preached and taught were misunderstood and misinterpreted (Isa. 6:9-10) - even by those most loyal to Him (Mk. 6:52). Can you imagine knowing that almost every sermon you would ever preach would not be heard? As a preacher, I naturally gauge my success by the response of the congregation - Jesus was faced with a people that were continually astonished and amazed by His teaching, yet astonishingly unresponsive and dull. John the Baptist had the same problem (Matt. 11:17).
The dilemma of discipleship
How can I be like One who was so given with understanding that is so alien to my own? Why did Jesus do the things that He did - what was He thinking? How can my thinking be formed in a similar manner?
Thus, the great problem of my life can be summed up like this: true discipleship means that I have to follow in the footsteps of the One I love and desire to obey. It means that I have to buy into His mindset, and a never-ending series of “whys” behind His “what”. I have to love what He loves, and hate what He hates. The weakness of my pursuit, of course, is this:
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,So are My ways higher than your ways,And My thoughts than your thoughts.”
- Isaiah 55:8-9
It is, on the surface, an impossible proposition - a preposterous invitation. We have been invited to embark on a journey that begins with our sincere “yes” and ends with a complete transformation that helps us reason and choose in like manner to the One who is discipling us. The Master has invited us to follow Him, and thus we are to deny ourselves and take up a cross in the great exchange. The question has been asked - what would a man give in exchange for his soul? The answer is found in the life of the Man who gave up everything to gain everything. To follow, I also must be crucified in Christ. While this sounds noble, I must confess that the outworking of this in my own life is so unglamourously awkward and foolish that it’s a wonder I am still saved.
Thankfully, nowhere is this dilemma more pronounced and precisely expressed than in the Gospel of Mark. The weakness of trying to emulate transcendent perfection, an other-worldly mindset and value system that my own sensibilities disagree with a good percentage of the time, is best examined through the lens of a group of young guys who were just like me. They were sincere, zealous, and passionate. They were also weak, foolish, ambitious, selfish, and often filled with unbelief. This is the portrait that Mark paints for us. The impossibility of what we are trying to do is often humorously described by Mark, who desired to give simple men like me hope that with God, all things are possible.
David
April 14th, 2008
The short answer is: losing and then getting “oil” in my inner man. Not that I have apprehended what I’m after to my satisfaction, but I’ve spent the last week attempting to rest in the place of prayer and fasting and reorient myself again to pursue “one thing” above all else. I’ve missed you all, though!
I’ll be back next week with new material.
For those who are curious, I’m still grinding away at my latest book. I hope to be finished with the initial writing stage in the next few weeks. It’s been far more frustrating and exacting than I thought - but in the process of working through the new book, I reformatted and expanded the course book from my Biblical Foundations of Eschatology class - it now clocks in at a whopping 280 pages. Not that a page count is anything in and of itself, but it represents an end result that is a bit more comprehensive and helpful (and thus more personally satisfying) in my opinion.
Have a great weekend!
David
April 11th, 2008
I’m in the mood this morning to continue last week’s Danny Hibberd love-fest. The reason will be obvious in a moment. For those of you who don’t know Danny, he’s one of our stalwart nightwatchers and media guys who also happens to be a rock-solid theologian. If Danny and Matt Hartke aren’t careful, they might end up becoming two of the premiere apologists around. Matt, because of his scholarly examinations of scripture that fry the brain and warm the heart; and Danny for his incredibly quick and insightful mind for the arguments and their strengths and weaknesses. I so enjoy the way these guys think.
Well, Danny and I moderate a Bible Forum elsewhere on the web - I’m “the rookie” and he’s “Bing”. It’s a fairly large forum where we can test our theological mettle against different tender-hearted but sharp thinkers who love to debate the bible. I jumped in a few years back to sharpen my language and learn to say what I believe without a ton of IHOP terminology that can sometimes be difficult for new folks to follow. I recruited a bunch of fellow end-times junkies to jump in as well - and a few of them (including Danny) hung around for a while. I’m glad he did. Here’s a small sampling as to why:
“Friend, I will truncate your post here, because from this point it embarks on a misguided tangent, in which you believe you have successfully diagnosed my problem. You seem to believe me to be a comic book Christian, with photos of world leaders upon my wall, each a candidate in my conspiracy-driven mind to be the Antichrist. I have a vegetable garden and a shotgun prepared for the end times. I am scared of Europe. I have a bag of dust from the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, and I invest in programmes to breed red heifers, so I can sacrifice them when the temple is rebuilt. I have a shofar.
“The eschatalogical filter through which I view the Bible does not lead me to any of these things - though I wish the best of luck to those who do. I do not look for obscure passages in order to take them out of context and apply them to the latest from FOX News. I look instead at unfulfilled promises that God has made - promises that the entire world should be filled with His glory. Promises that the Jewish people will one day turn to Him in the person of Christ Jesus, and adore Him. Promises that He will come to vindicate His saints. Promises of the new creation. I find these liberally slathered through both Testaments, and they form - as Paul says they ought - my blessed hope - that is, the glorious appearing of the Great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.”
If you didn’t appreciate those two paragraphs, maybe you’ll like this one, shared earlier in his conversation with a guy who was (if you hadn’t caught it) exasperated that anyone would ever study the end-times:
“While I am a little hazy on what precisely ‘thinking…like this‘ actually is, it is evidently my own good fortune not to be a member of your particular denomination.”
I thought that was great, if you hadn’t guessed. I am the unashamed president of the Danny Hibberd Fan Club.
David
March 25th, 2008
I want to pose a critical question that really should challenge me to the core of who I am and what it even means to be a Christian at the end of the age. My point is not that I want to give this challenge, but that Jesus Himself did, two thousand years ago. He raised the bar towards the end of the Beatitudes, when He invited us to become “peacemakers”. Jesus had something in mind when He spoke those words that goes well beyond how traditional theological streams define the blessing that comes to a peacemaker. It was His stated intention and awesome promise that those who lay hold of this heart reality would be called sons of God.
Five hundred years of Protestant theology has taught us to think of this phrase in the “positional” sense, as an aspect of our identity that is “automatic” or bestowed to us in the moment of our new birth. The moment we said “yes” to Jesus as Lord and Savior is the moment we became “born again” into the family of God. “Behold,” John spoke in his first letter as he meditated on this stunning truth, “what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God” (1 John 3:1)! John continues to develop this awesome sentence in a manner that was meant to provide insight into the manner in which God views us as he emphasizes, “Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is” (1 John 3:2).
It’s a breathtaking statement that gives the believer a concrete definition of their present position before God as well as a future glimpse into the implications of that position. John’s words were meant to give us both confidence and hope. So I agree that to primarily view our identity as a son of God in a positional manner is correct and beneficial to our growth in God. Yet the scriptures consistently speak of the “already, but not yet” manner in which Jesus establishes His kingdom promises. Thus Peter could be called a “rock” of steadiness long before it was actually true of him. The kingdom of God was at hand in the days of the first advent, but the fullness of what Jesus proclaimed was yet to come. This is why John concludes his statement about our identity as chldren of God with this: “And everyone who has this hope in Him purifies Himself, just as He is pure” (1 John 3:3).
In other words, John understood that there is more to being a “child of God” than simply a positional reality at the new birth or theological statement of identity regardless of our lifestyle. John identifies our coming transformation as a future hope that must stir us into present holiness and purity. In other words, one can be in the family, yet not be a true spiritual son. A true son is not satisfied with the designation of sonship, but longs to be found in truth as one in whom God is “well-pleased” as we live before Him. A true son longs to be like his father—just as Jesus wanted to reflect His Father in heaven. Jesus did not simply call Himself a Son of the Living God, nor did He appeal to His identity as the Second Person of the Trinity. He actually embodied and exemplified the meekness and humility of His Father as a true and authentic Son—and thus the Father was well-pleased with Him.
This same princple holds true with the modern concept of “spiritual fathers” and “spiritual sons” that at times oversimplifies and waters down the high and rigorous call on those who endeavor to be one of those two things. Many want to be a father or a son—but it takes more than simply having an older man spend time talking about life with a younger man. It takes more than a younger man “carrying the bags” of an older man and making his life and ministry work better, while learning a few tips along the way.
To be a true spiritual father, one must have a rich inheritance in God to give to a true son. There are few true spiritual fathers around the nation today. Few give themselves to a life and pursuit of the things of God that ignite a fire in the inner man. Few are willing to endure the demands of such a life in God, to go somewhere in paving the way that others could emulate and follow. Even fewer are willing to do so in a manner that is exceedingly generous in spirit, in order that true sons could be (and would be) actually given the inheritance by a father who is not concerned with personal gain or honor, but longs to honor his sons.
Again, so much of what passes for “spiritual fathering” today involves older men and women in ministry that are happy for gifted young adults to make their lives and ministries better. While I appreciate training and leadership development, this is not really “spiritual fathering”. Other times, this false reality is expressed in a relationship based mostly on entertainment without God’s purpose at the center. What is the issue? It is common and assumed as a right that is automatic by young and old alike without first exhibiting faithfulness. The spirit of entitlement often sets the culture of a ministry in a wrong place, hindering the process of fathering.
A spiritual father, first of all, must be faithful to God in order to be ministries with substance in God that young people are provoked to imitate. Spiritually boring older people will not be able to function as spiritual fathers; rather, they must have something to give. The test of a leader is to look behind to see if anyone is following you. If no one is following you, then another cannot make you a spiritual leader.
As Paul said, “It is required in stewards [fathers & children] that one be found faithful” (1 Corinthians 4:2). This works both ways in the concept of “spiritual fathering”—the reason for its rarity is also found in the corresponding need for faithfulness in the “children” as well. For sons or daughters to have a spiritual father requires that they be faithful, teachable and “able”, or gifted, who are committed to reproduce in others. Paul talked about this in regards to Timothy - who was one of the only men Paul called a “son” (Titus being the other) in all the years he ministered:
The things that you have heard from me…commit…to faithful men who will be able [gifted] to teach others also. (2 Timothy 2:2)
For I have no one like-minded, who will sincerely care for your state. For all seek their own…You know [Timothy’s] proven character, that as a son with his father he served with me in the gospel. (Philippians 2:20-22)
Paul lamented the lack of young men who were “like-minded”, which speaks of a faithfulness related to the scriptures and kingdom values that Paul embraced and embodied in life. There had to be follow-through on the part of his potential sons by which they gave themselves faithfully to the labors of Paul. As Paul prayed, fasted, taught, and lived, so those who endeavored to be a son to him had to do the same. This rarely happens! The result is that spiritual fathering is not very common because of the low numbers of faithful older people linked up to faithful younger people.
I have shared a little bit about what true spiritual fathering is, but not much about what a true father does. That is beyond the scope of this discussion - and beyond the scope of Matthew 5:8. The core issue is this - many want to rest in their identity as a child of God, yet few want to labor in faithfulness to be found blameless at His coming (1 Cor. 1:8), or confident and unashamed at His coming (1 John 2:28), having been perfected in love (1 John 4:17). Because my hope lies in the completion of His work in me, I purify myself - just as He is pure.
Why? I want to be like Him. I yearn to be a true son to my Father in heaven. There is much that He will give me as a member of His family, but I believe that He will give more, both today and tomorrow, to those who are found faithful. The parable of the talents in Matt. 25:14-30 bears this out as true. I am not satisfied with a positional reality—I want to labor for internal and external reality as one who is called a “son of God”. I want to be authentic, and authentically like Jesus. I want my lilfe to be a reflection of what matters to Him and what He values. I want all of my heart attitudes to exude godliness and holiness. This is what I believe is knit to the heart attitude of the “peacemaker”; the one who is able to bring reconciliation will be known as an authentic son of God, through and through.
David
March 24th, 2008
Now to the part of the original question that was most assuredly the actual “meat” of the issue that was raised. If you haven’t read the first parts of the series, you may want to do so before proceeding. This subject, however, diverges in many ways from the crux of the issue as extravagant devotion translates into extravagant lifestyles, as I said in my last post on the subject. Mary of Bethany’s act of devotion was not the fruit of a random burst of emotion or wave of appreciation for Jesus. It was the fruit of years of attentiveness and connection to where the story of His life was headed. Her extravagant devotion in the moment, in other words, was the fruit of years of devotion and extravagance that culminated in the “memorial” that would forever honor her choices and her love.
Thus the issue of the day - how does one navigate extravagant expressions of devotion in the worship service?
Man looks at the outward appearance
It is noteworthy related to my paradigm of extravagance that I consider extravagant devotion to Jesus “showing up” and “not quitting”. Opening up one’s mouth to sing or pray most of the time counts, too, I would think. In other words, one cannot measure extravagance by outward appearance. This is how man judges, and God made clear to Samuel the prophet that the inward reality, or the heart of a man, is the far better measuring rod in the manner that we define extravagance.
Thus I am rarely moved by the outward, momentary burst of devotion unless it comes in context to the life of one who has a long history of perseverance and consistency in devotion to Jesus. The one who shouts and dances in the front for a few prayer meetings is neat, but I tend to watch for consistency. In other words, if “that guy” is still dancing ten years later with a heart filled with true joy, (meaning, “that guy” is truly joyful in other contexts of ministry and relationship) then I will be impressed.
This is a critical paradigm for me because of the manner in which some in the modern Charismatic stream today consider boisterous demonstrations of worship and praise the mark of a healthy meeting. If the congregation is subdued, some are troubled. Where is the noise, the activity, and the shouting? While I appreciate those things, and by no means have a heart to shut any of those expressions out of the worship mix (in fact, dancing, shouting, and clapping were accepted and encouraged parts of the Old Testament worship service), I can’t use those measures to gauge the “success” or effectiveness of a meeting. I have a heart to produce something different in someone’s life than outward exuberance.
Pray and do not lose heart
Luke 18:1, in my thinking, establishes the context for a life of faith: “men ought to pray always and not lose heart”. I define “always” in the same manner as Paul the Apostle: “without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17). As E.M. Bounds once said, the man who prays stops sinning while the man who sins stops praying. Thus my goal is to walk in continual fellowship and communion with Christ by walking in the Spirit - if I do so Paul assures me that I will not fulfill the lust of the flesh. So many of the apostolic prayers of the New Testament are prayers for perseverance, endurance, and strength or grace from God for the journey we are on. The pursuit of righteousness fully expressed in my life demands an extravagant pursuit of God in the place of prayer and worship.
Thus extravagance in worship can be defined in a manner that transcends personality. The introvert and the extrovert, the right-brained and the left-brained, the creative and the logical can all enter in with equal footing into a pursuit of holiness and wholeheartedness that flows from the grace and power of God and not our will or personal exuberance. The definition shifts from hand-clapping, flag waving, shouting and tears to consistency, faith, hope, and love flowing from the deepest parts in a manner that translates into long-term obedience to the commands of God. Obedience is extravagant.
I don’t mind flag waving, by the way
I recognize flag-waving, shofar-blowing, shouting and clapping worship services for what they are: a place for like-minded personalities to gather and express their excitement for Jesus in a manner that fits their internal makeup. This truth, even more than doctrinal differences, tends to define how, why, and where people gather to worship together in different spiritual cultures. So much of our Christianity is cultural - more than we realize. Knit to our cultural expressions of love and devotion to Jesus is our natural propensity to believe that the way we do it, who we do it with, and where we do it is the best and most superior place for anyone to be.
Problems often arise in the collision of two or more spiritual cultures. Spiritual pride, religious opinions, or the error of “self-preference” can emerge by which we elevate in an unbiblical way cultural elements of worship. It is not helpful to magnify our expression of worship as the superior expression. Often there are no biblical restrictions to these expressions - yet neither is there a biblical mandate that all must worship in the manner they imagine is best. What is the answer? This is where humility, love, service, and 1 Corinthians 12-14 must come into the picture. Sometimes people who are excessively exuberant in a worship service express themselves in this manner because of the above factors working within their understanding.
Sometimes people don’t really think about what they are doing, and default to what they have always done. Rarely does someone from an exuberant worship culture lay aside their personal preference to consider the people around them. Yet it is equally as rare that someone responds negatively when asked to do so. I find that people do what they have always done until someone invites them into a better option, or as Paul put it, “a more excellent way”. This more excellent way (1 Cor. 13), in context, was about love for the corporate body in a worship gathering - and not just love in the general sense. Paul was using the biblical definition of love to establish a worship culture that majored on considering the big picture and the heart of God rather than exalting individual rights and personal preference.
A paradigm of serving rather than being served
This is why one would be hard-pressed to find flag-waving, shofar-blowing, distracting behavior in our prayer room on a day-to-day basis. In the collision of spiritual cultures, we must labor to find the expression of worship that is most conducive to long-term perseverance in prayer. The prayer meetings, in their primary function, exist to minister to the Lord. The worship aspect of the prayer meeting exists to enable the people to persevere longer in the place of prayer together. It’s not really mystical - it’s very practical in nature. It is important to keep in mind that components of the prayer meeting and the worship service are built to serve the people by facilitating “enjoyable prayer”. They are not a platform for anyone to come in and become the center of the meeting. God must be the central figure that dominates the meetings, not the individual.
In one sense, the Corinthian church was formed as much by their Greek culture as it was by biblical principles. Paul really didn’t have this kind of problem in the more Hebraic (and thus holistic and communal by nature) churches he planted. It wasn’t until he came to Greece via Macedonia (after being driven out of Berea) that he encountered the individualistic mindset that characterized the Corinthian church. It was every man (and woman) for himself, at times under the guise of the “unction of the Spirit”. Thus Paul had to introduce or reinforce biblical concepts that transcended their cultural understanding and proclivities; particularly in the manner in which they were disrupting corporate life.
In other words, the Corinthians had to learn to serve one another in love rather than looking to be served in the corporate meeting. Those that hammer the Charismatic church on the 1 Cor. 14:40 verse (”Let all things be done decently and in order.”) would do well to keep in mind that it took Paul three chapters and 84 verses to make his point related to sowing values patiently before stating his conclusion. Secondly, they would do well to keep in mind just how “out of order” these Corinthians were in the manner in which they disrupted the meetings self-centeredly without love. With that in mind, Paul was brought correction where needed (”the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets”, or, you really can govern the prophetic “unction” in a loving way that serves the big picture). He also brought vision where needed.
Where did it land? In my opinion, Paul was not against exuberant expressions of devotion in a worship gathering; he was looking to curtail unhelpful or uneccesarily distracting expressions of devotion. This is what we do at IHOP-KC, particularly related to our prayer meetings. If someone is behaving or worshiping in a manner that is making it difficult for the people around them to engage or participate in the prayer meeting, we will ask them (kindly) to move to the back of the room if they wish to continue. We invite them to consider the people around them in love related to the manner in which they are worshiping Jesus. Often, this is enough to help someone walk in a more excellent manner related to the people that populate our prayer meetings from all over the world - not just their corner of it.
I find that most are very sincere and very devoted to serving - and they truly had no idea that they were acting in a manner that was unhelpful to others. A few, who were looking for attention, often stop altogether when asked to go to the back (where no one is looking at them). Even fewer choose to buck against the system and press their rights - due to the manner in which they were looking to make a statement or a point in the first place. We kindly ask these folks to leave.
All are called to the place of extravagant pursuit of Jesus, in prayer, worship, and lifestyle. For this season of church history, there is no mandate that we do so in the same room.
David
March 21st, 2008
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