Tag Archives: Epistle

Carolyn Moore ~ Spirit-Filled Ministry: “I Forgot How Big”

Do you mind if we drive around a bit in the Word? I’d like to show you some points of interest that changed the way I understand Spirit-filled ministry. If you need to set your GPS, we’re going to start in 2 Timothy, where we’ll pick up a three-letter key. Then we’ll stop in Luke 9 for a map and we’ll stop for gas in Matthew 8.

That’s where someone is going to ask us: “Have you forgotten how big?”(Remember that question.) And so you won’t have to ask, “Are we there yet?” we’ll be ready to come home to the Holy Spirit when we hear Jesus telling his disciples to stay right where they are until they receive power from on high.

In 2 Timothy 4:5 (NIV), I find a three-letter word that seems remarkably poignant for ministry. In this passage, of course, Paul is talking to his friend, Timothy, who he’s mentoring in the ministry and he says this: “But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.”

Until recently, the word I’ve always latched onto in that passage is the word, “evangelist.” My first semester at Asbury, a wonderful evangelist from Australia (Alan Walker) came to speak in chapel. And I went home that night and told my husband, “I want to be an evangelist.” Of course, I had no clue what I was saying. At the time, I thought evangelism was preaching a good message and giving an effective altar call. Or possibly memorizing the four spiritual laws or the Roman Road or working the Evangicube. Or putting tracts in a public bathroom or adding a line to the end of every email that says, “If you love Jesus, forward this to ten friends.”

(I knew a guy who was a genius at asking the ultimate evangelism question – you know the one – “If you die tonight, do you know where you’ll go?” He worked out at the Y every morning, and he said he’d usually wait until he was in the sauna alone with someone – nothing but towels on – and that’s when he’d pop the question.)

I thought that was evangelism and while that may be part of it (though probably not the more effective part), Paul challenges me to think deeper. Here in his letter to Timothy, Paul challenges Timothy to discharge ALL the duties of his ministry. That’s the word that jumped out at me: all. What a loaded three-letter word! It feels like that line at the end of a job description— the one that says, “other duties as assigned.” You don’t find out until you take the job that the “other duties as assigned” take about 40 hours of your work week.

What Paul is trying to tell his first-century audience and also me is that evangelism is a package deal. It is preaching and acts of mercy. Word and works. To do the work of an evangelist, we have to discharge all the duties of ministry. Thomas Fuller, a Puritan, once said that the words of the wise are like nails fastened by masters, but our examples are like the hammers that drive them in. Word and works. In other words, what good is a bucketful of nails if you’ve got no hammer?

I think I found those “other duties as assigned” in the first couple of verses of Luke, chapter 9. This is where Jesus sends out the twelve to do evangelism, and here’s how he defines that little word. Luke 9:1-2 says, When Jesus had called the Twelve together, he gave them power and authority to drive out all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to preach the kingdom of God and to heal the sick.

So when Jesus gave normal people the power and authority to do evangelism, here’s how he defined that little word “all.” He sent them to drive out demons, cure diseases, preach the Kingdom of God, and heal the sick. Because this is how Jesus believed the Kingdom of God could best be explained. Word and works. Just like Jesus did it; that’s the job description.

To flesh that out, go back to Matthew, chapter 8. This is an amazing chapter, actually — a fireworks display of healing. Right off the bat, Jesus heals a man with leprosy, and by touching him, he heals him all the way through. Then he meets up with a centurion who came to him, asking for help. “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed and in terrible suffering.” Jesus said to him, “I will go and heal him.” The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was astonished and said to those following him, “I tell you the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith…Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! It will be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that very hour. (Matthew 8:5-10, 13)

Now, contrast this guy’s faith with something that happens just a few paragraphs down in the same chapter of Matthew. They’ve been healing people and casting out demons and now Jesus has crawled in a boat just to get away from the crowd for a bit. To take a nap. The followers and Jesus are all there in a boat crossing a lake when a furious storm crops up and scares the heck out of his disciples. Jesus is sleeping, of course, so they wake him and that’s when he says, “Oh, you of little faith, why are you so afraid?”

Picture this: On one hand we’ve got a handful of guys who make their living evangelizing and they are scared to death and faithless. On the other hand, we’ve got your average Joe Centurion who actually knows nothing for sure, except his need. And the power of God.

I understand these people better than I want to admit. I know what it means to become so focused on the work and the politics and the systems and the next big book that’s going to tell us how to really do it right, that I can forget what Jesus is capable of and why he’s filled me with the Holy Spirit and what he’s called me to do. Somehow (I’m sure this is not the correct theological language), it seems like the Spirit leaks out. Or maybe I push him out. I know it has happened when I find myself telling God how big my storm is, rather than telling my storm how big my God is.

Does this sound familiar?

My daughter says I can trace every sermon point back to a scene from Joe Vs. the Volcano. I don’t know if that’s true, but there is this scene in Joe vs. the Volcano. It comes after they’ve survived a typhoon and a shipwreck and they are stranded on a raft in the middle of the Pacific. They’ve been through so much, and now Joe is as close to death as it gets. And that’s when he remembers. He is on his raft facing the moon as it rises over the horizon of the water. It is huge and just there before him, almost as if it could be touched. Joe is delirious, and for him this moon is something supernatural — perhaps even God himself. As the moon rises, Joe sinks slowly to his knees, places both arms in the air and says, “Thank you. Thank you for my life. I forgot …how …BIG …”

How easy it is, in the midst of ministry, to forget how big. All the hoops we jump through and all the personalities we juggle can sap the joy right out. Before we know it, we’ve forgotten just what it is we signed on for, and just how big our God is. Have you forgotten how big? I wonder how it might change the spiritual atmosphere if we could all just put our hands in the air and confess together, “God, I forgot how big!”

My experience after fifteen years of ministry and the start of two congregations is that the only thing standing between me and complete burn-out is not success, but the power of God. It is the power of God that saves me from myself. And make no mistake about it: until we get the bigness of God, we won’t be qualified to discharge the “other duties as assigned.” All the duties of ministry. To cast out demons, cure diseases, proclaim the Kingdom, heal the sick. Because that’s what they are hungry for, these people who come limping into our faith communities. And clearly, this is the work of ministry Jesus expected of his followers.

But here’s the shame of it. The very things Jesus sent his followers out to do are the very things we’ve lost faith in. In fact, our culture has come to accept an hour in church and a blessing before meals as the center of the Christian experience, while driving out demons and curing diseases…well, that’s just weird. But folks, when I read in my Bible what Jesus did and then read what he teaches followers to do, this is what I hear: that followers have power and authority to drive out demons, cure diseases, proclaim the coming Kingdom and heal things that destroy people’s lives. This is the center of the Gospel, and the power of it!

I once visited with a pastor who serves a downtown church. We talked about a mission center he was asking his church to develop for their community and he said, “Some of our people don’t get what we’re doing. And I tell them, ‘If you knew Jesus better, you’d get it.’” He went on. “I’m trying to get my people to meet Jesus, so they’ll get it.” Because when we get Jesus, we get what it means to follow him. And as we follow, we find ourselves more and more in the company of the broken-hearted, the blind, the poor, the prisoners — even those oppressed by demonic forces. People who are hungry for healing, and who need spiritual leaders who have a heart for healing — not because we’re that big-hearted, but because God is that big.

This is where most of us need to glance at our spiritual GPS. We understand the destination, but how do we get there from here? Jesus maps it out plainly to his followers in the last chapter of Luke, even using Paul’s powerful three-letter word. There he is, standing with his friends after the resurrection and he says, “Yes, it was written long ago that the Messiah would suffer and die and rise from the dead on the third day. It was also written that this message would be proclaimed in the authority of his name to all the nations, beginning in Jerusalem: ‘There is forgiveness of sins for all who repent.’” And then Jesus says – listen to this: “You are witnesses of all these things. And now I will send the Holy Spirit, just as my Father promised. But (and this is the punchline) stay here in the city until the Holy Spirit comes and fills you with power from heaven.” (Luke 24:46-49, NLT)

Here’s the secret: don’t leave here until the Holy Spirit comes and fills you with power from heaven. This seems too simplistic to be enough, but it is a critical piece. The fact is, Jesus’ Church has met its quota of pastors who can get the bulletin printed, follow an order of worship and preach three points and a poem. But the Kingdom Church is starving — and “the fields are white” — for Spirit-filled followers who are willing to do all the work of an evangelist.

Whether you are worn out or burned out, you owe it to yourself and your sense of call to find a place of prayer, then shake the gates of heaven asking for the Holy Spirit to come and fill you, or fill you again.

Don’t leave that place until your heart aches again for those who are hungry for healing and waiting for someone to come, who brings with them Holy-Spirit power to cast out demons, cure diseases, proclaim the Kingdom and heal the sick. Don’t let go of the hem of Jesus’ garment you until you’ve received that. After all, what good is a bucketful of nails if you’ve got no hammer?

For more reflection from Dr. Moore, check out her Art of Holiness podcast here. This piece from the archives originally appeared on Wesleyan Accent in 2014.

Featured image courtesy Joshua Earle on Unsplash.

Edgar Bazan ~ Racism & Bias: We All Suffer

For 400 years, through slavery, lynching, Jim Crow laws, the Civil Rights movement, and institutionalized racism, people of color (especially within the Black community) have been fighting and crying out for justice and equality. Justice is sought because they have been oppressed and abused for centuries; equality, because that is the underlying cause of their unjust treatment: they have been seen and treated as lesser humans because of the color of their skin.

I am a Mexican-American immigrant, and although my experience is not the same as Black Americans’ experiences, on some levels I can relate to the viciousness shown them. It is not uncommon to hear stories of people like me who have been told to, “go back to Mexico.” As upsetting as I find this, it makes me sad, for it reflects the failure of a society to nurture individuals that treat one another with respect and dignity.

As a pastor who serves a diverse and bilingual community, I will speak to these dynamics of prejudice that are persistently based on race, language, and economic and education levels. In all of this, the pervasive reality is that some people are inclined to judge others based on external factors. These judgments come with labels, and these labels add or subtract value to people.

For example, it is not unusual when I meet new people and introduce myself as a pastor, that they say: “so you are the associate pastor of the Hispanic church.” I am not offended by the Hispanic label, of course; however, the underlying problem is the assumption that because I am Hispanic, I must be the Hispanic associate pastor serving people like me. To put this in context, how often do we hear about white pastors, “so you are the white pastor for the white people”? Most likely never.

I invite you to explore the implications of this. Labels carry value (or lack thereof), and those at the top usually do not have the same labels – often they are the ones who assign them to others. Bias is not always a loud offense; sometimes it has the form of rather subtle but heavy weight to keep people “in their place” — often assigned by those in positions of influence.

These acts and attitudes have pained and oppressed many people of color over the years — centuries — and it breaks God’s heart, for it is sinful: a way in which we fall short of the glory of God.

So what does the Bible say about racism and bias?

In Genesis 1:26, we find the following statement that gives us a theological framework from which to address racism: “Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…’” This scripture teaches us that God created every human being in God’s image. Every person measures the same amount of the glory of God in themselves. There is no distinction nor differences in the worth between one person or another. Whether one is white, black, brown, God loves all the same. In the Incarnation, God became flesh, embracing all colors, races, and ethnicities that make up the human race.

Racism, however, denies the image of God in humankind. It seeks to destroy God’s likeness in every person, both in those who invite and ignore racism, and in those who are the recipients of it, repudiating what God created and the way God created it. Therefore, the Bible teaches us that racism is incompatible with Christian teaching; it is sinful, for it denies the image of God in others and oppresses those who are the object of God’s self-giving love. Ultimately, it leads to the violation and denial of human rights, of justice, and of inherent human sacred worth.

Now, bias on the other hand, is a more subtle form that still leads to oppression. The apostle James makes a compelling case explaining bias and cautioning against it. In James 2:9, we read, “But if you show partiality [or bias], you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.” James was addressing an issue of showing special treatment to a particular person or persons based on their social standing. He illustrates this with a hypothetical scenario where two men come into a church gathering: one is rich and given the best seat in the house; the other is poor and asked to stand away or sit on the floor. The rich man is given privileges because of his wealth, but the poor man is despised because of his poverty. Such treatment, James says, is evil.

Although James addresses a particular issue of class discrimination, the principle helps us to address any and all other practices of bias, including those based on race. (It was not long ago that people of color could not sit on the front seats of a bus in America.) In many ways, this reality resembles a “caste system” in which hierarchical structures communicate to subjects, “you are not all equal,” and, “here is your label and place.” This has caused profound generational suffering and loss, including economic, cultural, and identity devastation for people of color and marginalized groups.

Many Americans would be appalled to think that such blatant partiality or bias that mirrors a “caste system” could exist in a country founded on the premise that, “all are created equal” and that, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” is a right for all people — the American Dream. Nevertheless, even as this nation of ours may create more economic opportunities for people than any other place, we continue to have deeply embedded unfair policies and attitudes, like “redlining.” There are policies that are discriminatory, unfair, and inconsistently applied, when rule of law and distribution of community resource give preferential treatment to some people over others.

Most of these harmful practices reflect a subtle yet hostile and derogatory way in which some people are communicated to be more of a liability, or more valuable, than others. This stigmatization wears on people emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. But if someone is spared these additional burdens, because of the sound of their name or the color of their skin, they don’t realize that they don’t have to prove themselves in the same way to get ahead in life, even if they’re born into poverty or other serious trauma, while others may have those struggles but also bear the additional burden of race-based bias and prejudice.

Have you ever observed how someone who is not white is often questioned about their capacity to accomplish a task? And if they do accomplish it, they are seen as an exception? The tragedy is that this is normalized and internalized by both sides: “we are more” and “we are less.” As a pastor, it breaks my heart when I hear young people begin to accept the labels and positions assigned to them, whether it is because of the color of their skin or their socio-economic status. It is heartbreaking to hear them settle for less than they dream, for less than they are capable of accomplishing as individuals, because their abilities, intelligence, or character are constantly questioned. These mental and emotional chains are heavy. To treat people in such a way is a terrible sin that plagued the early church and has continued to plague the church and society at large in every generation.

The apostle Paul, in talking about prejudice and favoritism in the church, wrote that, “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it” (1 Corinthians 12:26). Paul makes a compelling case about undermining the giftedness and value of people in our communities. By doing so, he says, we harm each other.

By now, I hope there is little doubt that we are called to face the pain, abuse, and oppression of a segment of our community that has been affected by racism and bias — “if one suffers, we all suffer together.” Not only that: the work towards eradicating unjust practices of racism and bias must be a top priority for followers of Jesus, not at all because of political affiliation or preferences, but because of our compelling faith in Jesus Christ, which is what James wrote: “because of your faith, you should not play favoritism but treat everyone as fellow brother and sister.”

My prayer is that the principle of “loving our neighbor as we love ourselves” will guide us (Matthew 22:39). Just as we care about our own needs, feelings, and desires, we must show the same care for the needs, feelings, and desires of others. So how can we foster and nurture communities (at church, home, work, school) where anyone is welcomed, respected, and treated with dignity?

We don’t need to have all the answers; we simply need to start asking the right questions from a place of compassion.

Featured image is an interior photo from the Don Bosco church in Brasilia, capital of Brazil. Photo credit: Vladimir Soares on Unsplash.

James Petticrew ~ Clearing Out the Hidden Guilt in your Soul

As a new cop (or probationer as we were called in Scotland), you are always given the worst jobs. Not long after I started my career as a police constable, my sergeant took me to a house where an old woman had been found dead. From the outside, the house looked impressive; it had once been a manager’s house for a huge Victorian mill that dominated the West Scotland town of Paisley. It had the air of Victorian respectability. I was not prepared for what lay on the other side of the front door: there was rubbish on every part of every inch of every floor over every floor in the house. The smell from the rubbish was overwhelming. We eventually waded through the rubbish to the kitchen. There, in a corner in a tiny bed, lay a little old lady who died in her sleep surrounded by the accumulated rubbish of her life.

I had to carry out an investigation. The neighbours said they rarely saw the lady but when they did, she was always happy and well-presented. She kept the small garden at the front of the house neat and tidy. But it was clear from inside that it had been years since she had thrown anything out. She just kept accumulating more and more rubbish in her house. Incidentally, I had to capture about six cats that lived among the rubbish; it wasn’t quite the glamorous and exciting police work I had anticipated.

Recently, I came across a comment from Canadian pastor Bruxy Cavey. It reminded me of that elderly lady, her house, and the smell of rubbish:

“What are you carrying around from your past? What guilt or garbage haunts you? What habit from your past or habit in your present causes you shame when you think about it? For some of us suppression, repression and denial are the only ways in which we can cope with another day. When we ignore our own sin, we are like people who store garbage in their basement. Sure, “out of sight, out of mind” works for a while but over time the pile builds up. We can try and live as though it doesn’t exist, and eventually we might become used to the rotten smell. But sooner or later someone will notice what we don’t, and our garbage will become known.”

How many people who gather in worship week by week have lives that are the spiritual equivalent of the house of that little old lady from Paisley, full of garbage from their past? People who keep everything respectable on the outside but who, on the inside, have a stinking mess of guilt, shame, and regret over sin in their souls?

This isn’t a new phenomenon. John talks to the church of his generation about it in his first letter.

^“If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:8-9)

John says it’s time to kiss the garbage in our lives goodbye: to be honest about its existence, to stop trying to hide the mess of guilt and shame from ourselves and others and do something about it. Back in Paisley, I had to arrange with the local council to bring cleaners to the elderly lady’s house, to literally disinfect and scrub it. John says when we acknowledge and admit our sin, instead of trying hide it away in our souls, Jesus does the same for us. Jesus “will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

The amazing thing I discovered about that lady back in Paisley who died in such squalor was that she had a very healthy bank account. She had had a good job, she never married, had no dependants, and didn’t spend very much, so her bank balance grew over the years. She had more than enough money to pay people to come in and do for her what perhaps she couldn’t do for herself: clean out her rubbish.

You probably realize where I am going with this. The promise here in God’s Word is that Jesus will do for us what we can’t do for ourselves: get rid of the garbage of sin from our lives. Jesus is in the cleansing, purifying business.

So why do we so often let the garbage of guilt and shame accumulate in our souls?

John says when we “come clean” about our sin to Jesus, he comes in to clean out our hearts and souls with the purifying disinfectant of forgiveness.

So, is there any garbage in your life that you have hidden from others – but that you can still smell? Jesus says it’s time to say goodbye to that garbage.

Ken Loyer ~ The Call to Graciousness

In elementary school, children learn about endangered species: those animals that have become so uncommon that their ongoing existence as a species is at risk. Endangered animals need special protection and care in order to have a chance of survival, growth, and flourishing. The challenge of endangered species brought to mind recently another domain of life: the virtues. I don’t know of any purely objective ways to measure whether certain virtues are at risk, but it seems to me that graciousness may be an endangered virtue, or headed in that direction.

At the very least, I am convinced that the virtue of graciousness is desperately needed today. We live in an increasingly fractured and polarizing world where signs of graciousness can be hard to find. Between the talking heads on TV and the near-incessant social media chatter (much of it snarky and mean-spirited), more and more our society has become a sound-bite society in which the loudest voice gets the most attention.

Sometimes the problem is not just that the world around us tends to be ungracious, but that even in the church, graciousness can be lacking. Ironically, graciousness can be lacking among those who claim the title “Christian,” when graciousness is supposed to be at the very heart of who we are as God’s people.

One recent study revealed that graciousness is nowhere near the top of the list of qualities people outside the church associate with the church. What tops that list are things quite different than graciousness. Many people share their impressions of Christians with words like “hypocritical,” “insensitive,” and “judgmental.” Whether these perceptions are accurate or not, they make it all the more difficult for us to reach people, especially young people.

The challenge for us in the church today is simply to be Christian: to be who we are, to live the love we profess. It’s possible for us to be people of deep faith and conviction who respect those who believe or act differently rather than mocking them. We have an answer for a broken and hurting world: the power of God’s grace for us, in us, and through us.

The answer is not cheap grace, but costly grace—and yet that is the way to true life. God’s grace is not cheap for God, for it cost Jesus everything he had, even his own life, which he freely gave up for us all.

God’s grace is not meant to be cheap for us either, but costly, costly and transformative. Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (Luke 9:23)

A Wesleyan accent on the heart of the Christian gospel could be what is especially needed today. Why? Because that approach offers a robust emphasis on God’s grace and what it produces in us, graciousness.

One of the most wonderful yet also confounding descriptions of a life of graciousness is found in Romans 12:

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ No, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:9-21)

These references to love, to humble, faithful service, and to peaceful actions even toward our enemies indicate that the Christian calling is certainly a high one. Some might say that such a standard is impractical if not altogether unattainable. Yet I see it differently: in the mystery of grace, this life is the one that God has called us to live. Jesus reminds us that what is impossible for us, in and of ourselves, is possible with God.

Consider today how we can graciously demonstrate the way of Christ throughout our communities and the wider world by a renewed commitment to discipleship according to Scripture and a fresh emphasis on the heart-renewing power of Jesus Christ. The marks of the Christian life—profound marks of graciousness—are ones that our world longs to see.

Graciousness may seem like an endangered virtue, but our connection to the source of that virtue makes graciousness a great privilege and responsibility to know and share in this hurting, hungry world.

Rev. Ken Loyer originally wrote these prescient words in 2013.

Featured image courtesy www.vecteezy.com.

James Petticrew ~ Squeezing Jesus Out of the Church

I’m coming back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about you,
It’s all about you, Jesus
I’m sorry, Lord, for the thing I’ve made it
When it’s all about you,
It’s all about you, Jesus

Some of you may have groaned when you read those words. Many congregations have sung that song to death for over a decade – but perhaps we did it because its words deeply resonated with a fundamental fact of our Christian walk and life as the Church: that the centrality and rule of Christ is something about which we need constant reminding.

I am a year back into pastoring, a year back into preaching regularly to a congregation, a year back into church leadership, a year back into trying to express God’s love to people. And a year on as I reflect on each of those areas and many others, I’m finding myself recalling Matt Redman’s words not as an expression of worship but all too often as a confession. I have come away from meetings, walked down from the pulpit on several occasions, and finished conversations thinking to myself:

I’m sorry, Lord, for the thing I’ve made it
When it’s all about you,
It’s all about you, Jesus

One the main lessons I’m relearning after being out of formal church leadership for a while is simply that church life so easily becomes about so many other things than Jesus, and as that happens our agendas, priorities, and busyness slowly squeeze Christ from the Body of Christ. When Christ is squeezed from the Body of Christ church becomes “all about” other things: budgets, people and their problems and feelings, my self-esteem as a pastor, the quality of weekly worship music, song choice – just about everything except Jesus. I’m not naive enough to claim that some of these things aren’t important in church life; but I am coming to realize that when church life is all about those things, it ceases to be the Church and doesn’t have much life in it. When Christ is squeezed from the Body of Christ by our own priorities and agenda as a congregation or through our busyness as leaders or disciples, what is left is little more than a corpse masquerading as a church.

While thinking about the way in which Jesus so easily gets sidelined in the church, I read these words from Paul:

“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy.” (Colossians 1:15-18)

It strikes me that Paul was writing to a church also in danger of squeezing out Jesus, not by the busyness of church life or the disordered priorities of the pastor but likely by some sort of early Gnostic teaching that sought to diminish Jesus. (I’ll leave the exact nature of the Colossian heresy for budding New Testament scholars looking for PHD topics.) Both Paul’s “Christological song” above and Matt Redman’s 90’s worship song both convey the same message in different ways: it’s all about you, Jesus. Paul writes a theological tour de force in Colossians 1, reminding us of Jesus’ divinity, creative power, resurrection, and headship of the Church; then, Paul sums up the implications of all this truth about Jesus by saying, “so that in everything he might have the supremacy.”

Perhaps it’s the tendency to diminish and demote Jesus from the place he should have that was behind Christ’s complaint against the church at Ephesus in Revelation: “I hold this against you, that you do not love as you did at first.” (Revelation 5:4) This tendency within the Church to make things other than Jesus supreme seems to be in pastor-theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s aim when he wrote, “Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”

In their book ReJesus, Michael Frost and Alan Hirschoffer a devastating critique of what Bonhoeffer called “Christianity without Christ,” the Body of Christ with Christ squeezed out:

We do not like gatherings [speaking of church services] of strangers who never meet or know each other outside of Sundays, who sit passively while virtual strangers preach and lead singing, who put up with second-rate pseudo-community under the guise of connection with each other, who live different lives from Monday to Saturday than they do on Sunday, whose sole expression of worship is pop-style praise and worship, who rarely laugh together, fight injustice together, eat together, pray together, raise each other’s children together, serve the poor together, or share Jesus with those who have not been set free.

But they don’t just offer criticism, they offer a journey to a remedy, claiming that the church needs to be “re-Jesused.” Simply put, “re-Jesusing” the Church is making church life and disciple life centered on Jesus again. To use Paul’s language, it means deliberately focusing on Jesus having center stage in our church life, not just giving lip service. I think it means re-turning to Jesus again and again, making sure Jesus is the focus of our preaching, the model for our discipleship, the source of unity in our community, the inspiration for our worship, and the aim of our hearts. “Re-Jesusing” our Church life will surely mean choosing to live by his Spirit in every way, each day. It will mean being utterly committed to becoming like Christ in the desires of our hearts, in what we think and do.

I remember a significant afternoon during my year of Doctorate of Ministry studies at Asbury Theological Seminary. Dr Dennis Kinlaw came to speak to us, but he did more than speak. He shared his heart. He spoke about his then-new book, Let’s Start With Jesus. He made an impassioned plea that as pastors and disciples, in every facet of our life and ministry, we start with Jesus. As I embark on my second year at Westlake Church Nyon, that is my guiding principle. In whatever I do in the life of the church or my own discipleship, I am asking, “what does it mean to start with Jesus?” I want my life to be “re-Jesused,” I want our church to be “re-Jesused.”

What about you? In your life, in aspects of church life for which you bear responsibility, can you really say with Paul that, “Christ has the supremacy?” Has church life become about other things than Jesus? Are you absorbed by budgets, people, your self-esteem as a pastor, the quality of weekly worship music, song choice – anything except Jesus? Has Jesus been squeezed out of the Body of Christ? Maybe we could allow “The Heart of Worship” to make a brief reappearance in our services, just to remind us that, “it’s all about you, Jesus.”

Otis T. McMillan ~ Engaging with Today Like Jesus

Listen to the Spirit and Work with Your Hands

What does this day hold for you—work, play, meetings, ministry, chores? Start by looking up and committing today to God. Then attend those meetings with God. Listen to his Spirit’s whispers and wisdom. Work with your hands like Jesus did. Minister to others in the same way that Jesus ministers to you. Love the people around you. And do it all with a grateful heart, thanking God for the blessings of life and his presence and guidance. Trust God’s love for you. Commit your day to leading like Jesus and commit yourself to his care as you lay down to rest.

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” —Matthew 6:33

Pray with me, God, as I move through this day, remind me to look up from the world around me and refresh my perspective so I can live, love, and lead in Your name, amen.

Give the Gift of Patience

Today, patience is one of the greatest gifts we can give others. Too often we want people to hurry up and get with it—the “it” often is aligning with our perspective. We think we know what (and when and how) people should act and speak. “If they would just follow my advice,” we think (and often say), “everything would work out.”

The truth is that God is the only one who knows their entire situation and story. God alone knows the best what and when and how for them. Our impatient demands only add more stress and get in the way of God’s work.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” — Colossians 3:12

Will you pray with me? Lord, today, when I am tempted to be impatient, remind me that my impatience does not accomplish your purpose. Let me reflect your patience today. In your name I pray, amen.

Trust Jesus Is Reaching Out to Your Pain

Jesus’ hands bear the marks of his incarnation and sacrifice. His hands worked with construction tools, scooped up mud to heal a blind man, and were pierced by an executioner’s nails. Jesus experienced the worst that evil could imagine and enters into our everyday experiences and pain. Because Jesus willingly stepped into human life and experience, you can trust him to understand what it is you face. Where do you need to trust Jesus to reach out his hands to you and through you today?

“After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. ‘Go,’ he told him, ‘wash in the Pool of Siloam’ (this word means ‘Sent’). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.” — John 9:6-7

Will you pray with me? Jesus, I am reaching out to take your hand and walk with you into this day. Open my eyes to see where you are sending me and teach me to lead like you. In your name I pray, amen.

Justus Hunter ~ Promising the Mystery of Wisdom

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“You will eat in plenty and be satisfied.”

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“My people will never again be put to shame.”

Has the promise been fulfilled?

“I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh.”

God fulfills his promises. We know this. But we often struggle to see how. Because the promises God makes and the promises we would like aren’t always the same. His wisdom is not ours.

My sons want me to build them a playhouse. So I’ve been sketching a few ideas, and we’ve been scavenging useful things around the neighborhood on trash days. I came up with a small 8×6 structure with a hinged wall that lifts into an awning for hot or rainy days. You’ll note a parent’s motivation here – even if it’s hot or wet, they can stay outside! I was proud of my design. But when I showed it to the boys, they looked it over and asked, “Where is the desk? Where do we sleep?”

My plans didn’t suit their purposes. There was a gap, a rupture between my plans and their goals. I had my wisdom, and they had theirs.

In today’s reading from I Corinthians 2, Paul also speaks of two wisdoms. There is the wisdom of this age and its rulers, and there is the wisdom of God. And because there are two wisdoms, when he came to Corinth, Paul refused to speak as if he were wise. “My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom.” He decided to proclaim the mystery of God, but not in their words and according to their wisdom. “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”

This message, the very mystery of God, requires a suitable foundation. The wisdom of this age will not do. Why not? Because the wisdom of this age and its rulers is, in fact, no wisdom at all. As it turns out, the wisdom of this age is foolish, absurd, contradictory. Its conclusion is the crucifixion. “They crucified the Lord of Glory.” As the early church thinkers observed, such things are unthinkable. How can the Lord of Glory himself, the very one who gives all life, who is Life Itself, be crucified, and die?

But this is the very thing the wisdom of our age does: it goes on as if the absurd were true. It lives as if Life Itself could be crucified, and that be the end of it. It is wisdom that attempts to destroy the Son, who is true Wisdom.

This, friends, is the wisdom of our age. We hear it all around us. And sometimes we live it. We live it each time we imagine we can carve off some corner of our life, set it aside, keep it secret from our Lord of Glory. We crucify him from our plans, our hopes, our times, our loves. We absurdly imagine that he could remain in the tomb, apart from the promises of our own making.

But no eye has seen nor ear heard what God has prepared for our plans and hopes, our times and loves. No heart can conceive the promises of God. None, that is, except God himself. None except the very Spirit of God.

And so Joel prophecies, “I will pour out my spirit on all flesh.” “You will eat and be satisfied.”

The promise is fulfilled. The wisdom of God, the Son himself, has come to us. He has come, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again from the dead and ascended into heaven. What else do you expect when the Lord of Glory is crucified?

The promise is fulfilled. The ascended Son pours out the Spirit. The Spirit has come. The Spirit that, “searches everything, even the depths of God” is shed abroad in our hearts. Thanks be to God, we have received the Spirit. And so, “we will eat and be satisfied.”

I’m redesigning the boys’ playhouse. I’m adding a multi-purpose bench; desk by day, bunk by night. And maybe, if I’m lucky, they can take a nap out there as well. But I’m leaving the hinged wall and awning. You see, I know the boys will enjoy it. Their eyes have not seen what I have planned for them. My wisdom is greater than theirs.

God has poured out the Spirit on all flesh. The Spirit is present. It is here. Just as Christ walked by the Spirit, so might we. And so might we have the mind of Christ, that mind which crucifies the wisdom of this age.

Make no mistake – something must die. There are two wisdoms. And no matter how well our wisdom imitates the Spirit’s – no matter how noble or well-intentioned our promises might be – no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God.

And that very Spirit is offered us now, ready and eager to make bread and wine be for us the body and blood of Christ, poured out for us. Take and eat, friends. Receive the promises of God. Let them crucify your wisdom, the wisdom the Lord of Glory was crucified to take away, the wisdom the Spirit was poured out to overcome. Take. Eat. Be satisfied.

Michelle Bauer ~ What It Means to Be Rooted and Established in God’s Love

What is it like to rest in God’s wide and long and high and deep love for you? If you could choose how God expresses his love to you today, what would you ask for? Consider what the Apostle Paul wrote to some early Mediterranean Christians:

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. – Ephesians 3: 14-21

God promises to strengthen us in our inner being. Take a moment to consider your inner being. What part of you – soul, spirit, mind, emotions, memories, fears, desires – would benefit from God’s strengthening? What efforts have you made to try to strengthen yourself? What have those results looked like? Talk to God about your willingness to surrender your core being to his work.

God’s strength becomes available to us when we are rooted and established in his love. In what other things are you tempted to root yourself? What in your life makes you feel secure and established? Ask the Spirit what it means to be rooted and established in God’s love and listen for the answer.

Verse 19 describes, “love that surpasses knowledge.” Where do you picture yourself on the journey of experiencing this kind of love from God? Where would you like to be? The author’s prayer is that you would be able to experience – grasp and know – this love.

God’s promise to strengthen us at the core is part of his plan to enable us to fully receive his love. How have you already experienced God’s love? What aspects do you long to experience? What parts of your heart, mind and soul would need to be strengthened in order to receive the love of God?

God is able to do, “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.” In what situation are you waiting for God to work? Take a moment to imagine what more would look like. How does it feel to release the plan and outcomes into his care?

Leave this time trusting that the Spirit will root and establish you in God’s love.

Michelle Bauer ~ An Invitation to Joy: Serving Well

We’re looking at the book of Philippians through the lens of joy. Joy does not come easily, and I need to be reminded of the choices and attitudes that lead to joy. Too many times I settle for happy – which is a cheap substitute for joy. The road to joy is hard. If we are going to walk it, it will require ongoing transformation into God’s likeness. Think about over themes in Philippians – humility, unity over preference, a servant attitude. This is very different from what culture says leads to joy – vacations, holidays, or career success.

And so we have a decision to make – are we going to believe Paul? Today we encounter two men, Timothy and Epaphroditus, who have chosen to believe what Paul has taught them about joy. They don’t just believe it, they are putting into action the things they’ve learned. Their stories serve as perfect examples of how serving well leads to joy.

My husband Chris and I had a funny experience with this a few years ago when we made a trip into Atlanta to see a performance of Cirque de Soleil. We left our three boys with their grandparents and we traveled into the big city to eat a great meal and see the show. Cirque de Soleil is amazing! It’s not just a circus. It’s a fancy French circus – acrobatics, balancing, launching people on teeter totters, all set to music. It is totally captivating. At one point in the show, I leaned over to my husband and whispered, “We have to bring the boys next year. They will love it!” But we both at the same time quickly said, “Oh no, that’s a bad idea.” Chris and I sat through that whole show and never once thought “I bet I can do that…” My boys, however, would have sat through Cirque de Soleil as if it had been a training seminar. And we would have spent the next year in the Emergency Room.

While setting examples might be dangerous at the circus, it is exactly what we should do when it comes to the Bible. We should be reading and thinking, “I can do that! I’m going to try it!” Instead, I often read and think, “How interesting! Isn’t Paul amazing?” while instead I should be thinking, “I’m going to try that.” James 1:22 says “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” We are called to listen to the word and to do what it says.

We are supposed to read and think, “I want to learn how to do that.” In this case, Timothy and Epaphroditus show us what it looks like to adopt these attitudes that Paul is writing about to the Philippians. In the last part of Philippians 2:19-30, Paul shows us that real, live people can do what he is talking about:

I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, that I also may be cheered when I receive news about you. I have no one else like him, who will show genuine concern for your welfare.For everyone looks out for their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. But you know that Timothy has proved himself, because as a son with his father, he has served with me in the work of the gospel.I hope, therefore, to send him as soon as I see how things go with me. And I am confident in the Lord that I myself will come soon.

But I think it is necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, co-worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill.Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. So then, welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honor people like him, because he almost died for the work of Christ. He risked his life to make up for the help you yourselves could not give me.

Let’s start by looking at Timothy.

Paul is writing this letter from prison while he is awaiting his trial. He will soon find out if he will be released or executed. While he is in prison, Timothy has been partnering with Paul so that the work of church planting and church supporting can continue. Paul now plans to send Timothy to Philippi so that he can be helpful to them and give Paul a full report of how they are doing.

Paul in describing Timothy says, “I have no one else like him.” That’s quite a compliment. Paul then goes on to describe what is so outstanding about Timothy. The first thing he mentions in verse 20 is that Timothy has taken a “genuine interest in their welfare.” Timothy genuinely cares how the church at Philippi is doing. Timothy isn’t pretending or posing as someone who cares. He really cares. The word genuine can also be translated as “natural” or a trait that comes through “birthright.” The things about us that we just can’t help – our eye color, our hair texture. We can’t change those things. They are an expression of our DNA. Those things are our natural state. Timothy cares about this church because his Father God cares about them. It is being expressed through his spiritual DNA – from the inside out. He can’t help it.

God is forming Timothy into someone who can’t help but care for others. That is the work of God in his life. This is what God does when we let him: God changes us from the inside out. So we don’t have to pretend to be holy. We can be holy – because it is in our DNA.

Does your service, like Timothy’s, come from a genuine interest in others? If we are going to put into action what the letter to the Philippians describes, we need to start asking ourselves some questions. How are we doing in this area? Do you have a genuine interest in others?

Genuinely caring about others is hard. It means we will have to feel things. We will have to experience disappointment when people we care about make bad choices. It means we will have to hurt with people and to wait with people and to get frustrated by people.

I know this is happening throughout the church. Many people are genuinely touched by the needs of those you serve – their physical needs, their emotional well-being, the spiritual roadblocks they are experiencing. Be encouraged. If it hurts sometimes, you are doing it right. If you get so frustrated you want to quit sometimes, you are doing it right. If sin and brokenness breaks your heart and makes you want to hit something, you are serving well. And if you’ve found yourself at a point where you are numb or having a hard time letting those you serve get close to your heart, spend some time talking with God about that. Paul is showing us through Timothy’s example that showing genuine interest in others is the path that leads to joy.

The next thing Paul tells us about Timothy is that he works like a son, not an employee. We read in verse 22, “Timothy has proved himself, because as a son with his father he has served with me in the work of the gospel.” I have never worked for a business my family-owned, but I’m guessing it’s different than just showing up for a job. When you are the son or daughter going to work you know that what you do affects not just your income but your inheritance.

A few weeks ago we ended up in a different town at lunch time and stopped at a pizza place called Michelle’s. After our waiter took our order, I asked him who Michelle was. He said, “oh, she’s the owner’s daughter, over there.” And he pointed to one of the waitresses. As we waited for our food, I watched her work. She waited tables – like she owned the place. She was engaged with the customers, she knew the menu, she obviously cared about each person’s experience. She was working like a daughter and not just an employee.

Timothy considered God’s Kingdom his family business and he worked in it like a son. I’m not saying that he overworked; the sense I get is that he fully invested himself in kingdom work. He didn’t hold back.

Do you approach kingdom work as a son or daughter or like an employee? Do you approach your work in the kingdom like you are working in your family’s business? I’m talking about how we approach kingdom work in all areas of our lives: the way we interact at work and school and in our community. Do we have areas of our lives that we engage as children of the kingdom and others where we forget who we are?

There is a cost to working like a son or daughter. We let God’s way invade every aspect of our lives – we care not just about doing our assigned tasks but about the long-term vision of God’s work in the world. Again, I’m not talking about overwork or saying “yes” anytime someone asks you to serve. Rather, I’m talking about seeing yourself as a co-owner in God’s work. What that looks like will be different for everyone. Paul is showing us through Timothy’s example that working like a son or daughter is a joyful way to serve. It brings a deep sense of satisfaction and purpose that lasts.

Now we get to Epaphroditus (E-paf-roe-DIE-tus). If anyone ever needed a nickname, it’s him!

Epaphroditus was a member of the church at Philippi who was selected by the group to hand deliver a gift to Paul. We don’t know the details but it seems like they collected items that he needed while in prison – clothing, food, medicines, supplies, probably money.

At that time UPS didn’t deliver between Philippi and Rome, so someone needed to make the trip and deliver it in person. Epaphroditus was chosen for the mission and it proved to be dangerous; he literally risked his life. We read in verse 30, “he almost died for the work of Christ, risking his life to make up for the help you could not give me.” The trip was long. I “Google mapped” the route. To walk from Philippi to Rome would take about 219 hours. If he walked eight hours a day it would have taken 27 days one-way. There also would’ve been a boat ride across the Adriatic sea. Then once Epaphroditus arrived in Rome he got to hang out in a prison. And Rome wasn’t safe for Christians. Neither was associating with someone already in trouble for spreading the gospel. Somewhere along the way, Epaphroditus got very sick with a serious illness. Paul says he almost died and that only God’s intervention saved Epaphroditus’ life. What else might it have cost Epaphroditus to make this trip – time away from his family and community, his own career and work, whatever his own personal ambitions and priorities were?

What are we risking? Not many of us will be called to risk our physical lives. But we may be called to risk the life we thought we would have. We may be asked to risk our priorities and plans. We may be asked to risk our comfort and safety. But when it starts to pinch and pull at “our best life” we start to get nervous. When the Spirit begins to tug at our safety nets and the things we cling to for security, when God exposes the things we do to avoid pain. It defies all logic: but risking everything is where we can find joy.

Paul’s hope is that we will discover the path to joy that he knows. And he knows that we cannot have joy when we aren’t willing to genuinely care for others, when we treat God’s kingdom like a dead-end job, or when we aren’t willing to risk anything.

This question seems to sum up the path to joyful service in God’s kingdom…are you concerned with the interests of others? Paul repeatedly takes notice not just of what people do but why they are doing it. We can do good things for the wrong reasons. We can serve at church, build houses for the poor, excel at school all for the wrong reasons. It’s an example of grace, that God uses us even with our mess of motivations to accomplish Kingdom work. But if we want to serve in a way that leads to joy we need to let the Spirit work at a deeper level – at the level of our motivations.

Here are a couple of ways we can invite the Holy Spirit to begin working on our motivations:

1. Ask God to make you more self-aware.

Ask God to show you what your true motivations really are. The human heart is complex and multi-layered. In spiritual direction, we dive into these layers with why questions.

“I want to serve.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to help others.”

“Why?”

Sometimes the why is to glorify God. Other times the why beneath that why is because we want to feel good about ourselves, soothe our guilt, or boost our reputation.

In Psalm 139, David asks God to “search him and know him.” Picture God walking through your heart with a flashlight, pointing in the dark corners and lovingly pointing out the truth of what’s there. God knows all there is to know about our motives. God can see into the deep places of our hearts that we don’t even know are there. Ask him to show you what is there.

2. Give God permission to work.

The second action is to give God permission to work. When God shines a flashlight on something lurking in the basement of your heart, surrender the corner. Writing to the Roman Christians, in 6:13 Paul encouraged them to follow sacrificial living as, he said, we “offer ourselves to God.” You may think God only wants the good parts. But what if I offer the parts that I need God’s help with? Open the door to that spot in your heart and give God permission to work.

3. Waiton God.

The third step is to wait. Isaiah describes us as clay in the potter’s hands. We wait while God forms us. Our instinct is to come out fighting: “oh, I have pride, I will single-handedly eradicate pride from my life.” No, you won’t. And if you could, you’d be prideful about it. Our work instead is to surrender and wait. But we wait with expectation: “He who began a good work in you will complete it.”

God is calling us not just to do good things, but to do them for the right reasons – with others’ interests at heart. To do them out of love for Christ and his people. To do them because our hearts are touched by the effects of sin and brokenness and poverty and injustice. Then our service will go from draining to life-giving, from drudgery to joy-producing. When I am feeling run down it is usually a result of one or two things: I’m not taking enough time in God’s presence, or I’m serving from wrong motives. I’m seeking my own interests over those of others.

What are the signs of this?

– I begin to feel unappreciated. I begin to think back to the last time I was thanked or complimented.

– I begin to let resentment simmer just under the surface. Everything becomes irritating and frustrating.

– I am tempted to see people as cogs in the wheels of my machine. I begin to fantasize about how great everything would be if people just cooperated with my plans.

– I begin to see everything as unfair. That person isn’t caring enough, or that person isn’t contributing enough.

When I find myself in that place, the choice is mine. And the choice is ours. Will we believe what Paul is telling us about joy? Will we find Timothy and Epaphroditus’ examples merely interesting and admirable, or will we say, “I can do that”?

Jeff Rudy ~ Third Day Dimension

But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost.If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. – I Corinthians 15:12-20

My friend Kevin is a professor of New Testament at my alma mater. He told me about the time several years ago when his father died. He recalled vividly people coming up to him to tell him not to cry, not to grieve because, “That’s not really your father. That’s just a shell.” They were well-intended words, but it was frustrating for Kevin and it came to the point he challenged their words in a most poignant way when he said in reply, “What do you mean, that’s not my father? Those are the hands that cared for me. Those are the arms that took me up and hugged me. Those are the lips that spoke to me; the eyes that searched for me; the chest on which I fell asleep, knowing I was safe in his care. Everything I have ever known of my father was through this body. Don’t tell me that’s not him.”

Now what I’m about to say might sound a little jarring at first, but hear this, and hear me out:

Jesus wasn’t raised from the dead just so you could go to heaven when you die.

That’s not the end game. The goal is something greater than just going to heaven when you die. Because if it was just about that, then what the ancient pagans and Gnostics believed about the body must be true – that our bodies are prisons, that they are merely shells for some sort of immaterial soul within that ultimately longs to be free. To be clear, that sort of picture can be a picture of salvation and of hope, but it is not the picture of Christian salvation and hope that we have in the New Testament. The picture of salvation and hope in the New Testament is very clearly based on an event that took place 2,000 years ago – the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth who had been crucified and died, was buried, and on the third day rose again.

In both the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds, there are two statements about the resurrection – (1) that Jesus was resurrected on the third day; and (2) the belief “in the resurrection of the body” or “resurrection of the dead” which is about the resurrection that we still await – what we call the “general resurrection.” These doctrines are not euphemisms or merely metaphors to talk about an ethereal reality or our need to “escape” our earthly tents, so to speak. No, Jesus’ body departed the tomb with its scars, though they had healed, and apparently with some new abilities that they had not yet seen. (More on that in a moment.)

In this section of 1 Corinthians, Paul is in the midst of his theological discourse about the content of Christian hope. He’s already established that there are over 500 eyewitnesses to Jesus’ bodily resurrection (verses 1-11). And he now turns to address what appears to be a faction of the Corinthians who weren’t necessarily denying that Jesus was raised (though some were perhaps teaching that), but who were at least denying that a future resurrection was still in store for the people of God.

Most of the world in the first century didn’t believe in an eternity that was based upon the idea of the resurrection of the body. By the time Jesus was around, there was a sect within Judaism called the Sadducees who did not believe in a future resurrection. It was the Pharisees who believed that the resurrection would one day happen as the final reckoning of God’s judgment, when God would right the wrongs and vindicate the faithful by raising them from the dead to enjoy eternity in the presence of God. But the Sadducees and others like them focused their message of salvation in the “now,” which is one reason why the Sadducees frequently are seen in the Gospels in cahoots with the powers that be…to get as much power and prestige in this life as possible.

However, the teaching of the Pharisees and most other Jews was that the resurrection of the dead would mark the final day of God’s judgment: the picture of hope for God’s faithful. It’s what Jesus held to, what Paul held to, what Jesus’ friends and followers believed as well. In John 11, right before Jesus raised Lazarus, he told Martha, “Your brother will rise again.” She replied, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” And what Jesus did next for Martha, Mary and all of Lazarus’ friends was to give them a glimpse of that in resuscitating Lazarus. I say “resuscitate” rather than “resurrect” because Lazarus was raised by Jesus but would one day die again. However, the resurrection would be to life for eternity. And here, my friends, is where the resurrection of Jesus was so surprising: not because they didn’t believe it wouldn’t one day happen, but that it happened on the third day. When Jesus was raised, it wasn’t just a resuscitation, it was something more: he was raised to never die again. That’s resurrection.

And Paul’s point here, as he says elsewhere in his letters, is that what is true of Jesus the Messiah is true of us. What happened to Jesus will one day happen to us. If it won’t happen to us – if we deny that the resurrection of the body will happen – then what is the purpose of Jesus’ resurrection? Paul goes further and says that if we won’t be raised then it must be that Christ was not raised. And if that is the case, then we are still in our sins, because sin and death are intertwined in Paul’s worldview. We would still be in our sins and death would remain the victor.

But, Paul, says, Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the “first fruits” of those who have died. The language of “first fruits” is why we affirm that what happened to Jesus on the third day will happen to us on the final day: that will be the harvest from when we have been buried, planted, interred, or returned to the earth or laid to rest.

So, I say again, Jesus wasn’t raised from the dead just so you could go to heaven when you die. He was raised so that one day we, too, will be raised. God will do more than resuscitate our mortal bodies…but restore, redeem, and endow our bodies, this creation, with amazing new possibilities that will leave us eternally in awe of God’s ability to make all things new.

The resurrection is part of why we ought not treat our world like trash. The resurrection is why my family recycles. The resurrection is why we should be good stewards of our bodies. The resurrection is why we should strive to fight for the dignity and well-being of all humans on the face of the planet. The resurrection is why we seek to be Christ’s hands, feet, and voice now, getting to experience the beauty of salvation now, living for the kingdom of God in Christ now, even while we wait for the later when God will give life to these mortal bodies. And at the end of the day and the end of life, the resurrection is why we do grieve even to the point of breaking down and weeping, because of how much we love and will miss the person who has died. And the resurrection is why we don’t believe these bodies are prisons or shells but when we die, await a glorious time when God will do with our bodies what he did with Jesus’ on the third day. And what do we see Jesus doing after the third day? Well, the same sort of things we do even now: eating fish, breaking bread, walking and talking, showing the scars of our past. Only now, he could do more! As if given a new dimension, he was able to show up behind a closed, locked door; travel to Galilee in no time; and so on.

A new dimension. In geometry, a line is one-dimensional – length; when lines form to make a shape, it’s two-dimensional – length and width. But it remains two-dimensional until you add depth or height. Is that third dimension separate from the other dimensions? No. It is made up of them but adds more.

That’s one way to see the resurrection: it’s something mysterious and amazing and beyond the world as we currently know it. And yet while it is beyond and more than it, it is not so “other” that it is less than whatever truth and goodness and beauty we currently know. Believing this means that we are not to be pitied but that we live in hope.

Note from the Editor: The featured artwork is titled “Harbingers of the Resurrection” by Nikolai Ge, 1867.