Coram Deo Blog
Archive for April 2007
30 April 2007 at 12:45 pm by Will Walker · identity, mission
Paul (the Apostle): “From Christ the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”
Randy Frazee: “Consumerism is about consumption – the concentrated effort to consume things in order to meet one’s real and perceived needs and wants. While in its basic form consumption is both necessary and permissible, when it is practiced in an environment where the individual is sovereign, it can easily become an imbalanced obsession that kills community.”
John Calvin: “No member of the body of Christ is endowed with such Perfection as to be able, without the assistance of others, to supply his own necessities.”
J. Hampton Keathley: “Every believer is a joint of supply, a point of contact AND a source of supply through the head, Christ. Paul is saying that every member in his or her contact with other members supplies something the body needs”
John Piper: “You simply can’t read the New Testament in search of what church life is supposed to be like and come away thinking that Worship services and classes are the sum total of what church was supposed to be … The inevitable effect of treating church as worship services and classes is to make the people of God passive and too dependent on ordained experts. And could it not be that this pervasive relational passivity and dependence of millions of Christians—I mean passivity in interpersonal, spiritual ministry—rob us of some of Christ’s precious remedies for a hundred problems?”
This chart is not a comprehensive treatment on this subject, but it is a good starting point for us to begin identifying some of our consumer tendencies. There are all sorts of “finer points” and implications, so jump in with comments regarding your experiences.
The chart is small-ish, but you can click on it to see a larger view.
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30 April 2007 at 10:32 am by Bob Thune · masculinity
Part of what I’m doing on vacation is catching up on some leisure reading. Anthony Bradley is a studly, missional African-American seminary professor in St. Louis. He recently wrote on the Resurgence blog about an experience involving a Mardi Gras party, the Grateful Dead, people smoking weed in a former church building, and Jesus in a pink dress. You’ll have to read the article to see how it all fits together… but Bradley’s contention is that masculine men just won’t follow a Jesus who wears a pink dress. Would you?
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26 April 2007 at 1:09 pm by Will Walker · community
Dictionary.com says:
- The pursuit of individual rather than common or collective interests.
- Belief in the primary importance of the individual and in the virtues of self-reliance and personal independence.
In our context, the thrust of individualism is that the gospel and the community and the mission are in some way primarily about “me”. This can happen so subtly that we are not even aware of it. And it can express itself differently from person to person. Here are some symptoms of individualism, especially in our context of faith and church (read reflectively):
// ISOLATION //
- People know who you are, but don’t know you as you are.
- Very few people have access to your life → Sunday is the extent of your “public” faith
- Accountability regresses to mere disclosure (we want people to know what we tell them, but not pressing, correcting, rebuking, and exhorting us)
// INDEPENDENCE //
- You pride yourself in your ability to deal with your own problems and challenges without help from others.
- You don’t think you need people to grow spiritually (that’s between you and God
- You are afraid that if people knew the real you that they would judge or reject you
// IMPORTANCE //
- You have confused importance with significance
- You tend to measure your growth by how much you know
- The busyness of life keeps you from mission and community → Your wants and goals are functionally prioritized above spiritual formation and mission.
In and individualistic mindset, the gospel becomes about how much I am loved and forgiven and accepted, period. The process of spiritual growth becomes one of isolated effort. And mission becomes a duty instead of a natural function of your community. Before long you find yourself in a place where spiritual life has less and less to do with relationships and is effectively disconnected from actual life altogether. This is how Gospel-centered missional community gives way to me-centered self-absorbed individualism.
(sorry about the daisy bullets … couldn’t get it to do anything else)
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24 April 2007 at 10:10 am by Will Walker · community
I’m going to tell you something that is true. It is self-evident and supported by my testimony. Here it is: I am a very important person. I get quite busy at times because all sorts of people need me to do things that, I suppose, they would not be able to do otherwise. I’m always thinking about things, and talking about things even more than thinking. There are very many words to be said, and people listen to what I am saying, I guess, because it is interesting or vital, which is part of what makes me an important person.
I drink Peet’s coffee because, well, it’s the best coffee you can buy. But you have to order it. Ordering coffee is very sophisticated, not unlike ordering caviar. I drink my Peet’s coffee in a Peet’s mug.
I am generally tired. You can see it in my eyes and in the way that I lay on the couch a lot. I suspect the reason is that one must unwind, as being necessary to so much is flat out exhausting.
I travel now and then, often by car, but sometimes by plane. There are people in other cities and states who need me to come there because, apparently, there is nobody in their city or state who can do what it is that I am flying there to do. It must be of immense importance for me to leave my family. I feel very special up there in the air, and especially in the airports eating $13 deli sandwiches.
People usually laugh when I say something that I think is funny. You can be funny and still be unimportant, but it is nice when important people are also funny.
Meetings. This is perhaps the most critical element of importance. I go to lots of them – prayer meetings, small group meetings, counseling meetings, business meetings, planning meetings, meetings to plan future meetings. More often than not I lead these meetings, and that is without question noteworthy.
People come to me with their problems, which makes sense I guess, because I come to me with my problems, too. It’s a lot to carry, but I do what I can.
I have an apple laptop and a wireless phone with virtually unlimited minutes. The fact that it is an apple is not relevant, but it is certainly important in a sexy sort of way. The point is that I am accessible to any number of wireless Internet locations that connect me to the world almost anytime it needs me. I check my e-mail at least a dozen times a day.
I’ve been on several short-lists, I think. Considered for this and that.
I have been the director of things.
I read books, though not as many as I would like people to think. Nevertheless, extracurricular reading is considered somewhat advanced. I quote people, and even though they are not original thoughts to me, the quoting of them at appropriate junctures makes me look smart. Over time I quote some ideas enough that they have the effect of being my own. You must agree that being thought of as smart points to my importance.
I tell impressive stories about people and events and then say something that connects me to those stories. Mere association with such things alludes to my critical role on planet earth.
I am not saying that I want to be God or something. I wouldn’t even consider it. Who would then be me?
(note: this post should be read in light of the sermon from last week: me-centered self-absorbed individualism)
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23 April 2007 at 1:38 pm by Bob Thune · humor
Multiple things about this photo disturb me.
1) Notice the multiple children playing unsupervised in the background while Evan, seated in a chair too small for him, apparently enjoys a moment of personal reading.
2) There appear to be no children within 6 feet of Evan. Which begs the question of what exactly Evan is doing hanging out in children’s ministry with no kids around.
3) When kids like reading children’s books, that’s good. When adults like Evan enjoy reading children’s books… something is amiss. (Although too many classes at UNO could certainly make one long for the relief of a good children’s book – with large type and lots of pictures).
4) It APPEARS – and I realize appearances can be deceiving – that Evan has torn open the toy box and scattered baby toys around the floor in a moment of childlike delight. Again, I’m not SURE that’s what’s happened… but a picture is worth a thousand words, as they say.
Ev, would you care to comment?
(Thanks to Nathan M, stealth Coram Deo photographer, for giving us some photojournalist-esque insight into what really goes on in the children’s ministry.)
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19 April 2007 at 7:42 am by Bob Thune · justice
In the aftermath of this week’s campus shooting at Virginia Tech University, I have been utterly intrigued by the inability of most religious leaders (at least the ones I’ve seen) to say anything meaningful about the tragedy.
On Tuesday, I listened on the radio to the convocation held on campus. In standard pluralistic fashion, four “religious leaders” were paraded before the audience to offer words of spiritual wisdom and comfort. I daresay their words offered little of either.
The Muslim representative (who, interestingly, was a professor at the university, not a clergyman/imam) quoted the Qu’ran in Arabic and offered the sober reminder that death awaits us all. He reiterated the phrase: “To Allah we belong, and to him is our return.” While this certainly parallels the Bible’s teaching (see Ecclesiastes 12:13-14 and Hebrews 9:27), it does little to offer comfort in a time of tragedy.
Next came a Buddhist woman, who explained the senseless tragedy by saying that she believes every human being is innately good. I am not sure how that anthropology accounts for a guy ruthlessly killing 32 people. And, since Buddhism’s highest state of enlightenment includes rising above suffering, this worldview doesn’t seem to have much to say to those who suffer deeply.
The next religious leader, a Jewish woman, quoted Ecclesiastes 3, reminding us that “there is a time for everything, and a season for every purpose under heaven.” If she was intending to bring comfort by insinuating that “a time for everything” includes “a time for senseless violence,” then I (and the Bible) disagree with her.
The final speaker, a (liberal) Lutheran minister, suggested that we can overcome evil with love. He neglected, of course, to root that love in the substitutionary atoning death of Jesus Christ on the cross and the redemption of lost sinners, thereby leaving no explanation for how people who are capable of love are also capable of murder.
In the final analysis, all four of these religious representatives said nothing of great value. Which isn’t surprising. In times of great tragedy, the biblical worldview stands alone as the only one which can offer both meaning and hope.
CREATION: Human beings are created in the image of God. Therefore, the murder of 32 people is deeply tragic and unjust, not just because “they were innocent victims,” but because they bear the image of God and therefore have immense dignity and value and worth. It is not their innocence that makes their death tragic, for in the final analysis, none of us are truly innocent (Ecclesiastes 7:20). It is the inherent value of human beings as image-bearers of God that makes the taking of human life a sin of epic proportions.
FALL: Sin has bent and corrupted and twisted our world beyond imagination. Sin has defaced and deformed the world to the extent that humans who bear the image of God are capable of tremendous horror and evil. Without the Fall, we have no category to explain the actions of Cho Seung-Hui (the shooter). In light of the Fall, his actions are not random or unexplainable, but simply the manifestation of the deeply twisted sinful nature that resides at the core of humans… you and me included.
REDEMPTION: Jesus Christ died for sinners. He suffered injustice, as did those who died last Monday. But unlike them, he was totally sinless. He went to his grave forgiving his enemies and rose from the dead triumphing over evil and sin. Through union with Christ, we are forgiven for our great debt of sin, and we are able to forgive our debtors – even those who sin grievously against us. Because Jesus is Lord, we await the final consummation of his glorious kingdom, where he will reign as the Prince of Peace and where evil and sin and grievous violence will be no more. Jesus does not guarantee us that the current world will be free of mass murder. But he does guarantee us the hope of final victory and the power of current redemption to love our enemies as ourselves.
I only wish someone had said these things to the students at Virginia Tech on Tuesday. For in times when we feel both death and life, pain and hope, anger and love, only the cross of Jesus Christ and the biblical storyline of Creation-Fall-Redemption have anything meaningful to say.
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17 April 2007 at 3:57 pm by Bob Thune · city renewal, justice
Coram Deo is humbled and honored to learn mission from others who are doing it well. Word Made Flesh is an Omaha-based mission community called by God to serve Jesus among the poorest of the poor. They continue to teach us much about serving and loving Jesus in the hardest and darkest places. The following is an essay by field staffer Cara Strauss, reprinted from WMF’s quarterly journal, The Cry.
Elisa was the first girl I tried to save.
I met her during my first visit to El Alto’s red light district. It was a frigid night, as always. There were hundreds of men milling in and out of each dark brothel, as always. As always, they stared the girls up and down like cattle. And as always, the girls stood in their doorways, looking defiant or nervous or bored, but never happy. This was my first visit, though, and everything was an ugly novelty. Every woman’s sad, dazed or insolent face added to the knot in my stomach. All I wanted to do was make these women smile, or laugh–anything to take their minds off of what they were doing. So, as I nervously handed hot chocolate to each, I tried to joke in my broken Spanish and invite them to our center, La Casa de Esperanza, where they could share lunch with us.
That first night I met Elisa. She looked nervous. She was young. And she broke my heart when she told me her story. Her father, she told me, had abused her and her 12-year-old sister. When they ran away from home to escape him, Elisa couldn’t find work. She started prostituting to feed her sister. “Now I work so my sister can eat and go to school,” she told me. “As soon as she graduates, she can get a job, and I can stop working.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“I’m 18,” she said, looking at the floor. I didn’t believe her. In Bolivia, prostitution is legal at 18. But she didn’t seem more than 16.
I asked her how long she’d been working. “A week.”
I suddenly felt nauseous. A week? I couldn’t think straight in Spanish anymore. I hugged her quickly and left the brothel, doubting the sovereignty of the God who had left her therewith no way out. I wanted to save her. This beautiful, illiterate, broken girl was selling her body so that her sister would never have to. I wanted to take her and her sister each by the hand and run away from this dirty city. I wanted to run them a hot bubble bath, wrap them in flannel nightgowns, and make popcorn for us. I yearned to have been there a week ago, to snatch her from the grime of the brothel before she knew the horror and pain caused by the drunken men who paid for her. I wanted to be her salvation. And I did not understand why God had not let me save her.
Elisa soon became my favorite sight in the red-light district. She would break into a smile when I walked into her brothel. We would share a dinner of flavorless hot dogs in the dull red brothel light while she motioned men away. She began coming to literacy classes at our center. She enrolled in a beauty school.
But I never saved her. She is still prostituting. All my fumbling efforts to rescue her have come to nothing. Though it is difficult, I am slowly realizing that I am not called to save Elisa. If I had been called to save her, I failed. But I am not her salvation. I am no one’s salvation. I can do no more than I was asked to do. I was called to show her my Lord, who can and does save. Elisa’s salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given by which we must be saved.
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11 April 2007 at 8:23 am by Bob Thune · faith, gospel
“We are not justified by faith by believing in justification by faith; we are justified by faith by believing in the gospel… in Jesus as the crucified and risen Lord of the world.”
- NT Wright
“The issue of faith is not believing the gospel when nothing makes sense; it’s believing that the gospel makes sense of things.”
- Walker
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8 April 2007 at 3:27 pm by Will Walker · jesus, resurrection
He is Risen!
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7 April 2007 at 8:48 am by Will Walker · lent
It’s the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. It doesn’t have a name that I am aware of. There’s Holy Thursday, Good Friday, (Saturday), and Easter Sunday. Why is Saturday just Saturday? No services. No special Liturgy. Nothing to go on. There is almost no mention of this day in the Gospels. It’s unfair. I’d like to propose a name: “Hangover Saturday.”A really bad hangover leaves you feeling dry, empty, and somewhat confused about the events of the previous night. Did that really happen? You just want to go back to bed. Nothing is desirable at the moment: light, noise, food, thoughts. This is how I imagine Jesus’ followers felt on Hangover Saturday.
Gradually they came into the day, awakened to its reality. Jesus had been crucified. There was nowhere to go, nothing fitting to read, just wondering where to go from here.
We, of course, are spoiled by hindsight. The hangover today – if there is one – isn’t that bad because, honestly, last night wasn’t that bad. Some of us gathered together to remember the crucifixion. We talked about it and meditated on the accounts of it in Scripture. We observed the cross symbolically in communion and dispersed quietly to our respective homes. It was somber and at times lonely, a truly meaningful remembrance of the cross.
But remembrance is nothing like first-hand experience. Last night was delightful compared to the first Good Friday. And consequently, today is ordinary compared to the first Hangover Saturday. I’m not saying this is wrong, just the way it is.
I do have a suggestion, though, for those who wish to observe this day in some way. Spend some time considering what it is about God, our world, and your life that perplexes and confuses you. What has you downcast or feeling defeated? What has stranded you with no place to go? In what ways do you feel deceived or disappointed? What would you rather not think about today?
The aim isn’t to find answers, but rather to explore the depth of your questions. This is likely something that you don’t want to do, because these questions often surface pain and expose inadequacies. It would be easier to suppress these thoughts and feelings. And that is what Hangover Saturday is all about.
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SCRIPTURE READING: Nothing to read, only questions to ask.
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