Carl Medearis's Blog, page 3

The Old Catholics Were Right. The Bible’s Too Dangerous for the Average Person

I grew up Protestant. Evangelical Pentecostal if we need to have exact labels.  We were the good kind of Pentecostals – as opposed to the bad kind of course.  We read the Bible. We memorized it. We took it seriously.  I always won at Sword Drills and Bible Trivia – still do. Because my dad would quiz us kids every night at the table.  Oh, and I’d go to Sunday school at 9:00 A.M. then to church at 10:00 - every Sunday, just like God told us to.


Then there was Sunday night service – often evangelistic – and Wednesday night Bible Study and prayer.  Royal Rangers (a Christian version of Boy Scouts) was on Friday nights. Both Family Camp and Kids Camp were attended every summer and the occasional Revival Meetings and other special events meant I was in church from the age of Zero to 18 probably four days a week on average.  The weird thing was, I mostly liked it.  I didn’t rebel.  Didn’t fight it – I learned.  I could quote scriptures like nobody’s business. Man, I was good. The Bible Answer Boy!


And I still love the Bible. The B.I.B.L.E yes that’s the book for me.  It’s true. I read it almost every day. Now on my iPad and iPhone and in my Twitter feed, but I still read and love it.


But I’ve started wondering if the old Catholics – you know, the Desert Fathers and the like – had it right.  Tertullian. Augustine. Athanasius. Aquinus.  Origin and Jerome.  Those types.  The ones we Protestants were protesting against.  They believed that the Bible was a very sacred book and also quite dangerous in the hands of an untrained person.  We believe that any and every one ought to have equal access to it, and an equal opportunity to exegete and explain it.  They believed that it was to be read by holy people, we think it should be read by the average Joe.  They believed it should be handled with great care because it’s full of great mystery. We believe that any man, woman or child full of the Holy Spirit can unpack those mysteries.  They believed it was for God’s chosen called and anointed ones. We think we’re all anointed.  They believed the original languages (plus Latin) were vital for a full understanding. We believe that the easier it is to read the words, the more people can have access to its truth.


And I wonder if we’re both right.  The errors of the past are always so easy to see.  I can tell the Catholics had a speck in their eye all the way from here.  But might there be a log, or at least a small branch, in ours?


I get the Bible quoted to me (at me?) all the time.  Facebook is a favorite tool of the almost initiated Bible teachers.  They can quote with anonymity. Throw Bible stones and never be caught or called to account.  I’ve done it, so i know how easy it is. And it’s kinda fun to be honest. I can level someone with a scripture I pull out of my Bible Knowledge Bag and lob it like a grenade into the enemy’s (I mean, my brother’s) camp before he knows what hit him.  And then all my friends “Like” it and make comments about how smart I am and how theologically weak my opponent’s position was in the first place.  Others do that to me too, but we know they’re wrong.


The Bible’s a dangerous book. Full of scary truths and confusing stories.  I was with a man earlier this week who leads a large ministry – and it’s not confusing to him at all. He also wielded this great Sword with deft accuracy. I know, because he told me so.  He know the Bible all right. In King James too.  Impressive he was.  Was proud that he’d had no official theological training – dang, usually I’m the one playing that game.


I just wonder if what I really need, is more Biblical humility.  I often ask folks what Jesus was doing in the temple when he was 12. Almost everyone knows the answer – he was teaching, they say.  Nice try, but unfortunately that’s not true.  It says he was sitting, listening and asking questions.  Three things he was doing:  1. Sitting.  2. Listening.  3. Asking questions.


And they were amazed at his wisdom.


Maybe the Catholics of ole were just more humble.  I don’t know because I didn’t know them.  But maybe. But either way, I know that I need to be.  Sitting. Listening. Asking questions. If Jesus did it, even when he was just 12, I should too.

 

Learning From Serpents- Rick Lawrence

Five-or-so years ago I was locked in what felt like an all-out war over a dream that was in danger of dying, because a man who was much shrewder than me was bent on stopping it. One day, in my grief and fear and anger over what was about to happen, I felt Jesus sort of “sit me down” and challenge me—it was clear that my “frontal” way of dealing with this situation was not going to work, and He was asking me if I was going to have the courage to move more shrewdly. In the nicey-nice Christian culture that is promoted and perpetuated in most churches, shrewdness is anathema—worse, it’s entirely off the radar as a spiritual practice.

So, in an uncharacteristic spirit of desperation, I asked God to teach me what I needed to know about shrewdness—and He (of course) brought me to Jesus, the source of all good things. The point of Jesus’ “Parable of the Shrewd Manager” (Luke 16:1-8) is specifically to highlight the behavior of a lazy, lying, good-for-nothing servant who has no qualities we’d want to emulate except for one: his shrewd way of saving himself from the consequences of his terrible behavior. Jesus highlights this anti-role-model for one purpose: “The people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.” Later, in preparation for sending out His disciples on their first ministry journey without Him, He tells them to take nothing with them (no clothing, money, or “insurance” of any kind)—instead, He tells them they need just two things:

1. Be as shrewd as a serpent, and

2. Be as innocent as a dove.

The word He uses here for “serpent” is the same one He uses for Satan. And the word He uses here for “dove” is the same the Bible uses to describe the Holy Spirit. Jesus is telling His disciples to be as shrewd as Satan is, but as innocent as the Holy Spirit is. Shrewdness, then, is a way of living and relating that Jesus first modeled for us, then commanded us to do likewise.

In my 2012 book Shrewd (David C. Cook), I describe “shrewd” as a way of thinking and acting that Jesus long ago urged His followers to use in their uprising against the powers and ‘spiritual forces of wickedness’ of this world. Shrewd people—and Jesus is the Exemplar—first study how things work,and then leverage that knowledge to tip the balance in a favored direction. Shrewdness is the expert application of leverage—“the right force at the right time in the right place”—as The Way Things Work author David Macaulay observes. Jesus is perpetually taking what His enemies intend for evil and morphing it into good—He uses their destructive momentum against them, like a martial artist. Most Christians have a negative reaction to the word “shrewd,” but Jesus not only exemplified this way of relating to others in His redemptive mission on earth, He gave us a mandate to grow much, much more adept in our practice of it.

Because I’ve had scores of conversations with people, both young and old, about the mechanics of “innocent shrewdness,” I know people of all ages have experienced repeated failure in their frontal, conventional approaches to problems and challenges in their life. They’re frustrated and lost. And when I simply walk them through a Jesus-centered process of thinking and acting more shrewdly, it’s like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz moving from her flat, black-and-white world into the 3-D colors of Oz. The process, simply, looks like this:

• Answer the question: “What do I really want?” Jesus habitually asked an irritating question of people with obvious needs who approached Him for help: “What do you want?” (e.g., Matt. 20:32; Mark 6:22; Mark 10:36; Mark 10:51; Luke 18:41). We must know what we really want before we can truly ask in faith.

• Answer the question: “Is my ‘want’ born out of innocence? Would I feel just fine asking Jesus for this ‘want’ if I was face-to-face with Him?”

• Answer the question: “How does this (person, organization, or process) work?” Shrewd living always starts with understanding how things work—so spend five minutes brainstorming (either alone or with someone you trust) an answer to this question.

• Based on your understanding of how things work, spend five minutes brainstorming a point of leverage to go after with a “sideways” approach. Sideways means the leverage comes from an unexpected direction—you find “sideways” by experimenting with approaches that carry the force to move the situation.

Now, try one of your options and debrief the results with someone you trust. Decide whether to continue with that option or whether to try a new approach.
Repeat steps #3, #4, and #5 in a continuous loop—until you’ve landed on “the right force at the right time in the right place.”

Rick Lawrence is the author of dozens of books, including Shrewd: Daring to Obey the Startling Command of Jesus (shrewdbook.com) and Sifted: God’s Scandalous Response to Satan’s Outrageous Demand (siftedbook.com) and the upcoming Skin In the Game: Living an Epic Jesus-Centered Life (2015). He’s has been editor of Group Magazine for 26 years and is the co-leader of the Simply Youth Ministry Conference. Rick is a church leader, consultant to national research organizations and a frequent conference and workshop speaker. He and his family live in Colorado.   @RickSkip on Twitter

Learning From Serpents

Five-or-so years ago I was locked in what felt like an all-out war over a dream that was in danger of dying, because a man who was much shrewder than me was bent on stopping it. One day, in my grief and fear and anger over what was about to happen, I felt Jesus sort of “sit me down” and challenge me—it was clear that my “frontal” way of dealing with this situation was not going to work, and He was asking me if I was going to have the courage to move more shrewdly. In the nicey-nice Christian culture that is promoted and perpetuated in most churches, shrewdness is anathema—worse, it’s entirely off the radar as a spiritual practice.

So, in an uncharacteristic spirit of desperation, I asked God to teach me what I needed to know about shrewdness—and He (of course) brought me to Jesus, the source of all good things. The point of Jesus’ “Parable of the Shrewd Manager” (Luke 16:1-8) is specifically to highlight the behavior of a lazy, lying, good-for-nothing servant who has no qualities we’d want to emulate except for one: his shrewd way of saving himself from the consequences of his terrible behavior. Jesus highlights this anti-role-model for one purpose: “The people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.” Later, in preparation for sending out His disciples on their first ministry journey without Him, He tells them to take nothing with them (no clothing, money, or “insurance” of any kind)—instead, He tells them they need just two things:

1. Be as shrewd as a serpent, and

2. Be as innocent as a dove.

The word He uses here for “serpent” is the same one He uses for Satan. And the word He uses here for “dove” is the same the Bible uses to describe the Holy Spirit. Jesus is telling His disciples to be as shrewd as Satan is, but as innocent as the Holy Spirit is. Shrewdness, then, is a way of living and relating that Jesus first modeled for us, then commanded us to do likewise.

In my 2012 book Shrewd (David C. Cook), I describe “shrewd” as a way of thinking and acting that Jesus long ago urged His followers to use in their uprising against the powers and ‘spiritual forces of wickedness’ of this world. Shrewd people—and Jesus is the Exemplar—first study how things work,and then leverage that knowledge to tip the balance in a favored direction. Shrewdness is the expert application of leverage—“the right force at the right time in the right place”—as The Way Things Work author David Macaulay observes. Jesus is perpetually taking what His enemies intend for evil and morphing it into good—He uses their destructive momentum against them, like a martial artist. Most Christians have a negative reaction to the word “shrewd,” but Jesus not only exemplified this way of relating to others in His redemptive mission on earth, He gave us a mandate to grow much, much more adept in our practice of it.

Because I’ve had scores of conversations with people, both young and old, about the mechanics of “innocent shrewdness,” I know people of all ages have experienced repeated failure in their frontal, conventional approaches to problems and challenges in their life. They’re frustrated and lost. And when I simply walk them through a Jesus-centered process of thinking and acting more shrewdly, it’s like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz moving from her flat, black-and-white world into the 3-D colors of Oz. The process, simply, looks like this:

• Answer the question: “What do I really want?” Jesus habitually asked an irritating question of people with obvious needs who approached Him for help: “What do you want?” (e.g., Matt. 20:32; Mark 6:22; Mark 10:36; Mark 10:51; Luke 18:41). We must know what we really want before we can truly ask in faith.

• Answer the question: “Is my ‘want’ born out of innocence? Would I feel just fine asking Jesus for this ‘want’ if I was face-to-face with Him?”

• Answer the question: “How does this (person, organization, or process) work?” Shrewd living always starts with understanding how things work—so spend five minutes brainstorming (either alone or with someone you trust) an answer to this question.

• Based on your understanding of how things work, spend five minutes brainstorming a point of leverage to go after with a “sideways” approach. Sideways means the leverage comes from an unexpected direction—you find “sideways” by experimenting with approaches that carry the force to move the situation.

Now, try one of your options and debrief the results with someone you trust. Decide whether to continue with that option or whether to try a new approach.
Repeat steps #3, #4, and #5 in a continuous loop—until you’ve landed on “the right force at the right time in the right place.”

Rick Lawrence is the author of dozens of books, including Shrewd: Daring to Obey the Startling Command of Jesus (shrewdbook.com) and Sifted: God’s Scandalous Response to Satan’s Outrageous Demand (siftedbook.com) and the upcoming Skin In the Game: Living an Epic Jesus-Centered Life (2015). He’s has been editor of Group Magazine for 26 years and is the co-leader of the Simply Youth Ministry Conference. Rick is a church leader, consultant to national research organizations and a frequent conference and workshop speaker. He and his family live in Colorado.   @RickSkip on Twitter

You need Jesus…and -Sarah Bessey

You need Jesus….. and circumcision.

You need Jesus …. and baptism.

You need Jesus … and the right voting record.

You need Jesus … and natural family planning.

You need Jesus … and modesty.

You need Jesus … and an accountability partner.

You need Jesus … and a social justice cause.

You need Jesus … and the right denominational label.

You need Jesus … and a tithe cheque receipt.

You need Jesus … and a purity ring.

You need Jesus … and feminism.

You need Jesus …. and Bible memorization.

You need Jesus …. and organic food.

You need Jesus … and fair trade.

You need Jesus … and an engagement with pop culture.

You need Jesus … and your rights to assault weapons.

You need Jesus … and a moral majority.

You need Jesus … and a church membership.

You need Jesus … and a proper education.

You need Jesus … and a podcast preacher.

You need Jesus … and a pristine personal history.

You need Jesus … and a husband.

You need Jesus …. and a baby.

You need Jesus … and a worship experience.

You need Jesus … and an hour of daily quiet time.

You need Jesus … and a certain size on your clothing.

You need Jesus … and a pledge of allegiance.

You need Jesus … and a political party.

You need Jesus … and to keep your kids in Sunday school.

You need Jesus … and approved doctrines.

You need Jesus … and an altar call.

You need Jesus … and prosperity.

You need Jesus … and poverty.

You need Jesus … and an official sanctioned prayer.

You need Jesus … and and and and and and…..

Let go of your “should” and your “ought to” and your “need to” and your implied and overt “and” attachments to Jesus. Live like Jesus is enough, and remember you do not earn any part of your redemption.

You don’t need to be qualified by a committee. You are accepted because, simply, He is enough. You can relax. You are loved and you are free.

You don’t need anymore “and” in your life. Jesus is enough.

Jesus is enough.

God alone is enough, yesterday, today, and forever.

Wildflowers, sparrows, you, me, listen: ” What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” (Matthew 6:31-33 MSG)

Sarah Bessey is the author of “Jesus Feminist”, a disarming and beautiful invitation to the Kingdom of God waiting on the other side of the Church’s gender debates. She is an award-winning blogger at www.sarahbessey.com, an editor at A Deeper Story, a contributor for SheLoves Magazine, and a passionate advocate for global women’s justice issues. One of those happy-clappy Jesus-followers, Sarah is a recovering know-it-all, far too fond of British television, and a bookworm. She lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada, with her husband and their three tinies.

 

You need Jesus…and

You need Jesus….. and circumcision.

You need Jesus …. and baptism.

You need Jesus … and the right voting record.

You need Jesus … and natural family planning.

You need Jesus … and modesty.

You need Jesus … and an accountability partner.

You need Jesus … and a social justice cause.

You need Jesus … and the right denominational label.

You need Jesus … and a tithe cheque receipt.

You need Jesus … and a purity ring.

You need Jesus … and feminism.

You need Jesus …. and Bible memorization.

You need Jesus …. and organic food.

You need Jesus … and fair trade.

You need Jesus … and an engagement with pop culture.

You need Jesus … and your rights to assault weapons.

You need Jesus … and a moral majority.

You need Jesus … and a church membership.

You need Jesus … and a proper education.

You need Jesus … and a podcast preacher.

You need Jesus … and a pristine personal history.

You need Jesus … and a husband.

You need Jesus …. and a baby.

You need Jesus … and a worship experience.

You need Jesus … and an hour of daily quiet time.

You need Jesus … and a certain size on your clothing.

You need Jesus … and a pledge of allegiance.

You need Jesus … and a political party.

You need Jesus … and to keep your kids in Sunday school.

You need Jesus … and approved doctrines.

You need Jesus … and an altar call.

You need Jesus … and prosperity.

You need Jesus … and poverty.

You need Jesus … and an official sanctioned prayer.

You need Jesus … and and and and and and…..

Let go of your “should” and your “ought to” and your “need to” and your implied and overt “and” attachments to Jesus. Live like Jesus is enough, and remember you do not earn any part of your redemption.

You don’t need to be qualified by a committee. You are accepted because, simply, He is enough. You can relax. You are loved and you are free.

You don’t need anymore “and” in your life. Jesus is enough.

Jesus is enough.

God alone is enough, yesterday, today, and forever.

Wildflowers, sparrows, you, me, listen: ” What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” (Matthew 6:31-33 MSG)

Sarah Bessey is the author of “Jesus Feminist”, a disarming and beautiful invitation to the Kingdom of God waiting on the other side of the Church’s gender debates. She is an award-winning blogger at www.sarahbessey.com, an editor at A Deeper Story, a contributor for SheLoves Magazine, and a passionate advocate for global women’s justice issues. One of those happy-clappy Jesus-followers, Sarah is a recovering know-it-all, far too fond of British television, and a bookworm. She lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada, with her husband and their three tinies.

 

A Radical Idea- Ted Dekker

It’s time to let some thoughts die so that you can rise again. With one new thought, your life can radically change.

 

Sound impossible? Well, it is until you learn to use that one thought.  Maybe ‘thought’ is too narrow a word to describe the power I speak of, but it can and will transform any relationship, any job, any family, any financial challenge, and above all, your self-image. It’s found in an old word that’s been vastly misunderstood.

 

Forgiveness. Not how we see it, but in the radical way Jesus saw it.

 

Boring, you say. Been there, done that. Yawn…

 

Really? Then you are indeed a Water Walker. But in this Easter season I’m going to show you a new side of this powerful medicine that can change everything. Hear me out for just a moment… It’s worth five minutes.

 

The opposite of forgiveness is grievance and/or offense. If you regret something in the past, you hold a grievance against it. If thoughts of a past event cause you pain today, you hold a grievance. If you are anxious about tomorrow, it’s actually caused by a grievance against what might happen. If you think you’re too heavy, or are upset that you’re sick, you have a grievance against yourself.

 

Our lives are run by grievance—even something as small as having a grievance against the annoying sound of someone chewing too loudly causes us to suffer.

 

Think of all these challenges as the waves on the stormy seas of your life. They threaten to pull you under and drown you. Memories of the past wrongs, fears about future hardship—they all keep you shrinking from life right now. They are your prison.

 

Our greatest grievances are almost always found in close relationships—in my case, my parents who were missionaries. For many years I buried the pain that came from being abandoned by them at age six when I found myself isolated and completely lost in a boarding school for most of each year. I cried myself to sleep for months, I am told, though I only remember the first few grueling nights.

 

Only now, decades later, have I radically changed my perception of those years of suffering as something perfectly acceptable by forgiving—or letting go—of any judgment against the situation and the people involved. I’ve let go of an ugly vision of the past and replaced it with love and beauty. I’ve forgiven the past, not by absolving it, but by calling it good, you see? By attributing innocence rather than guilt to those who put me in that situation.

 

By letting blame die, so that you can leave them in the grave and rise again.

 

I can hear some saying, “That’s absurd, you don’t know my circumstances.” That’s true, I don’t. But I do know the circumstances in which Jesus practiced and taught us this staggering truth.

 

My thoughts today grew out of a journey I’ve been taking to re-discover the Way of Yeshua for an upcoming novel titled A.D. 30 which comes out in October. I discovered that none of us were seeing forgiveness the way he taught it.

 

Most people see forgiveness as a kind of absolution (you wronged me and I choose to absolve you of that injustice, though it’s my right to hold it against you.) Jesus, instead, spoke of seeing no fault in the first place by re-characterizing the injustice. He slept through a terrifying life-threatening storm, then awoke to ask his disciples why they were afraid. He saw no danger. You see, the key is to see no threat from the storm through the eyes of faith. It was how he could walk on water, seeing no threat.

 

But Jesus went much further, speaking of forgiveness while being abused. And this is the lesson for us on Easter.

 

Those beating him knew exactly what they were doing, yes? They were torturing him! And yet Jesus had the audacity to say, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He saw the innocence of those abusing him and offered them love in return, following his own teaching to turn the other cheek when attacked by others and to offer that enemy love instead of judgment. As such, his power was stunning.

 

You see… The cross was death, all that weight of the world. But we live in the resurrection. Taking up your cross is in part letting your offense die so that you too might rise. Will you instead spend the rest of your days on the cross?

 

One thought: “Forgive them for they know not what they do.” Meaning, they are innocent. No Blame!

 

Put to death blame. Then rise again without that cross that bears you down. One thought and your world will immediately shift in any given situation. No more grievance against husband, wife, daughter, son, father, boss, friend, self. You are free for you have not been wronged.

 

This is what Jesus asks us to do (Col 3:13: Forgive others in the same way the Lord forgave you) knowing that it frees the one who forgives far more than the one forgiven. The idea of letting go is deeply repulsive to our natural minds and doing so completely is perhaps impossible without knowing our Father’s love in a profound way. But its transformative power cannot be denied.

 

On the flip side, unless or until we do let go of our offense against any particular situation or person, we remain imprisoned by it. This, too, cannot be denied.

 

Imagine what your life would be like if you could immediately let go of any hurt caused you by any person or situation—if you had no fear of the future bringing you pain. But you can! Try it. Be free of fear and pain and embrace the life you have through forgiveness this Easter. Speak forgiveness to the storm and the waves that seem to threaten you. Walk over the troubled seas in your life.

 

Try it and feel your spirit soar. This is the Way of Jesus in A.D 30 and now.

 

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Gun Control and Santa Barbara

In light of the recent terrorist attack in Santa Barbara I decided to write totally off topic.  This is my gun control proposal. Simple, clear and direct.

First of all, you need to know that I’m for the right to bear arms.  (Loosely given to citizens in the Second Amendment, although it arguably applies to local militias not every citizen. And “citizen” meant something very different 200 years ago anyway.)  I have belonged to the NRA, although I don’t currently.  I am an avid hunter. I love to shoot clay pigeons and I belong to a hunting and shooting club east of Denver. Everyone I knew growing up had guns.  We used them to hunt animals which we ate.  Sometimes we just went out in a field and shot coffee cans full of water.  Pretty fun stuff.

So I’m not against owning guns. Quite the contrary. I own several.

And it’s hard to say what Jesus would say or do in this case.  He’s silent on most issues of the state, seemingly happy to leave it to our good (or bad) judgment.

Like so many arguments, both sides react to the extremes of the other side and then, in turn, overreact.  The extreme on one side (that I grew up with) says something like this:  We can’t make any regulations on gun ownership because it’s a slippery slope.  We ban one gun and the next thing you know we become a communist state where only the government has guns.  Oh, and the criminals.

The other side sees that as a silly reactionary argument and points to the waves of gun crimes that are unique to America and says things like this: No one really needs a gun. They don’t need to hunt because we have grocery stories.  Places like England and Australia, where guns are difficult to acquire have very little gun violence.

So here’s my proposal:

1.  No one can buy a gun unless they are 21 and an American citizen.   (I’m speaking for Americans only here.)

2.  They have to pass a rigorous background test.  Criminal records or mental illness means they cannot own a gun.

3. There should be a 5 day waiting period.  (That would be how long the background test takes.)  If someone needs a gun NOW there’s a problem.

4.  All assault weapons are banned and the ban is retroactive on guns already owned. There’s a buy-back program for such weapons.

5. Only licensed dealers can sell guns. Not pawn shops and not individuals.

Most statistics say there are nearly 300 million guns in the hands of American civilians.  That’s almost one per person.  So the effect of these laws would take time.  It’s not a quick fix, but does address the issue in a reasonable and responsible manner.

Healthy adult citizens of America should not be nervous about a background check or a waiting period. If the firearm is being purchased for hunting or recreational shooting then it can surely wait 5 days.  Only criminals need guns “today.”

It’s time we call our lawmakers to account on this issue.  No more extreme posturing as if this is too difficult to solve.  It’s not at all.  Repost this and let’s see if we can get some traction.

carl

Water to Wine- Brian Zahnd

Water to Wine by Hyatt Moore

Ten years later it’s time to tell some of my story…

I was halfway to ninety, midway through life, and I’d reached a full-blown crisis. Call it a garden variety mid-life crisis if you want, but it was something more than that. You might say it was a theological crisis, though that makes it sound too cerebral. The unease I felt came from a deeper place than a mental file labeled “theology.” My life was like that U2 song stuck on repeat — I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. I was wrestling with an uneasy feeling that the kind of Christianity I had built my life around was somehow deficient. Not wrong, but lacking. It seemed watery and weak. In my most honest moments I couldn’t help but notice that the Christianity I knew seemed to lack the kind of robust authenticity that made Jesus so fascinating. And I’d always been utterly fascinated by Jesus. Jesus wasn’t in question, but Christianity American style was.

I became a committed Christian during the Jesus Movement. I was the high school “Jesus freak” and by the tender age of twenty-two I had founded a church — as ridiculous as that sounds now! After a prolonged slow start I eventually enjoyed what most would call a “successful ministry.” At one point during the 1990’s our church was dubbed “one of the twenty fastest growing churches in America.” I was a success. Ta-da!

But by 2003, now in my mid-forties, I had become, what shall I say?…bored, restless, discontent. From a certain perspective things couldn’t have been better. I had a large church with a large staff supported by a large budget worshiping in a large complex. I was large and in charge! I had made it to the big time. But I had become increasingly dissatisfied. I was weary of the tired clichés of bumper-sticker evangelicalism. I was disenchanted by a paper-thin Christianity propped up by cheap certitude. The politicized faith of the Religious Right was driving me crazy. I was yearning for something deeper, richer, fuller. Let me say it this way — I was in Cana and the wine had run out. I needed Jesus to perform a miracle.

Don’t misunderstand me, my faith in Jesus never wavered. This wasn’t a “crisis of faith” in that sense. I believed in Jesus! What I knew was that Jesus deserved something better than “cotton candy Christianity.” Like Bilbo Baggins I felt “thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” I’d reached the point where something had to be done. I was no longer satisfied with the “cutting edge” and “successful.” I had lost my appetite for the mass-produced soda-like Christianity of pop-culture America. I wanted vintage wine from old vines. I don’t know exactly how I knew this, but I knew it.

Guided by little more than instinct I began reading the Early Church Fathers. I started with Clement and Polycarp and moved on from there. I found Athanasius more relevant than the Christian bestsellers. I resonated with Gregory of Nyssa. I found a kindred soul in Maximus the Confessor. I read Augustine’s Confessions several times in different translations and was deeply moved by it. I was beginning to develop a palate for the aged wine of historic Christianity.

By the end of 2003 something had to give. I wasn’t content to merely read about an ancient Christianity — I didn’t want to be a historian and I wasn’t interested in the fool’s errand of trying to recreate the past. I was a 21st century pastor and I needed to find out how to live and lead others into a richer Christianity…except I really had no idea of how to go about it. So I did something crazy.

In what I now regard as a kind of holy madness I made a desperate bid. I began the first twenty-two days of 2004 in prayer and fasting. I ate nothing during that time. For twenty-two days I did nothing other than pray during the day, sleep at night, and preach at the appointed times. (By the way, I do not recommend this to anyone!) The long days of solitary prayer were a grind. It didn’t feel glorious. It felt like death. It was death. A long fast is dying. Literally. I wasted away to a 130 pounds. People thought I was sick. I looked sick. I felt so weak. I remember thinking, “I’m dying.” And that was more true than I could have known! The whole first half of my life was dying — a half of life characterized by the necessary, but ultimately unfulfilling, quest for certitude and success. As Richard Rohr describes it, I was about to “fall upward” into the second half of life. But it wouldn’t be easy. When the twenty-two days were over I didn’t feel like I had leaped to a new level, I felt like I had fallen down a flight of stairs. I was bruised and battered. But this much was for sure — things had changed. There would be no going back.

I had to move beyond the grape juice of motivational-seminar, you-can-have-it-all, success-in-life, pop-Christianity. It’s a children’s drink. It comes with a straw and is served in a little cardboard box. I couldn’t drink that anymore. I couldn’t serve that anymore. In August I told my church I was packing my bags and moving on from “cotton candy Christianity.” They applauded. Except neither they nor I really knew what would come next. The problem was I was embarrassingly ignorant of “the good stuff.” Yes, I was reading the Early Church Fathers, some philosophy, and classic literature. Saint Augustine, Søren Kierkegaard, and Fyodor Dostoevsky were a big help, but I needed something that spoke more directly to the time in which I was living. I needed a deep well dug in my own time and place.

On an August afternoon in 2004 I was at home browsing my bookshelves. I was deliberately looking for a book that would “give me a breakthrough.” I couldn’t settle on anything. So I prayed: “God, show me what to read.” And I sensed…nothing. I went downstairs feeling a bit agitated and slumped into a chair. Within a minute or two my wife walked into the room, handed me a book and said, “I think you should read this.” She knew nothing of my moments ago prayer, but she had just handed me a book, and told me to read it. This was my Augustine-like “take and read” moment. It was The Divine Conspiracy by Dallas Willard. That book changed my life. Hyperbole? No. Stone-cold fact.

Dallas Willard was my gateway to the good stuff. Directly or indirectly reading Willard led to others: N.T. Wright, Walter Brueggemann, Eugene Peterson, Frederick Buechner, Stanley Hauerwas, John Howard Yoder, René Girard, Miroslav Volf, Karl Barth, Hans Urs von Balthasar, David Bentley Hart, Wendell Berry, Scot McKnight, Thomas Merton, Richard Rohr, and so many more. I couldn’t read fast enough. Night after night I was up past midnight reading, reading, reading. I was making up for lost time. I kept thinking, where have you been all my life?! I had struck gold and I couldn’t pull it out of the ground fast enough. I was a gold miner. I became a self-imposed prisoner in my own late night seminary. Over the next few years I read myself into a completely new and much richer place.

The gold I was discovering was changing my preaching — significantly. But not everyone liked the change. People I had known, loved, and led for many years were beginning to dig their heels in or bail out. Some didn’t like my “new direction.” In their frustration they lashed out. Some said I was becoming “emergent.” (I honestly didn’t know what that was — and I don’t think they did either.) Others said I was becoming “liberal” or “too intellectual.” Some of my less articulate critics simply opted for “backslidden.” One Sunday morning a longtime church member cornered me with a harangue about “what happened to the real Pastor Brian?” According to him I had ceased to be myself and had become an imposter. These comments hurt. People leaving hurt. It hurt more than I let on. But there was no going back. You can’t un-know what you know and be true to yourself. The pain of being misunderstood and misrepresented was part of the price for obtaining the vintage wine of substantive Christianity.

No matter what others thought, I knew what was happening. I was saving my soul. I was discovering Jesus afresh. I was encountering an unvarnished Jesus; a Jesus free from the lacquer of cheap religious certitude, tawdry motivational jargon, and partisan political agenda. I was being born again…again. I was gaining new eyes. Jesus was turning my water into wine!

Now whenever I see the date 2004 on something, I think, Oh, I remember that year! That was the year that everything changed for me! I quite seriously think of my life as pre- and post-2004. First half and second half. Before and after. Then and now. 2004 is the watershed, the continental divide of my life. It wasn’t a pleasant year — it was a painful year — but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not for anything! The beautiful Christianity I have found in the second half of life could not have come into being apart from the pain of 2004. That was the year water began to turn to wine.

BZ

 

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Why I Do What I Do

Our daughter asked me a couple months ago – once she saw all that we’re doing, “Dad why do you do all these things? Do you enjoy them?”

 

It’s actually a really good question. Chris and I have been touring around the eastern part of the Arabian Gulf for a month now, visiting friends and making new ones.  Traveling from city to city via our little rented Nissan Sunny (Sentra, in the States).Getting lost.  Trying to find the right turn on our GPS that seems as lost as we are. Sleeping in different beds and in homes with people we don’t always know.  Meeting someone one day and having dinner with them the next.

 

Why do we do this?

 

The next Simply Jesus gathering is about to be announced.  An amazing list of gifted speakers who love and communicate the heart of Jesus as well as anyone in the world. Next April – 2015.  It’s a ton of work.  Hundreds of hours already and we’re 11 months away.  Contracts and negotiations . Hotels and flights and who gets to speak in which time slot. (No one wants the Friday afternoon at 4:00 time….odd.)

 

Why do we do this?

 

The 100 plus emails a day that make me tired – and I have three people who help answer them. The seemingly endless amount of administration that these trips require.  Passports and visas. Plane tickets and car rentals.  Money needing to be raised.  Gifts given by total strangers.  New BFF’s and always a few who don’t like the way I do or say something.  Facebook and Twitter pages to be managed and blogs to be written.

 

Why do we do this?

 

William Jessup University online courses to teach – six of them to be exact.  Can you imagine how much works that’s been?  I spent two years languishing in internal bureaucracy before they even began last Fall.  Now we have six courses with four professors, and man is it ever a ton of work.

 

Why do we do this?

 

Answer:  Jesus.  And here’s what I mean by that:

 

Jesus has called us to follow him and this is where he’s led us.  Simple as that.  It’s not to “save people.”  It’s not to preach. It’s not to start things.  Or to have a voice, or a platform. It’s because he’s asked us to.  I think we used to call this “Obedience.” Sort of a lost word in our vocabulary.

 

I like to call it having Adventures in saying YES.  (Oh, that’s the title of my new book.)

 

It’s for Jesus. It’s to him. It’s with him. It’s by him. All is for him – because he is worth it.  And….it’s an adventure.  You should join.

 

Jesus and Ileana- Brad Corrigan

Jesus & Ileana.

 

I love these two names so much.

 

One name means ‘Son of God’… and the other ‘God answers’.

 

They’re also more than names to me.  They’re the two most powerful stories in my life.

 

I never knew Jesus, but thankfully a handful of people who did – and loved Jesus like family – wrote many things down about him.

 

I’m so thankful. I feel like I get to know him now because of others’ ink and love shared.

 

And then somehow His story became mine? I don’t really know how or when, but the more I considered Jesus and all that people wrote about him, the more he became real and fully alive to me. And the more I reflected on who he was the more I wanted to actually be more like him and less like myself?

 

But after several years, somewhere in that process the words of those stories about Jesus started to become too familiar. And I heard a lot of other versions of the same stories told from lots of different peoples’ mouths, and they just didn’t sound the same. They sounded religious. So I started wearing Jesus like clothes, and he became more of a moral style for me and less a King, savior, friend, and protector. I started falling back into my own story, and thought well maybe this Jesus isn’t so fully alive, but I am. So I will just focus on becoming the best version of me that I can.

 

And then I met her. Ileana. A little girl from a trash dump in Central America. Like a little white rose growing in a war zone. There was just something so fiery, hopeful and alive in her that I could not get her out of my head or heart. She wrecked and derailed me the way she lived with such courage and love despite the living hell that she called home. I don’t really know how or when, but the more I walked with Ileana the more her story became mine. Her pain was my pain. Her joy was my joy. Her laughter, my laughter.

 

 

 

She often needed food for herself and family, clean water, and sometimes medicine.  And the heartbeat of Jesus grew louder and louder in me each time I was able to serve her. I learned about horrible things that she faced and could feel a righteous Godly anger beginning to burn in my chest. But, whenever she would laugh the peace of Jesus would cover my mind and wash all anxiety away.

 

Ileana’s lightning smile and courage in the face of drug addiction, forced prostitution, and violence awakened something divine in me and called out the stories of Jesus written on my heart. Ileana loved me as purely and unconditionally as I had ever experienced in my life. Through Ileana I was touching the face of God. Through Ileana Jesus was taking hold of my life again from the inside out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then she quietly passed away.

 

So now I have her story to tell.

 

God answers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To learn more about Ileana’s story and lightning smile please CLICK HERE.

 Brad Corrigan