Fellowship of Saints and Sinners

Fellowship of Saints and Sinners

If Jesus were a CEO Pastor…

"Take nothing with you...except for a good suit, this watch, and oh, here's your quota. And take the client to a really nice restaurant, too, because image is everything."

If Jesus were a CEO pastor, then…

…before the sending out of the disciples, he would have canvassed the neighborhoods around Palestine before devising a marketing strategy (Matthew 10).

…he would have sent the disciples out, in the spirit of Steve Carrell’s character, Michael Scott, from “The Office,” in suits, with Armani watches, leather brief cases, the church credit card and a “sales quota” for church membership expansion.

…he would have used billboards, newspaper ads and every manner of slick advertising to attract people to his church.

…he would have read all the motivational, self-help books out there, including Dave Kraft’s Leaders Who Last- (see fellow saint and sinner Tammy Perlutter’s review, which inspired this list and which you can read in the post that follows)- and he would have preached like it, too.

…he would have crafted a vision statement and strategic plan with measurable outcomes at least every couple years just to stay current with “church growth” trends.

…he would have picked his followers based on looks, business background, pedigree and/or how well they could give to the annual stewardship campaign.

…he would have had little time for sick people with all manner of afflictions because they would be a drain on his time (forget about healing, in other words!).

…he would have approached all relationships with a view to what they can do for his image and his church.

…he would have cultivated and employed his celebrity status, seizing every photo opp and interview with the ancient “press corps” rather than keeping his identity as “Messiah” such a big secret.

…he would have taught his disciples to pray, “my kingdom come, my will be done.”

…he would have used a good lawyer to help him avoid a very inconvenient, not to mention painful, crucifixion (which would have ruined his reputation after all).

…he would have never showed his scars, because that would have meant he had been wounded- and he would have taught his disciples to do the same.  (“The Golden Rule” for effective CEO pastors? “Never show your vulnerabilities.”)

I’m so glad Jesus was not a CEO pastor, because it means He has time for people like you and me- and He chooses to use people like you and me, too.

 

“Terminator and Jesus”

This video, which came out some years back, lends some humor to all the Internet buzz around “masculine” versus “feminine” Christianity.  I stumbled on it thanks to David Lumley, who posted it on friend Michael Frost’s FB page.  (Thanks, David!)  I can’t think of a better caricature of “macho masculinity” than the Terminator, can you?  Which makes me wonder what the feminine analog might be in the way of a caricature. Maybe Charlotte from “Sex in the City”?  Or, some helpless waif from a Disney fairy tale? Got any ideas?

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The Heresy of Masculine Christianity: A Response to John Piper

John Piper, pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, advocates "masculine Christianity."

The other day my son’s pre-K teacher commended him for continuing with his work when the other kids around him were goofing off.  My son had gone on dutifully coloring away with his crayons when he could have been lured away from the task at hand.  I was proud of my son, with one corrective: that if he were ever to see one of his classmates playing in such a way as to hurt him or another child, he must stop what he is doing and speak up.

Which is why I have decided to put my crayons down, too, and respond to the latest calls by popular evangelical thinker, writer and Baptist minister, John Piper, for a “masculine Christianity.”  Sadly, I fear that Piper’s so-called “biblical” theology is yet one more example of how we evangelicals are just as guilty as liberal Christians were at the turn of the twentieth century, for example, of making God into our own image and twisting Scripture to fit our own agendas, with the result being very damaging implications for our life together as men and women equally called and gifted to serve Christ and Christ’s mission in the world.

“Heresy” is a strong word- in previous ages, Piper could have been burned at the stake- but here I employ the term not to argue that Piper should be barbecued, but rather, to demonstrate how Piper’s proposed “masculine Christianity” actually departs from orthodox Christianity as defined by the creeds of the early church.  Of greatest issue here is Piper’s problematic treatment of the nature of God, which in turn influences how he reads Scripture and the nature of what it means to be “made in the image of God”: “God has revealed himself to us in the Bible pervasively as King, not Queen, and as Father, not Mother,” Piper writes. “The second person of the Trinity is revealed as the eternal Son. The Father and the Son created man and woman in his image, and gave them together the name of the man, Adam (Genesis 5:2).”

Strikingly, Piper’s description of the divine nature completely ignores the unique personhood and participation of the Third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.  In Piper’s construction of “masculine Christianity,” “She” has gone painfully missing.  She is, in Hebrew, the feminine ruach: She is present from the very beginning, hovering over the waters at creation and infusing the man and the woman with the very breath of God; and it is She who alights first on Jesus’ head in the form of a dove, authorizing and blessing Jesus’ mission, and then on the heads of the first followers of Jesus at Pentecost, empowering and sending them out to participate in God’s mission.  Without the Spirit, God’s mission in and through the church is dead.  No Spirit? No mission.

Whether intentionally or not, Piper implicitly denies the existence and divinity of the Third Person of the Trinity in his construction of a masculine God- a fact which places him in the ranks of the fourth-century “Pneumatomachianists”- how is that for a mouthful?- whose teachings rejecting the divinity of the Holy Spirit were condemned as a departure from orthodoxy at the First Council of Constantinople in 381 and later at the Council of Chalcedon in 451. And it is this heretical view of the nature of God that in turn allows Piper to read Scripture as an affirmation of manhood at the expense of womanhood. Within Piper’s framework, manhood subsumes womanhood and implicitly takes on a kind of salvific role, precisely because Piper chooses to emphasize the necessity of the Father and the Son’s male gender, in turn linking it with what it means to be “made in God’s image.”  If we were really to tease out the implications of this stilted reasoning, though, Jesus’ maleness, rather than his humanity, becomes necessary for salvation (insofar as salvation is the restoration of God’s image, despoiled by sin, in us): what Jesus has not assumed in human form (in this case, the female nature), Jesus cannot actually save after all (a theological statement first established at the Council of Nicea with the affirmation that Jesus was and is both “fully human and fully divine”).

Piper goes on to lift up only those parts of Scripture that would support the notion that God wants Christianity to “have a masculine feel,” leaving us to assume that Scripture makes little room for more feminine ways of describing God or for honoring women’s equal contributions to God’s mission.  And nothing could be further from the case: God is a mother bird who longs to shelter her children under her wings; God is Wisdom personified as a woman; the Samaritan woman at the well becomes arguably the first apostle; and the Syro-Phoenician woman, in her dogged faith, is the only person recorded in Scripture to actually change Jesus’ mind.  Of course there are many more biblical affirmations of God’s feminine nature and women’s important role in God’s mission. These are only a few.

There is also clear historical evidence to show that women in first-century, household churches were serving Christ equally alongside men (as opposed to “coming alongside” men, as Piper would prefer to describe women’s role in ministry); this, in response to Piper’s heavy reliance on passages such as 1 Timothy 2:12 and Ephesians 5:22-33 to support a traditionally patriarchal approach to marriage and church leadership.  I could go on.

In conclusion, Piper’s argument is not most damaging because it is heretical- although by drawing notice to the heresy inherent in Piper’s theology, I do hope to reduce the potential of such biblically dressed chauvinism to only further centuries of harm done in the name of God against women.  (Piper is, afterall, and rightfully so in many ways, a very influential and respected leader in the church; people take what he has to say very seriously.)

Piper’s case is most damaging because of its implications for God’s mission, however.  The Triune God we worship is a God who, in the power of the Holy Spirit, anoints, sends and equips both men and women to witness to and minister God’s love in Jesus Christ in all manner of ways.  This “Three-in-One” God is not an exclusively “masculine” God; nor is this God an exclusively “feminine” God; this God is One whose image we all bear, male, female or transgender, and whose saving love we all have the capacity to receive and share. When we deny the fully free, fully equal, fully invested collaboration of males and females as modeled within the Godhead Itself, we no longer occupy the Good News that God really is restoring the world.  Nor are we able to effectively share that Good News in life-giving ways, either.

“The Toil of Freedom,” in Honor of Black History Month

Screenwriter and producer Okorie Johnson is working on the forthcoming film, "Canopy."

“How do we embrace the toil of freedom?” That is the question that friend, screenwriter and producer Okorie Johnson sets out to answer in his forthcoming film, “Canopy.” As an introspective look at how one particular African American struggles to pursue his dreams in his own context (Atlanta, Georgia), the film lifts up one unique strand of a very rich tapestry of contemporary African American experience.

Freedom bought at a high price- in this case, through the long, hard struggle of civil rights activists and the suffering of their ancestors who once sang about hope and a future while in shackles- carries great responsibility.  For at least one segment of today’s generation of African Americans, the question thus becomes, “How do we honor the legacy of that hard-fought struggle for freedom?”  Okorie’s answer seems to be this: that we let nothing, including our own shortcomings, stand in the way of our dreams.

Are there implications here for how we might understand the nature of Christian freedom, too? I think so. Centuries ago many in the early church gave their lives as witness to their faith, and today we see similar acts of courageous martyrdom by followers of Christ all around the world in places of repression.  What does it mean, then, to live into freedom and embrace freedom’s responsibilities and toil when this kind of martyrdom marks our story?

In the spirit of black history month, and with a view to furthering the work of other passionate, creative tellers of life-giving stories, I commend “Canopy” to you.  You can find a teaser for the film here:

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Stay tuned for tomorrow’s  “The Heresy of Masculine Christianity: A Response to John Piper.”

“The Lamb of God”: Jesus Epithets Continued

"And don't apologize. Every time I try to talk to someone it's 'sorry this' and 'forgive me that' and 'I'm not worthy'." -God, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"

“Look!, [John the Baptist] said.  “There’s God’s lamb!  He’s the one who takes away the world’s sin!” -John 1:29

“God is angry with us every day,” someone exclaimed to me the other day.

And if truth be told, there was a time in my life when I really believed this, too- or at least the way I often unconsciously related to God embodied this view. Within the recesses of a stern, muscle-flexing, fire-and-brimstone presentation of the Gospel, in which we were all “sinners in the hands of an angry God” (to quote the nineteenth century preacher Johnathan Edwards), God seemed a bit like a crotchety, old grandfather with an undiagnosed case of bipolar disorder, seeking often violently and unpredictably to stamp out my inherent sinfulness…and I?  I could never measure up.  I had to be on guard not to tick God off. Which ultimately meant abiding by a “gospel” of constant guilt and sin management.

I am still recovering.

John the Baptist’s language for Jesus as “the lamb of God” who takes away the sins of the world is, therefore, problematic for me, in the same way that so much of the Bible’s language around sacrificial “blood offerings” to appease an angry, bloodthirsty God is.  Why does the God of the Old Testament seem so beholden to these violent demonstrations of repentance? Why couldn’t God ask Abraham to do something other than sacrifice his own son?  Why not have Abraham plant a tree instead- or a forest, for that matter? Or, if this were not costly enough, why not demand that Abraham give away all his possessions to the poor?  How is it, moreover, that this same God can in turn sacrifice His only Son as a kind of peace offering with all humanity- a way to “atone” for our erring ways and, in turn, restore our relationship?

These questions linger.   But whereas for many of us today, sacrificial language is archaic and disturbing at best, for John the Baptist, this way of describing God’s work would have resonated deeply: “the blood of the lamb” was the distinguishing mark of rescue for God’s people, Israel, in their flight from captivity under Egyptian rule; and it was this miraculous liberation that the annual celebration of “Passover” signified.  It is not a coincidence, then, that in John’s Gospel, Jesus’ death occurs on the very day of Passover.  Jesus for the Gospel writer is the sacrificial lamb who takes upon himself not just the sins of the Jewish people but of the whole world, thereby fulfilling God’s prophecy that Israel will be a “blessing” to all the nations.

But how do we retrieve this very uncomfortable imagery of Jesus as the sacrificial lamb for our time?  I would propose that one way is by consulting other places in Scripture.  Later in John, Jesus is also the Good Shepherd who “lays down” his life for the sheep.  In the act of Jesus’ self-offering on the cross, the Shepherd identifies so closely with His sheep that He takes their place.  Jesus stands in for the most vulnerable, misguided, wayward, bleating lambs among us who have “gone astray,” or gotten stuck in the bramble or are up against a wall with a wolf breathing down their neck, and Jesus says, essentially, “I am in your court.” And this identification with us, precisely because it is God (as opposed to just another human being) acting as both Shepherd and lamb, is life-giving.

There is another way to reconstruct this language of Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.  Enter again Mechthild de Magdeburg.  In a brilliant, speculative move, Mechthild imagines a dialogue at the beginning of time between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit- a conversation in which the Son and the Holy Spirit cajole the Father into creating human beings out of the Triune God’s overflow of divine love, knowing full well what may come of this act of love (the Fall and human beings’ willful disobedience) but desiring it out of love, anyway.

Later, Mechthild imagines the convening of another “council,” this time to decide what to do about “the filth” that human beings have since made of the gift of being formed in God’s image (III, 9).  This time around, the Son, again supported by His Advocate, the Holy Spirit, kneels before His Father and asks for His father’s blessing to “take bloody humanity” upon Himself, so that He might “atone” for “human guilt” by “anointing humankind’s wounds with the blood of His innocence” and “binding all human beings’ sores with the cloth of wretched disgrace” (III, 9).  Here again God must be persuaded to redeem us, and God is. “Love wins,” so to speak.

Within Mechthild’s imaginative framework, then, the “Lamb of God” is no helplessly bound sacrificial child led off to slaughter by a sadistic father: Jesus actually subverts our often mechanical, guilt-and-fear-laden approaches to sacrifice, and instead by His own free choice, without any coercion from the Father and purely as an act of great love and power, becomes the divine Scapegoat, the One whom we are invited to blame for our existential “guilt” and aimlessness. And this Jesus, according to Mechthild, must come to our defense within the Triune God Itself.  This Jesus must convince an undecided Father about the necessity and glory of His mission.

This, I suspect, is the beginning of what it means to proclaim today that Jesus is the “Lamb of God”: God’s outpouring of love freely given for us, as a kind of covering or olive branch for all the ways that we in our existential guilt can project all kinds of things on God and one another.  Now we don’t have to walk around thinking that God is angry at us all the time.

 

 

“The Making of a Girl”

This video is an intimate look at the systemic nature of the commercial sexual exploitation and domestic trafficking of women and girls.  The woman in the video who is narrating the story is herself a survivor of sexual exploitation, and she, through a ministry called “GEMS,” has since dedicated her life to helping some of the very same women whose shoes she once walked in.  When I watched this video for the first time several weeks back at the third service of Clairmont Presbyterian Church, it moved me deeply- and it has stayed with me since.  Apparently one in four children is sexually abused…

“Where is God in this dark place? Is God at work here, and if so, how?,” I’ve been asking.  Join the conversation on our Facebook page, “Fellowship of Saints and Sinners.”

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Just How Open-Minded is “Progressive” Christianity?

"Christians tired of being misrepresented?" Or, "Christians tired of being misrepresented, who in turn misrepresent?"

Fellow Saints and Sinners, I am re-posting the following response to the video I just shared with you, which poses the question, “Can prayer be social justice?” When I shared the video with the Facebook community, “Christians tired of being misrepresented,” which describes itself as “progressive” and “NOT a right-wing, fundamentalist” group, and to which I belong precisely because I thought it would be an “open-minded” place in which to share questions and reflections about life and God, I received the following post from the owners of the page:

“Hi Kristina – thank you for sharing this blog post and video with us. Although heart stirring and sincere, the statements in this video saying “Our God” and “His People” do not fit well with our page. CToBM does not put a claim on God as …”Christian”. The owners of this page do choose to follow Jesus Christ and His teachings, but we do not claim to own him or restrict him from moving in other faith systems or even non-believers. This video is too exclusive for this inclusive Page and it’s members. Thank You.”

Hmm…Is there irony here? I think so.  Is it “progressive” to be close-minded about how God might be at work in a new and different way in other parts of the world such as the global South, just because our brothers and sisters’ language for describing God’s work doesn’t fit within our own “politically correct” conceptions? Is an exclusion of other varieties of religious experience that don’t reinforce our own really consistent with the notion that we don’t “own” God? I don’t think so.  By welcoming the fact that God can act in non-Christian faiths, do we have to then exclude how God might choose to act within the system of Christianity that we belong to?So…What do you think?  Is “progressive” Christianity just another veiled attempt at excluding those whose experiences of God in Jesus Christ differ from ours? Do our labels stop being helpful for the very reason that they invite us to close-mindedness about the work of the Spirit wherever She decides to manifest Herself?  All opinions, including those that passionately differ from my own, are welcome!

[By way of update, I was promptly “unfriended” by “Christians tired of being misrepresented after responding to their note.  So much for open cyber spats.]

Food for Thought: Prayer as Social Justice? World Prayer Assembly, Jakarta

20,000 children will lead the May 2012 World Prayer Assembly in prayer for the world. Wow. Which begs the question: can prayer be social justice?  After watching this video sent on by organizers of the May 2012 “World Prayer Assembly” in Jakarta, Indonesia, I am tempted to think so, albeit with some hesitations. (Incidentally, if you have an inkling to stop by and can afford the two days of air travel- I’m tempted!- you are warmly welcomed to attend.)

When I watch this video I am once again reminded that the church in the global South is not just alive and well but on fire with the Holy Spirit in a way that can teach us something about the intersection of prayer with God’s mission to reconcile all things to Himself and redeem us and our world: YouTube Preview Image

 

In Defense of Rob Bell’s “Love Wins”

A painting in the Sanctuary Notre-Dame des Fontaines, La Brigue called the "Last Judgment : the damned souls."

Apparently Rob Bell’s best-selling Love Wins and its ambivalent stance towards an “eternal” hell (as “eternal” has historically been interpreted by evangelicals at least) continue to send ripples.  Two authors, author of Crazy Love Francis Chan and senior managing editor of Christianity Today Mark Galli have now responded with their own books, both of which seem at the outset (from a reading of Stan Guthrie’s review in Books and Culture) like a sniffing out of any potentially dangerous “universalism” (the idea that all people at some point in the scheme of eternity will be saved) in both Bell’s book and the Bible.

I am grateful for this latest round in the discussion.  If truth be told, I am also intrigued by the way in which Bell and his more narrative, impressionistic engagement with the topic of heaven and hell have become such a lightening rod.  A universalist reading of Scripture- (if in fact Bell is advocating this, and I, having read Love Wins, am not sure he totally is)- is in no way new in a survey of centuries of church history.  Nor does it stand outside quite a wide spectrum of varying takes on the subject, all of which qualify as “orthodox” Christianity.

So why does Bell elicit such strong reactions, I wonder?  Take this opener to Guthrie’s review, for instance:  “Rob Bell, as you may have heard, sympathizes with those who have left the church because of their discomfort with the doctrine of eternal punishment. Alas, he seems to lack sympathy for people still in the church who believe in a God who sends unbelievers to hell.”  Or, take N.D. Wilson’s voicing of a common refrain among Bell’s critics that Bell “cannot be pinned down.” Wilson goes so far as to imply that Bell, in his peripatetic questions, is a “pensive rabbit.” (A bit uncharitable if not harsh, don’t you think?)  What follows is a rather sarcastic and summary dismissal of the questions Bell raises, with little appreciation for the grays in which Bell would invite us to inhabit when it comes to engaging Scripture on the subject of heaven and hell.

The implication here?  That if Rob Bell cannot be pinned down, Scripture can be.  But I beg to differ.  The Bible I read does not give a consistently clear, definitive answer to the question of what “hell” looks like.  Eternal torment in flames of fire.  Total annihilation.   “Gehenna,” or the rubbish heap where worthless things are thrown out.  Yes, “hell” is all these things.  But “heaven” is also a place where, we are told, “there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4).  Which, I might add, begs a question:  how are those of us who find ourselves within the “pearly gates” of eternal bliss to live pain-free when our agnostic uncle, whose lap we used to crawl up onto at family reunions, is eternally burning away in flames of fire in the next room over, or being continuously water-boarded (to borrow a more contemporary metaphor for eternal torment)?

So while maybe I needn’t be so surprised by the way in which Bell has become a bit of a punching bag, I am disappointed. Because at its heart, this debate about heaven and hell really is an argument about who God really is and whether God is who God says God is- whether God really is Love and whether we can trust that God is Love. And it seems to me that the basic statement, “God is Love,” is one that we evangelicals, regardless of our differences, might be able to get behind.

Which leads me to think that Rob Bell is right: if we believe that God is Love and that God “wins,” then we must also believe that “Love” wins.  The details of what that victory looks like exactly in the scope of eternity remain elusive- at least insofar as we are willing to admit the insufficiency of Scripture and our human limitations to answer such questions with great certainty.  When Bell as a prominent leader in the church does this very thing, it gives the rest of us permission to wrestle with God and Scripture, too. And, it should.   “Love” requires it.

So back to the opening line of Guthrie’s review: “Rob Bell, as you may have heard, sympathizes with those who have left the church because of their discomfort with the doctrine of eternal punishment. Alas, he seems to lack sympathy for people still in the church who believe in a God who sends unbelievers to hell.”

It seems to me that until we understand that the church is the one organization that does not exist for itself- that the church exists in love for the sake of God’s world- it will be easy to interpret one church leader’s daring to believe in the triumphant conquest of God’s Love as subtle “church bashing.”  In other words, an over-arching concern to engage and problematize a doctrine (eternal punishment) that is a stumbling block for many outside the church, not to mention a good many within the church, probably will come across as a belittling of the many good people in the pews who hold to that same doctrine.  But sometimes a bit of self-deprecation when it comes to the things we in the church spout is the very best way to witness to a love that really is cosmic in its vision and scope. And, if we evangelicals are serious about proclaiming God’s love in Jesus Christ in word and deed, maybe the best place to start is with the things we’re most sure about.

 

“Is he the Messiah or not?”: Jesus Epithets Continued…

"He's not the Messiah. He's a very naughty boy!" The Life of Brian

“The law, you see, was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus the Messiah.” -John 1:17

“The Messiah”- and here I resort to  consulting trusty exegetical companion N.T. Wright- literally means “anointed one,” and in theory can be either a prophet, priest or king.  In practice, the Messiah was the one in ancient Judaic tradition who would come to reign as king over Israel and rescue God’s people from their enemies.  Wright locates the persistence of the conviction that Jesus was in fact the Messiah in the belief that Jesus really was raised from the dead.  (After all, no Messiah, according to the prevailing Judaic understanding of the time, would have let himself be crucified in the first place.)

And the New Testament does present Jesus as one who fulfills all three of these roles of prophet, priest and king.  Jesus takes his place within a long line of prophets who come to God’s people warning them of God’s judgment and urging them to return to God.  But he also intercedes on behalf of not only Israel but all who call upon His name, promising to rescue them.  And, the many miraculous healings Jesus performs gesture to a kingdom that is both not of this world but has every relation to it- a kingdom in which heaven and earth find restoration and where the lame walk, the blind see and those in bondage are set free, and where we are invited to dwell, too, in the power of the Holy Spirit.

The law that God gives to Moses in the form of the Ten Commandments? This is but a skeletal, albeit very helpful outline of God’s desire for how human beings are to live in relation to God and one another; without Jesus, this law can become a sometimes sickening reminder of our separation from God and the ways that we fail to live up to God’s very best for us; but in Jesus, who as Messiah also perfectly fulfills the law- (which makes me wonder if Jesus could still have been “a naughty boy,” and I would like to think so!)- God seeks to plant in us what the law could not do, which was this restoration of relationship with the One who made us.  In Jesus, God need no longer be the officious school marm managing our every sin, and instead becomes our friend, lover, or the loving father we never had.

What does this mean for us today? I suppose the notion of Christ as Messiah can cause many of us to shudder or roll our eyes.  When spirituality these days is so often about our own kingdoms and our own preferences, who, after all, needs a king?  When a personal relationship with God often can be reduced to little more than our own direct experience of God, which is often on our own terms in the forms that we want it to be, who needs a priest?  Who needs someone who will intercede before God for us, asking God to be merciful on our behalves? And then there is this often antiquated-sounding term, “prophet,” which in some ways can distance us from Jesus.  It makes us think of strange, wilderness-loving men in hair shirts (John the Baptist) or depressives who forgot to take their Prozac (Jeremiah).  But a “prophet” is really anybody who serves as a kind of human “alarm clock,” waking us up to God’s love, sometimes jarringly, but always with our very best purposes in mind.

And if Jesus really is these three things, then Jesus is by definition the Messiah.  The “anointed one” who comes to us not on our own terms and not according to our own expectations but as a real God would: as a gracious ruler seeking to inhabit our hearts and rule our kingdoms, advocating for our very best because love itself demands this, and persistently waking us up to this love in countless ways.

 

Previous Posts

Mental Health Break—Sprawl II
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posted 12:58:15pm Dec. 18, 2014 | read full post »

I Can't Breathe and the Widow's Cry—A Guest Post
Fellow saint and sinner Saskia de Vries is a neuroscientist in Seattle, Washington and has posted before at this intersection between God and life. She, like so many of us, is grappling with the tragedies of Eric Garner and Michael Brown and the larger systemic problem they seem to reveal—namely,

posted 2:10:09pm Dec. 11, 2014 | read full post »

Advent and Emptiness, Via Louis CK and the Prophet Isaiah
I've been making my way through the book of Isaiah. This morning's reading was from chapter 6, where the prophet Isaiah receives his call to go to the people of Israel and proclaim God's judgment of a people who have wandered away from God's purposes for them. Isaiah asks how long God's people will

posted 11:45:39am Dec. 09, 2014 | read full post »

Advent Resurrection
It may seem strange to pair Advent with resurrection. Usually resurrection comes more naturally at Easter. But at heart the labor pangs of all creation giving birth to the Christ child are a longing for a new start. Advent is a longing to be born again. Neuroscience now teaches that every minu

posted 2:47:38pm Dec. 04, 2014 | read full post »

Birthday Cred—Ecclesiastes Via David Foster Wallace
Today I'm still (barely) on the left side of 40, and bea

posted 11:01:03am Dec. 01, 2014 | read full post »


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