by RobertCummins | Oct 26, 2016 | 43. Questions
How can I become a Christian?
What a crucial question! The classic evangelical answer, in my lifetime, has been, “You must ask Jesus into your heart.” Even though the phrase “ask Jesus into your heart” is not even in the Bible, many have come into the kingdom by way of this contemporary phrase because it can embody the biblical injunction to believe and to submit. Recall: Jesus is a savior and a lord. However, if someone were to ask me today, “How can I become a Christian?” I will likely refer them to John 11:25-26 and let Jesus personally convey to them, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me shall live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.” I might invite them out for coffee in a week or so and follow up with the same question Jesus asked, “Do you believe this?” If we could poll the hearts of all those who have been authentically born again, I believe we would find that all live rebirths share a miraculous common denominator—they believed in Him.
Pretty simple isn’t it? And yet, having a savior in heaven is one thing; having a Lord living in our hearts at breakfast is another. Where the Eternal Seed takes root, we begin discovering His life in a very personal tension. We discover that we have our ways and He has His, which are somewhat higher than ours. We also learn that He has this notion that it is to everyone’s benefit that we lose every argument. Welcome to the kingdom.
In two different places in this passage, we see this inevitable tension: John 11:21 and 32. Here we see an “if only” attitude being exposed in Martha and Mary, who believed Jesus was the Messiah. The sisters (as believers) had inherited eternal life, and the inherent tension that accompanies it.
“If only” – a seemingly innocuous phrase—is a thin disguise for our anything-but-innocent attitudes. At its core, “if only,” betrays dissatisfaction and disapproval. The Holy Spirit will eventually expose us. We will hear our heart’s protest—“Oh man!” or “That’s not fair!” or “What’s the deal!” Sarcasm also betrays this attitude: “Oh, that’s just perfect!” Decoded, these phrases are all asking the wrong question: “Couldn’t you have done this the way I would have if I were You?
Disciples eventually learn that Jesus is invested in every aspect of their lives and that He knows, in each of these areas, how we are to think and what we are to do. Discovering that the Spirit indwells us and has actually become our life is foundational to knowing Jesus as Lord. Walking in the Spirit, living out of His life, involves the ongoing experience of repentance—the laying down of our opinions for His truth, and our preferences for His ways. This is also called discipleship.
Tragically, in our have-it-your-way/seeker-friendly culture, discipleship has become an optional track within Christendom, an experience reserved for the super zealous or those “called into ministry.” Discipleship has been cast as a works-oriented, excessive burden to be carried by those “in ministry.” Discipleship is nothing more than learning to daily live out of God’s life within us. Being a disciple is neither exclusive nor heavy. Jesus said, “My burden is easy and my yoke is light.”
Only a few special saints are called into ministry, and discipleship is reserved for them—what a lie! No doubt a demon achieved great notoriety in Hell for crafting that whopper. Will there be notoriety in heaven for saints who overcome these demonic strongholds? Probably not. That awards banquet is going to be all about Jesus—the Truth, who ultimately expressed His life through His younger brothers and sisters. These children of the kingdom ultimately arose and overturned the lies which separated discipleship from Christianity and relationship from religion. “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me shall live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.”
In summary, salvation was never meant to be a stand-alone event—something that happened way back when. It is true, there was a “when” that we received grace to believe. In that moment, Jesus—the Life of God—invaded our stillborn spirits. This was the beginning of our salvation—a life–process of working out His life with awe and wonder. Discipleship is not a program or a course. It is a lifestyle. Regardless of how alien this post may sound, discipleship is integral to normal Christianity, and it is for all who believe.
Father, thank you that you persevere with us even as we insist on doing life on our own terms. Let our folly run its course. As light, let us overcome darkness. May our lives serve as living proof You have sent Jesus—who saved us and is saving us. Amen.
by RobertCummins | Oct 25, 2016 | 43. Questions
Do you wish to get well? (from John 5:6)
Why would Jesus ask such an obvious question? Do not all sick people wish to get well? Do not all captives wish to be free?
Not necessarily. Law enforcement dealing with abuse, hostage, and kidnap cases know that a victim can adapt to their enslavement and bond with their captor. It is called Stockholm Syndrome. Like proverbial frogs in a kettle, we can settle for environments—and ideas, which are lethal as long as they are introduced to us in manageable increments. Even after discovering we are in dangerously hot water, we may opt to stay there just because things have become familiar. Think old wineskins.
In our passage Jesus was confronting a victim of Jerusalem Syndrome, a common RTD (Religiously Transmitted Disease). To rescue the man, Jesus had to derail his familiar thinking with a question. He asks the man, “Do you wish to get well or would you prefer to remain here in all this familiarity as a disabled victim?” After the man describes his hopeless circumstances, Jesus says to him, “Arise, take up your pallet, and walk.” With a question and a command Jesus enables this man to trade in the familiar for the impossible.
The scriptures answer the questions we should be asking. Hopefully, as aliens and strangers in this earth, we are at least asking ourselves, “Where am I?” The Bible will tell us we are in a battle and that our hearts are both the battleground and the prize. If this awareness is absent from our consciousness, we are already in very hot water. We are central in this battle between God and Satan. Scripture describes our battle as a conflict between light and darkness. In our battle, the enemy has taken many captives by way of many dark philosophies and theologies. Tragically, wrong ideas can become familiar to us. We will even zealously protect them. I know this first hand.
Ironically, my own prison was constructed from legitimate truths I embraced with a damaged heart. Insecurity in God’s love led me to embrace depravity as my core identity: “What a wretch am I.” Depravity led me to embrace God’s sovereignty as fatalism. Fatalism led to passivity and hopelessness in all things except an after-life, when I would finally be free of me. When Jesus would come to me and ask, “Son. Do you wish to get well?” I would respond, “Oh, Lord, if only that were possible. My sin is ever before me. You know I would like to be free, but things, being fixed as they are, make this impossible. Oh Lord, please do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. I am just a sinner saved by grace and this fate of mine is to be expected, here in this fallen world. Oh, Lord, I’m a lost cause, but Ill be all right. I know You’re busy. Why don’t You spend your valuable time on someone who can receive You?” I’m sure His response was, “Oh, Lord.”
In my prison, I spent a great deal of time in dark introspection. My thoughts and deeds reinforced my self-image as one with a desperately sick heart, beyond understanding and beyond help. Not surprisingly, I was also struggling to receive and enjoy God’s love. I reasoned, as I sulked in my depravity, that discipline and even judgment should be my due from a holy God. I was experiencing chronic Jerusalem Syndrome. I had grown comfortable with ideas about God and myself based on half-truths, also known as lies. I was getting cooked alive.
In my story, events transpired which led me to reconsider my essential identity. Eventually, after God did an especially gracious thing in my heart, I was able to see that I was more than just a sinner saved by grace. I was a saint. On top of that, I was also a son and a friend of God’s. From this place it became easier to acknowledge and receive God’s love. That is a BIG DEAL! Since then, a great deal of shame and guilt has been edited out of my thought process. I feel as though God plucked this frog out of the pan that he might live, and do so abundantly.
It was as if Jesus had come to me and said, “Rob, do you wish to get well, or do you prefer to remain a prisoner to your precious half-truths?” This derailing question was necessary because God knew I was entrapped by toxic and familiar ideas. My theology explained my reality. That reality was the foundation of all my reasoning. Having our cosmology (why things go as they do) altered is the equivalent of a psychic earthquake. The question became, “Rob, will you trade the familiar for the impossible? Give me your incomplete identity as a sinner saved by grace and, in exchange, I will give you a fuller identity as my son and friend.” The Holy Spirit was breaking down all my syndromes and renewing the place of Jesus in my heart.
The enemy delights in any theology that discounts how we see ourselves or distorts how we see God. One of Satan’s strategies is to limit our involvement in the battle by trapping us in our insecurity with bad theology.
One day, when all the enemy’s half-truths have been exposed, I see the Church becoming an agent of healing. Through a liberated Body of Christ, who has grasped her identity and assumed her destiny, captives will be set free. That is what it will look like when God’s will is being done on earth as it is in heaven.
Father, strengthen our hearts. Help us to be bold and courageous in our faith. Lead us to that place where we anticipate, in all arenas of the battle, to see You doing good, exceedingly above and beyond our understanding and expectation. Please show us where we are constricted by half-truths, however comfortable we have become with them. May our beliefs be in sync with Yours. Nothing is impossible for You. Amen.
by RobertCummins | Oct 25, 2016 | 43. Questions
After the two heard John identify Him as the Passover Lamb, they left his company and began following Jesus. As Jesus became aware He was being tailed, He turned and asked, “What do you seek?”
These two men had already crossed a line. They were hanging out with John the Baptist—a man at odds with the religious establishment. John was preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The citizenry had concluded He was, at the very least, a great prophet and possibly even the Messiah.
What drew these two original disciples away from John? I believe it was this; they knew the Law, but they wanted to know God. The Law and its stewards, the Pharisees, guaranteed the former; their hearts were being drawn to the latter. The Law without grace was a massive burden to their hearts, reminding them they were the types of persons requiring law upon law to save. They knew about God and they knew they were sinners, but these things had not liberated their hearts. This accounts, at least in part, for their association with John—one who was announcing forgiveness. How sweet that must have sounded!
The Law and the Prophets had awakened them to the chasm existing between God and themselves. The ancient scrolls had also hinted of a bridge to come and the reunion that bridge would facilitate. Perhaps the Psalmist’s candor had also awakened a liberty within them, bold enough to ask, “Is there not more?
As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God? (Psalm 42:1-2)
In their search for more, the two found themselves in the company of others at odds with the religious status quo. Following Jesus was dangerous! Yet, something about Him made the risk worth it. What was this something? Somehow, Jesus Himself was the answer. Without them knowing it, the Master Teacher was making His primary point: one could stand clean and unburdened in God’s presence.
For these men, a plant had pushed up through the soil, presenting itself in the form of their questions. It had been germinating in the soil of religion. It had produced a sacred weariness and an attendant hunger for reality and relationship with God.
The questions our hearts ask are provoked by the Spirit of Truth. They are signs that God is drawing us. However, we must learn from the original disciples—trouble awaits question-askers. In the context of transformation (the very nature of God’s expanding kingdom) Truth predictably leads men outside the boundaries of establishment. Truth is bold and will challenge the underlying assumptions driving performance religion. It does so, because It came to set us free—to let us soar at higher altitudes than are possible with form and tradition.
For followers of Jesus, tensions within and without, are inevitable. Establishment (aka old wineskins) doesn’t respond well to questions. They quickly withdraw the right hand of fellowship from anyone disturbing what they believe God has established. Question askers will either be censored or ushered to the back door and shown the broad opportunities that await them outside. In extreme situations, they may be crucified.
If God is transforming His Bride from what she is into what she shall be, change is inevitable. Questions precede transformation and the big question remains: “What do you seek?”
I watched a Russian film called Stalker. A stalker leads men into a place where their innermost desire will be met. It reminded me that our innermost desire is also the main thing with God. This thing, whatever it is, will be revealed when we ultimately stand before him—“when nothing that was hidden will remain.” Therefore, why we do what we do is a big deal. This is why God keeps asking, “Really, children, I’m serious—What is it that you want?”
If we find that following Jesus has created tensions between the keepers of tradition and ourselves, let’s quickly give thanks to God for the excellent soil and His gardening skill. Let’s also avoid pointing fingers at the establishment for its shortcomings. Instead, let’s listen to the questions God is asking us. This way, when He asks us why we have done what we have done, our answer can simply be, “Father, You know I have done these things because I have loved You and simply could not bear the thought of our separation.”
In the School of Christ, which meets continually in our hearts, our Teacher, the Holy Spirit, is tutoring us into an experiential love affair with God. Our current relationships and circumstances are our curriculum. If we attend class, we discover that His kingdom is inverted and foreign (at least initially) to our natural minds. Example: in the kingdom, longing, disorientation, and questions are not signs of failure; instead, they indicate our good attendance record.
I am so looking forward to commencement. Aren’t you?
Father, may your Spirit succeed in the re-education of our hearts. Exposing us where we are doing right for wrong reasons. May we see the test at hand. May we give thanks for its content, and may we all graduate with flying colors. Amen.
by RobertCummins | Oct 24, 2016 | 42. Gathering
In Ezekiel 34 the Lord’s crosshairs are trained on the shepherds of Israel who have selfishly consumed resources intended for the flock at large, scattering them, causing them to forage for their survival. The shepherds Ezekiel aims at are both civil and ecclesiastical leaders. These rascals were skimming, and they were in huge divine trouble.
However, shepherds, in a kingdom of God sense, are those who have been charged with caring for the inner, eternal lives of men. True shepherds see their mission in Proverbs 4:23: “Watch over the heart with all diligence, for from it flow the issues of life.”
Having been birthed in a church split, nurtured by a para-church, and planted in a community, I have always been the square peg that did not fit neatly into the round hole of organized Christianity. (The two decades between 1992 and 2012 were the rubbing experience which proved this out.) Even today, my heart strains in its attempts to maintain connection in the body of Christ. It is not much fun to be square when one’s greatest felt needs is to fit in.
The experience causes me to think of Jerry Fletcher. He is the paranoid taxi driver in the movie Conspiracy Theory, who is convinced that everything is manipulated by “them.” “Them” happens to be a covert government program gone rogue. Courtesy of them, Jerry is crazy but not completely. Perhaps Jerry comes to mind because his Conspiracy Theory newsletter has 6 prescribers—about the same as In the Middle with Mystery. I too feel the strain of trying to remain connected and not completely crazy.
My sanity and connection-mission has taken me to the scriptures. At face value, they only compound the problem. It is not easy to reconcile the New Testament with the practices and outcomes of our current traditions. However, I have discovered that asking questions about current practices and traditions will draw fire. And, it will not be conspiratorial paranoia you experience. The crosshairs will be trained on you if you raise questions about sanctified ideas like “pastor.”
Since MwM is a subscriber-based newsletter (with a modest readership), it is safer here than in, say, an elder’s meeting, to ask, “Where in the Holy Bible did this idea come from?” The word “Pastor” is not used even once in the New Testament and the plural form is used just once. Yet, “pastor” (or Pastor, in our case) wields the bulk of religious authority within Christendom.
And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ. Ephesians 4:11-12
“Pastor” has become the undisputed head of all things Christian. These well meaning men and women do it all. They preach. They lead in prayer. Like CEO’s, they launch construction projects and programs. They collect the tithe to fund their operations. Want to know how many times the tithe is mentioned in the New Testament? Four, and each of them were references to the Old Covenant. I think I just saw a red dot on the wall.
I learned the hard way to not challenge, at least not at close range, the idea of pastor as CEO and the tithe. No, if you want to fit in, it is best to set aside the New Testament example and to continue following hybrid OT/NT theology and customs, which, through practice, have become sacred.
If our traditions were producing New Testament outcomes, perhaps questions would not be in order. Even if we recognized this as a problem, how would one correct it? The remedy would be the equivalent of handing Pastor the saw and asking him to cut off the limb on which he and his staff are perched. The truth is—I love pastors. They are typically bright and well-intentioned people. The sad thing is, as they accept the traditional yoke—which the institution has prepared for them—they must expend massive energy caring for organizations, outsourcing soul care to staff or outside professionals. The corruption can then become: “Watch over the organization with all your heart, for from it flow all the issues of life.”
Beyond administration, Pastor’s other major contribution is the sermon. Pastor is often a gifted orator, so by default, “the sermon” (also a rare NT idea) becomes the main course of most meetings. Sermons are how most pastors believe they are to feed their flock. Think how many sermons are preached each week. Multiply that by how many weeks have passed in your life—or better yet, since Christ’s life. Unless we are in a dispensation of decline, one would anticipate some kind of tipping point toward righteousness if sermons were, in themselves, our sufficient bread. Perhaps true pastors need to teach sheep how to feed themselves.
Questions about pastor, tithes, and sermons are absurd and innapropriate only if we measure ourselves by ourselves and by our traditions. I warned you we were wading into complex and controversial waters.
Here is a true and humbling confession. In raising these questions, I had an outside hope that a true shepherd, from some flock, would come and gather me in. I had dreamed they might see the biblical merit to my questions. I imagined we might provide each other some mutual cover, knowing that changing a culture is nothing short of jihad to traditionalists. This has not panned out. My face is still red with embarrassment at my naiveté.
I don’t relish my squareness, and I would prefer not being shot at it. It is simply not good for man to be alone—or to be full of holes. However, if the cost of achieving these luxuries is abandoning the New Testament or switching off my brain, I must remain here in the mystery with my fellow expatriates, asking questions, exploring the kingdom of God. I have continued to dream however about the Body of Christ in the earth. The following is a supplement for other dreamers with stamina.
Father, raise up shepherds with hearts like yours who will gather us up into safe places, redeeming the dark and gloomy days. May this world see that we are those whom you have gathered, healed, and called. Succeed wildly Lord in this hour with a transformation whereby both you and your bride will be honored in all places and at all times. Amen.
by RobertCummins | Oct 22, 2016 | 42. Gathering
Isaiah is laboring to get a point across. In our six verses he uses two metaphors. In the balance of the chapter he uses at least five more. Why the prophetic multi-metephor campaign? What is he trying so hard to get across? It is that God is supremely great? And what would he like us to know about ourselves?
All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever. (from Isaiah 40:6-8)
Get yourself up on a high mountain, O bearer of good news, lift up your voice mightily. (from Isaiah 40:9)
What would motivate us to announce good news from high places when our transience has just been likened to a withering plant? If Isaiah had not also proclaimed God’s compassion, the goodness of this so-called good news would certainly come into question.
“Comfort, O comfort My people,” says your God. “Speak kindly to Jerusalem; and call out to her, that her warfare has ended, that her iniquity has been removed.” (from Isaiah 40:1-2)
Like a shepherd He will tend His flock, in His arm He will gather the lambs And carry them in His bosom; He will gently lead the nursing ewes. (Isaiah 40:11)
In God’s compassion, He makes provision of His own strength to those who are weary and stumbling …
The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary. (Isaiah 40:28-31)
Isaiah has clearly established that, like the grass, we will wither and, like the flower, we shall fade. Even collectively we are nothing more than a drop in a bucket or a speck of dust on the scales. As this earth’s inhabitants, we are like grasshoppers. It is true that when He blows on us we are carried away like stubble. God has made His point and asks;
To whom then will you liken Me? Lift up your eyes on high and see who has created these stars, The One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power, not one of them is missing. (Isaiah 40:25-26)
Just as God can account for every star, how much more will He account for every son and daughter. It is true in one sense, that compared to God we are as nothing, and yet in another, we are the object of His compassion. When Jesus, our Shepherd, reveals the Father, it gets even better – we discover we are also the objects of His affection.
God’s greatness is not meant to crush. Within His glory and majesty, we find ourselves elevated to dizzying heights, as His beloved. This news does not cause us to cower, it cause us to look up into His kind face. That image will anchor our souls and fuel our awe and thanksgiving. Truly the sons and daughters of the kingdom shall be …
those who wait for the Lord and gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.
Father, thank you that you have not come to us in anger but as a gentle Shepherd escorting each of us to safety, in Christ. Thank You that, wrapped in Your strong arms, not one of us will be lost. Thank You that we can live our lives out of Your strength. As the One who has become our life, express your life through us. For Your name’s sake. Amen
