Child-like Faith

Mark 10:13-15  13 People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them.  14 When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  15 I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

Tonight, Michael's tummy didn't feel good.  I think he might have a cold or the same bug I had last week: tiredness, congestion, and a little uneasy stomach.  As I rocked with him in the rocking chair, him laying across my lap, we said our bedtime prayers.  This time, I asked Michael if it was all right if I prayed for God to help his tummy feel better.  Michael nodded.  After I finished the prayer and said "amen," Michael said, "but my tummy still doesn't feel good."  He truly believed that Jesus was going to heal his tummy immediately.  Didn't you? you might ask. 

Well, yes . . . sort of.  Michael's theology is a little uninformed, but yet his faith is profound.  Jesus is our healer; however, he doesn't always heal everything every time we ask, no matter what.  That would make Jesus some sort of robot or vending machine, where every time we pull the lever or insert the "money" (read: prayer), Jesus automatically must do what we say.  I believe that Jesus will heal every disease, injury, deformity, wrinkle, etc.  The question is not, "will he?" but "when will he?"  Our answer is found in 1 Corinthians 15:

1 Corinthians 15:42-58  42 So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable;  43 it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power;  44 it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.  45 So it is written: "The first man Adam became a living being"; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit.  46 The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual.  47 The first man was of the dust of the earth, the second man from heaven.  48 As was the earthly man, so are those who are of the earth; and as is the man from heaven, so also are those who are of heaven.  49 And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, so shall we bear the likeness of the man from heaven.  50 I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable.  51 Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed--  52 in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.  53 For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality.  54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."  55 "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"  56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  57 But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.  58 Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you.

Explain that to a three-year-old.  My answer to Michael's statement was, "well, buddy, sometimes it just takes time to heal."  God made our bodies to repair and maintain themselves pretty well most of the time.  So, indirectly, God does heal even trivial sickness, because He made us and our bodies in such a way that they heal themselves.

But I digress....  What I love about Michael's complaint was his belief that Jesus would heal him immediately.  Oh how I wish I had that kind of childlike, uncomplicated faith for every situation.

As I write this, I can hear Michael starting to cry in his bed.  I guess it's time for him to teach me some more. . . .

At Last

Tonight I perused older entries in my blog, and one recurring theme was my lack of satisfaction with regard to my employment.  Here's a recap of the jobs I've had since 2005: FedEx Ground (working in a warehouse), and Target Distribution Center (working in a warehouse).  Part of the angst came from the disparity between my education (both a bachelor's degree and a master's degree in theology) and my employment.  Part of it came from a lack of clarity in God's leading in my life: should I pursue a PhD? move? enter ministry?  send resumes to Bible colleges? 

As it turns out, the only one of those questions I didn't answer "yes" to was the PhD.  After three years of sending out resumes to churches and getting very few replies, I am finally able to say that I am in the ministry!  Martelle Christian Church in Martelle, IA, is where I will be the Senior Minister starting this weekend.  Well, sort of.  I will start preaching there this Sunday, but will not be full-time until we move.  We won't move until the parsonage is ready and we have given (and fulfilled) our two weeks' notice to our employers.

I find the story of how we landed in Martelle fascinating.  My good friend (and ministry mentor) Tim Platt one day casually told me that the church in Martelle is in need of a Senior Minister.  They already have a great Youth Minister, but have been without a Senior Minister for the better part of six months (this was last fall).  I followed up with the contact he gave me, intending only to preach there a few times to help fill in.  After a couple of visits, however, I felt a peace about being there, a sense of at-homeness that was subtle, but noticeable.  A couple of members of the search team asked if I would give my resume, and the next time down, I did. 

I should pause here and mention that the number one problem I had with getting into a ministry was lack of full-time, stateside experience.  I had lots of missions experience, and some part-time ministries while in college, but all of it added up paled in comparison to the experience of many people who sent resumes to Martelle and wherever else I sent mine.  More than once I was not even considered (or if I was, I never made it past the "first round" of the hiring process) because of my "lack" of experience.  My expectations of hearing back from anyone were low.

In early December 2011, I received a call from a guy named Paul from MCC, wanting to set up a phone interview, which took place the following Monday.  The week after that, Paul called me back to let me know that they wanted me and my family to come down for a weekend because I was their top candidate!  So we went down January 14-15, and the weekend went extremely well.  Both Heidi and I felt that the opportunities there were amazing and God gave us both a peace about being there, which in itself was a huge answer to prayer.   One week later, I found out that all votes were affirmative and we were on our way.

Through this process God has worked on our family to prepare us for this transition.  Why did I spend so much time not in ministry?  I don't know yet, but I know it has served to teach me patience and trust in God.  Five years ago, I never would have considered sending a resume to a church in a town of 245 people in a place I had never heard of, but going there and meeting people and seeing what is happening there changed all that. 

MCC is full of vibrant, kind people who love Jesus dearly, and I can't wait to get started joining them in their ministry to Martelle and surrounding areas.  I already like them: I have more blog readers from MCC than from anywhere else! :)  Beyond that, though, I have seen kindness and sincerity in them that I can immensely appreciate.

Let it begin soon.  Thank you, Jesus.

The Gimmicking of Christianity

Why is it that we always seem to need a "thing," a shtick of some sort to keep us talking about the Christian faith?  Here are a few recent gimmicks Christians have used to talk about their faith: Tim Tebow (and especially the superstition around his performance against Pittsburgh in the playoffs), the spoken word poem "Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus" (see it here), Rick Warren's The Purpose-Driven Life (a few years ago), fish car magnets, and many others.

Many of these things are good and helpful, but what bothers me is when these things become the Christian faith of many people.  Jesus has been replaced by the latest Jesus-related fad, and Bell, Warren, Osteen, and Chan have become "the author[s] and perfecter[s] of our faith." 

It's not just an average Joe problem, either.  I saw this in seminary all the time.  Love of the Bible was set aside for love of books about the Bible.  When asked, "who are you reading these days?", I wish my answer would have been, "God" rather than Alvin Plantinga or some Continental theologian.  I love my seminary education, but it took me about 18 months to "thaw out" spiritually from the whole experience.  My professors are not at fault in this; I chose not to stay plugged into my church enough, I chose not to pursue a ministry while in seminary, I chose to let my devotional life slide. 

My seminary classmates, I imagine, understand.  Some of them might scoff, thinking that I just couldn't handle it or something, or perhaps that I chose to take the easy road of not pursuing a PhD and leaning more on practical ministry than systematic theology and philosophy of religion to help the church.  There's probably truth to all of those ideas.  But for me it just boils down to Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

We are not called to study about him, as if he were just another quirky historical figure.  We are called to know Christ, to learn Christ, to remain in Christ.  Many people can destroy me in a debate about biblical scholarship, textual criticism, harmonizing the gospels, reformed theology vs. open theism, and lots of other fascinating discussions.  I don't really care.  What I want to know is this: are you fixing your eyes on Jesus?

Jesus Christ, not anyone or anything else, is the goal and substance of our faith, and if we get anything right in this life, let it be this: that we lived and died devoted to Jesus and His word, because nothing else really matters.

Not Tim Tebow and his magical 316 coincidences.

Not spoken word poems that are biblically and theologically off-base.

Just Jesus.  Philippians 3:8-11

Before They Shut Me Down

I thought I should post a blog before blogger thinks I've abandoned my blog and deletes it!  I always think I'm going to blog more than I actually do, and I constantly think of topics I'd like to blog about.  Here's a few things on my mind lately:

• We had a baby!  Lydia was born November 7th.  She is beautiful!  Heidi's labor was 1 hour and 55 minutes from water breaking until Lydia was out.  It's a good thing we live across the street from the hospital.  Heidi is an amazing woman; I don't know how women can do it.  Michael is doing very well as a big brother.  He is sweet and very gentle with her, and he often says, "I like Tiny Baby Sister" (her alternate name apparently).

• After running the marathon in May, I have run about 5 times, which is not good.  I've pretty much undone all the weight loss I achieved for the marathon.  But hey, if I did it once, I can do it again, right?
• I have been searching for a church in which to serve for over a year now, and I'm closer than ever to some real news.  Stay tuned.

That's all for now.

It Ain't Always Chariots of Fire

Last Sunday did not end as I had planned. The marathon was supposed to end with me crossing the finish line in about 4 hours, 50 minutes, triumphant and feeling pretty good for just running a marathon. I mean, it couldn't be any worse than last time, right?

Let's start before the start. Keep in mind, I've been training in Iowa, where my warmest run was about 55 degrees and windy. At the start it was about 60 and raining, and when the rain stopped it remained quite humid. Mentally, I was ready. Physically, I thought I was ready. It didn't take long to learn otherwise.

About 5 miles in, I could tell my legs were more tired than they should be, but I pressed on, thinking they were just settling into a groove. I actually kept my 5 hour pace for the first half of the race, but my quadriceps on both legs began to cramp at mile 11. Two years ago, they waited until mile 15. I adjusted my running to include more frequent and longer walk breaks, determined to, at the least, beat my time from 2009. Sometimes the cramp would seize up and even stretching wouldn't undo it.

About mile 17, I really started feeling bad. I knew I was dehydrated, even though I drank Gatorade (and sometimes water, too) at every fluid station and I wore a Camelbak with 60 oz of water in it to drink between stations. I had a mild headache, I was very thirsty, but I felt full and didn't want to keep eating my gel blocks, even though I knew I needed them. Every time I stopped to walk, my quads would tighten up for a while and if I stopped to stretch my legs or lower back, I felt like I needed to sit down. But I refused to give up and I kept going.

At some point, I couldn't run more than 30 seconds before the cramps would come back, then I would walk for about 90 seconds and try again. This took me through miles 18-26. The final .1 I ran continuously on adrenaline alone, wanting to throw up, cry, and lay down as soon as I finished. But I stayed upright until I made it through the recovery area, chip removal, and food tables. Then I sat down on a concrete bench to wait for Heidi to meet me.

I knew immediately I was in trouble. My hearing started to disappear, my vision began to tunnelize, and I felt my head getting light. Heidi was still approaching as I told the people next to me, "I think I'm gonna pass out." Then it went black and I felt asleep, but woke up about thirty seconds later to a medical crew laying me down on the bench and getting my hyperventilating under control. Heidi said when I passed out, my arms went stiff and straight, my eyes rolled, and I groaned. That's why they think I may have had a very minor seizure. They loaded me onto a golf cart-type thingy and rushed me to the medical tent, where I almost passed out again and my blood pressure was 80/55. After laying on a cot and getting an IV and a bunch of tests, they advised me to go to the hospital, where we spent the next 4.5 hours getting fluids and rest.

What I learned:

- Listen to your body. Mine said stop. I didn't. My body had the last word.

- I am not made for marathons. Half marathons, yes. Full, no.

- It's a good idea to tell someone if you're gonna pass out.

- Hill training is essential. The hills here chewed up my legs, and we just don't have hills like that in Waterloo.

- Always take your ID and insurance card with you when running. I'm glad I did.

Okay, time to sleep.

In the medical tent getting ready to go to the hospital. I got the medal, though.

On the Eve of my Second (and Probably Final) Marathon

Tomorrow I run Cincinnati's Flying Pig Marathon for the second time. I am a little more anxious/nervous than last time, probably because last time I had no idea of the destruction that awaited me. Perhaps a little recap would help:

May 2009: I ran the marathon at 235 lbs., on two hours of sleep, with a cold, and a day after helping a friend move into a second-story apartment. This added up to both legs cramping at mile 15 and me ending up walking half of the rest of the race. I finished, but not well: 47 minutes later than my goal, exhausted and in pain.

May 1, 2011: I will run the marathon at 204 lbs., on more than two hours of sleep (I'm hoping for at least 6), no cold (but a little sinus congestion), and not helping anyone move. I'm watered up, carbed up, and trying to remain calm.

I feel a connection to this race, and I'm leaning into my training and familiarity to take me through to the end better than last time. I'm wearing the shoelaces from the shoes in which I ran last time, and I'm also wearing the same two shirts I wore for my first (and still fastest) half marathon. As an additional reminder, I'm wearing a pace chart on my left wrist, underneath which is my mile times from 2009, so I'll know if I'm doing better mile by mile.

For me, this is a huge challenge, and I feel like I'm going into a title fight or something. I'm ready. Let's do this.

Rob Bell, Emotion-Driven Theology, and Why It's Nothing New

If you're a Rob Bell fan (and frankly, what Christian aged 18-35 isn't?), then you are familiar with his Nooma videos and possibly some of his many can't-make-a-normal-looking-book books. You know that in the videos he teaches something using stories, walking down alleys, and a slightly trembling, urgent-sounding voice.

Here is the video and below it is the text of what he has to say after telling a story about a work of art which features Ghandi.

LOVE WINS. from Rob Bell on Vimeo.

Will only a few select people make it to heaven? And will billions and billions of people burn forever in hell? And if that’s the case, how do you become one of the few? Is it what you believe or what you say or what you do or who you know or something that happens in your heart? Or do you need to be initiated or take a class or converted or being born again? How does one become one of these few?

Then there is the question behind the questions. The real question [is], “What is God like?”, because millions and millions of people were taught that the primary message, the center of the gospel of Jesus, is that God is going to send you to hell unless you believe in Jesus. And so what gets subtly sort of caught and taught is that Jesus rescues you from God. But would kind of God is that, that we would need to be rescued from this God? How could that God ever be good? How could that God ever be trusted? And how could that ever be good news?

This is why lots of people want nothing to do with the Christian faith. They see it as an endless list of absurdities and inconsistencies and they say, why would I ever want to be a part of that? See what we believe about heaven and hell is incredibly important because it exposes what we believe about who God is and what God is like. What you discover in the Bible is so surprising, unexpected, beautiful, that whatever we have been told and been taught, the good news is actually better than that, better than we could ever imagine.

The good news is that love wins.

If you're a theology nerd, then you know that this has many Calvinists all huffy and lathered up, claiming that Bell is probably a universalist, and, therefore, unorthodox at best and heretical at worst. He could be an annihilationist, which still leaves an empty hell but upholds that some will eternally be separated from God. I don't think he's gonna be simply an soteriological optimist (a la Clark Pinnock and his A Wideness in God's Mercy, which teaches near universalism through the death of Christ). I think he will be a full-blown universalist, albeit a Christian one (all are saved through Christ) and not a normative religious pluralist (all are saved through their own religion, no matter how unbiblical it may be).

Either way, it's nothing new. Yes, that's right: in this instance, Rob Bell is not original. I'm sure he'll say things in the book that his fans will consider real zingers, and no doubt there will be an emotional appeal to his arguments. But the underlying arguments will not be original. Clark Pinnock argued for a generous, optimistic soteriology before Rob Bell was even born, and liberal theologians have been denying the reality of hell for over a century.

Additionally, though Bell and others who deny the orthodox, historical teaching on hell undoubtedly feel that their understanding is the true biblical one, the reality is that to arrive at such a conclusion requires some impressive hermeneutical sleight-of-hand (in the form of redefining the word for "eternity" and "eternal," reading annihilationism into the text, and using the varied biblical images for hell to conclude that they cannot all be true literally [fire and "blackest darkness" cannot both be literally true at the same time]) and an emphasis on emotional, philosophical questions (such as those Bell asks above) over a better question like, "what does the Bible actually teach on this subject?"

I may actually buy this book for its argumentative value. I know some friends of mine are going to wave this around triumphantly as they eulogize hell once and for all. But I say, not so fast and not so original.