The essence of the Christian religion consists in the reality that the creation of the Father, ruined by sin, is restored in the death of the Son of God, and re-created by the grace of the Spirit into a kingdom of God (112).
That is one seriously loaded statement. But it lays down the sort of holistic understanding of Christianity that we so desperately need.
This is brilliant. Chris Wright talked more on this at Lausanne in 2010, which you can see here. In light of some of the events of the past week in the evangelical world, what he's saying here is really important.
This past Sunday I preached on 1 Chronicles 29:1-20, and in that passage David refers to the people of Israel as "aliens and strangers" in God's sight (v. 15). Although in that context the phrase has a different connotation than what we typically understand it to mean, this is common language in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments. The most common reference in the latter is probably found in Peter's letter (1 Pet. 2:11).
While I think this idea is certainly helpful for us to keep in mind (given that it is a biblical metaphor), there is also a danger in such a perspective leading to an eschatology shaped by escapism. Indeed, many evangelicals are quick to say that we are pilgrims in this world on our way to heaven. "We're just passing through," is the common catch-phrase of those who adhere to the sentiment.
Here's the thing, though – in one sense, we're not going anywhere. As I've said before, the history of God's redemption of his people is a pattern of God coming to us. The future of God's people is not some disembodied, ethereal existence. Our new Promised Land is "the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God" (Rev. 21:2). As Peter says, on the day of the Lord, "the earth and everything in it will be laid bare" (2 Pet. 3:10) in preparation for this Holy City.
In what sense are we aliens and strangers and pilgrims, then? One way of understanding this does tie the physical world, despite what I've just said. While this world is our home, we are aliens and strangers in it at the present time because our home has been occupied by a foreign enemy. It has become a wilderness; the presence of sin and the kingdom of darkness has obscured the inherent goodness of God's creation and made it unrecognisable. But we don't wait to escape from this wilderness. We wait instead for the Promised Land that God brings down to us after he purifies his creation from sin.
There is a spiritual element to this as well, though. We are pilgrims on a journey to a spiritual destination. Through the death and resurrection of Christ, we have new life (Rom. 6, Col. 3). By the power of the indwelling Spirit, we are given strength to put to death the old self, and to live holy and righteous lives (John 14:15-31, Rom. 8). On the day that Christ returns, we will be glorified – made like him (1 Cor. 15:51-57, Phil. 1:6).
Right now we remain in the wilderness of sin, wandering through it in the pursuit of holiness, longing and yearning for the fulness of Christ's redemption as we see sin wreak havoc in our lives and in our world. As Peter reminds us in 1 Peter 2:11, we need remember who we are so that we do not fall into sin and allow ourselves to be comfortable in this occupying kingdom. Instead, we follow the lead of our God towards that day when he fulfils his promise to forgive our wickedness and remember our sins no more (Jer. 31:34), and to wipe every tear from our eyes. "There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev. 21:4).
The Promised Land that awaits us is God's good creation restored and glorified, a place where his people will dwell in his presence forever and where they, having been glorified, will be free from sin and flourish as they live the life that he intends for his people.
That's a Promised Land to look forward to. That's a pilgrimage worth making.
In the middle of December I was on a bit of a rant tweeting about how Christians so often misunderstand work and vocation. I find myself returning to this topic more and more because I think it is so important. Browse through the gallery to see the tweets:
Then Steve Bishop posted this cartoon the other day and I thought that it did a good job illustrating the way the church often adds to the problem.
It's my hope that in 2012 churches will do a lot more to help believers think about their work from a Christian perspective.
I don't typically do personal posts here, but I thought a year-end reflection might be worthwhile, even if only for my family and friends who read this blog. Be warned, though – when I do foray into more personal, introspective posts, they tend to be quite long, so get a cup of coffee if you're thinking of reading this all the way through.
Robin and I began 2010 with a great deal of uncertainty, still waiting for visas to process for us to move to the United Kingdom. To be honest, by January, we were seriously beginning to think it wouldn't happen. We both had jobs we did not particularly enjoy, and we had a lot of uncertainty about the future. The visas did come, however. On my birthday in February, we got the news that the church here had finally been approved to sponsor us. From there, the next few steps moved on comparatively quickly, and by May, we had the visas in hand.
Our remaining time in Florida was really a time of blessing, though. Relationships with our church family at River Oaks Church deepened, and I continued to have many opportunites to partake in the church's ministry. As we were leaving and saying goodbye to all the wonderful people there, we found that words could not express how blessed we were to have spent our four years in Florida sharing our lives with them.
We did a quite a bit of travelling last year. In early May we took a road trip across the southern United States and into Texas, going as far as San Antonio, and in June, we took another road trip on our way out of the United States, first heading west to visit some friends in Mississippi, and then north to visit Robin's family in Michigan and mine in Ontario, before flying from Toronto to Gatwick, and driving from Gatwick to Hull. Since arriving in England, we've been able to visit some of the sights here, including York and London.
Packing up all our stuff in Florida was an adventure in itself. Our move to Florida when we got married was a big move, but we didn't have a lot of stuff at the time. Moving to another continent, though, accessible only by air or sea, was going to be interesting. We had to sort through all kinds of stuff, and we managed to get rid of a lot. We ended up getting a 20-ft. shipping container to move our belongings to England. During our three weeks between leaving Florida and arriving in England, I enjoyed tracking the container and learning about the shipping container business. In the end, the process couldn't have gone smoother; everything arrived right on schedule and nothing was damaged.
The biggest event of the year was, of course, the actual move to England. This photo summarises our life for about three weeks in the middle of last year – going from place to place living out of suitcases. It was taken at Gatwick Airport in the carpark where we picked up the car we hired to drive to Hull. Robin says she gets dizzy looking at this photo because by that point, we were exhausted from travelling, and both nervous and excited because we were about to make the final journey to our new home.
We weren't really sure what it was going to be like living in a new country and a new culture, but our initial experience was very good. The church family at St John's was so warm and welcoming, and they were eager to make us feel at home quickly. And they succeeded – this is the fourth time I've moved in my life, and this has by far been the easiest transition. After being here about three months, I was beginning to get tired of people asking me, "How are you settling in?" because I felt that the process was over and that we had settled.
People often ask us to point out the differences between North America and England, but I always find this question hard to answer. There are little differences – terminology, the way houses are constructed, different cars, some unique foods – but I'm hard-pressed to make any sweeping observations about how these two places differ. I'm well aware that we are in a different culture, but it's not so radically different that I can be specific about it. People here are like everywhere else, in one sense – concerned about providing for themselves and their families, desiring relationships with others, spending their time watching television or going shopping or taking a walk. Maybe it will take time before I'm able to make more observations about the differences.
We moved to England so I could take up a position as an assistant minister at the church. My official title is "Assistant Minister – Community Action," meaning that half my role is sharing in the preaching and other pastoral responsibilities, and the other half is developing and coordinating the church's community outreach work. The first part of the role has gone well. The 'pastoral' side of the role is new to me, and while I'm still getting used to people unloading on me – seemingly without inhibition – I'm learning quickly. I have more experience preaching, although not a great deal, but I continue to be challenged by it and enjoy it, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to do it far more regularly now.
The community action side of the role is new, though, both to me and to the church. When I got offered the position, I was told it would be up to me to give shape to it. Starting almost from scratch, as it were, the first few months were a difficult. I spent a lot of time trying to get to know this city and thinking about how we wanted to approach this work. Within a few months, though, I felt much more confident about the role, having seen some things unfold and fall into place. I now understand myself to be doing three things – articulating a biblical and theological basis for our community work, developing and coordinating community projects, and equipping people in our church to participate in these projects and to live as Christians in their communities. I am excited to see how this will play out further in this new year.
For now, though, thinking back over the past year and looking forward, I'm reminded again of how blessed we are. While the year began with uncertainty, we now look back and clearly see God's hand guiding us. Yet at the same time, I'm aware that the uncertainty we experienced is nothing compared to what others around the world have faced, especially those who have suffered greatly in this past year from famine, war, natural disasters, and whatever other terrible things sin has wrought on creation. I mourn with them, and earnestly pray that 2012 will be a more peaceful year.
But Christ is still enthroned as King over heaven and earth, and as we move into another year it's again my hope and prayer that he will return to conquer sin and death and fulfil all his promises to his people.
Until then, let us continue to faithfully bear witness to the Kingdom of God, offering to the world the hope, joy, and peace that are only found in Jesus Christ.
May God richly bless all of you in 2012.
(NB: We're beginning the year with a short holiday. There is one post set to publish on the 4th, but aside from that, posting will not resume regularly until the 10th of January.)
Orthodox men love church, says Frederica Matthewes-Green. A couple of weeks ago, I stumbled across an article she had written after dialoguing with one hundred Orthodox men who had converted to Orthodoxy as adults to find out what drew them in.
It's no secret that in most Protestant churches, females make up a larger portion of the congregation, often significantly. This was one of the reasons Matthewes-Green decided to find out why Orthodoxy bucks that trend. What she discovered was very interesting. Look at some of the responses below. It is especially noteworthy, I think, that many of the men commented on the challenge of Orthodoxy:
"It's the only church where you are required to adapt to it, rather than it adapting to you."
"Orthodoxy is serious. It is difficult. It is demanding. It is about mercy, but it's also about overcoming oneself. I am challenged in a deep way, not to 'feel good about myself' but to become holy. It is rigorous, and in that rigour I find liberation."
"Guys either want to be challenged to fight for a glorious and honourable cause, and get filthy dirty in the process, or to loaf in our recliners with plenty of beer, pizza, and football. But most churches want us to behave like orderly gentlemen, keeping our hands and mouths nice and clean."
"Christ in Orthodoxy is a militant, Jesus takes Hell captive. Orthodox Jesus came to cast fire on the earth. In Holy Baptism we pray for the newly-enlisted warriors of Christ, male and female, that they may ‘be kept ever warriors invincible.'"
"...‘the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay’ has almost nothing to do with the Eternal Logos entering inexorably, silently yet heroically, into the fabric of created reality."
"Men get pretty cynical when they sense someone's attempting to manipulate their emotions, especially when it's in the name of religion. They appreciate the objectivity of Orthodox worship. It's not aimed at prompting religious feelings but at performing an objective duty."
A lot of the things these men say they like in Orthodoxy could be true of Protestantism as well. The problem, though, is that many churches have changed and have adapted too much to modern culture. But a Protestant church that is true to its heritage and tradition does require you to adapt to it. I mentioned the Book of Common Prayer the other day; worshipping in a church which uses the BCP presents a challenge that you need to adapt to. Protestant faith is serious and difficult and demanding; Jesus said that if anyone was to follow him they needed to first lay down their life (Matt. 16:24-25). We are called to be holy too, and learning to submit to Christ's Lordship over all of your life is a difficult process. Early Protestants saw Jesus as a strong and powerful King; the tender, soft Swedish Jesus is a modern invention. Protestant worship isn't about feelings and emotions and it does require participation.
But it's not difficult to see that in many churches this is not the case anymore. So, maybe we need to change something. Maybe it's not about coming up with new ways to challenge men, but returning to more classical forms of faith and worship. Maybe instead of dumbing everything down, we make men wrestle again with words and phrases that take some work to understand. Maybe instead of making worship as comfortable as we can, we make them kneel once in a while or stand for prolonged periods of time. Maybe we get them thinking hard about being disciples of Christ, as workers, as husbands and fathers, as citizens, as sports fans. Maybe we don't allow them to be passive and train them to teach or to lead in prayer or to mentor young men.
Christianity should be hard work. It should be challenging. It requires us, after all, to surrender everything to Christ. If men are not learning that in our churches, then something is wrong.
The Prayer Book is a treasury of words and phrases that are still for countless English-speaking people the nearest you can come to an adequate language for the mysteries of faith. It gives us words that say where and who we are before God: 'we have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep', 'we are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table', but also, 'we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, which is the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs through hope of the everlasting kingdom'. It gives us words for God that hold on to the paradoxes we can't avoid: 'God... who art always more ready to hear than we to pray,' 'who declarest thy almighty power most chiefly in showing mercy and pity, 'whose property is always to have mercy.' A treasury of words for God – but also a source of vision for an entire society: 'Give us grace seriously to lay heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions'; 'If ye shall perceive your offences to be such as are not only against God but also against your neighbours; then ye shall reconcile yourselves unto them; being ready to make restitution'.
The world has changed, the very rhythms of our speech have changed, our society is irreversibly more plural, and we have – with varying degrees of reluctance – found other and usually less resonant ways of talking to God and identifying who we are in his presence. If we used only the Prayer Book these days we'd risk confusing the strangeness of the mysteries of faith with the strangeness of antique and lovely language. But we're much the poorer for forgetting it and pushing it to the margins as much as we often do in the Church.
This is one of the reasons I love the Prayer Book. The language may be difficult and dated, but for myself, at least, it has a way of putting into words things I sometimes have trouble expressing. There is a challenge – a good challenge – in wrestling with the phrases and thoughts, one that will draw you deeper in the mysteries of faith and the wonders of God.
We do ourselves a great disservice when we cast off as irrelevant those things which require some work to understand. In the case of the Prayer Book, we miss out on some of the richest prayers and words of worship, and some of the most profound ways of expressing the timeless truths of the Christian faith.
With this being our first Christmas in Britain, we had the opportunity to take part in the Christmas tradition of gathering around the television at 3pm to watch the Queen's Christmas address. What everyone is talking about after this year's address – and what the media is avoiding talking about – is the last part of her speech, where she spoke of the forgiveness of sins that comes through Jesus Christ and her prayer that all would make room in their heart for him.
The various reactions triggered by this are interesting. As I mentioned above, I saw several news reports this morning reviewing the speech, none of which mentioned the last part. But on Twitter and Facebook, I've seen many Christians overflowing with excitement that their Queen would point so clearly to Christ as the hope of the world. While the message itself excites them, of course, the excitement is probably more a result of such a prominent public figure so openly talking about Jesus.
What makes the Queen's speech interesting as well is how it contrasts with a recent speech by Prime Minister David Cameron on the place of Christianity in Britain – she insisting that salvation is found through faith in Jesus, he merely pointing to the role Christianity's values and morals play in shaping British society and his own rather minimal commitment to it.
When I lead the 8:00am service at our church, I sometimes get to pray these words from the Book of Common Prayer:
Almighty and everlasting God...we humbly beseech thee so to dispose and govern the heart of Elizabeth thy servant, our Queen and Governour, that, in all her thoughts, words, and works, she may ever seek thy honour and glory, and study to preserve thy people committed to her charge, in wealth, peace, and godliness.
Having heard her speech, I am glad to know a little more about the faith of the Queen we pray for each week. And we will keep offering these prayers for her, trusting that God will continue to guide and sustain her.
