Faith In A Sea Of Unbelief - Martin Luther

BY MARTIN LUTHER

And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” –Matthew 8:23-27

This narrative, gives us an example of faith and unbelief, in order that we may learn how mighty the power of faith is, and that it of necessity has to do with great and terrible things and that it accomplishes nothing but wonders; and that on the other hand unbelief is so fainthearted, shamefaced and trembling with fear that it can do nothing whatever. An illustration of this we see in this experience of the disciples, which shows the real state of their hearts. First, as they in company with Christ entered the ship, all was calm and they experienced nothing unusual, and had any one asked them them if they believed, they would have answered, Yes. But they were not conscious of how their hearts trusted in the calm sea and the signs for fair weather, and that thus their faith was founded upon what their natural eyes saw. But when the tempest comes and the waves fill the boat, their faith vanishes; because the calm and peace in which they trusted took wings and flew away, therefore they fly with the calm and peace, and nothing is left but unbelief.

I'm Done Trying To Follow Jesus

BY DANIEL EMERY PRICE

Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, where are you going?” Jesus answered him, “Where I am going you cannot follow me now, but you will follow afterward.” Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.” (John 13:36-38)

One of the most famous things Jesus ever said was “Follow me.” He said it over and over. So much that it was recorded more than twenty times in the New Testament. Jesus says it first to Peter (Matthew 4:19). Perhaps this is why Peter is so confused when he hears Jesus saying he cannot follow Him where He is going. No one can.

Some people think Jesus is talking about ascending to the Father in this text, but that misses the context. Jesus is on His way to the cross. Satan has already entered Judas and he is on his way to betray Jesus as these words are spoken. Eventually He will transition to talk about going “to prepare a place for you” but the context here is His betrayal and crucifixion, not the ascension.

When Peter says he will “lay down his life for Jesus” he thinks he is willing to die to save Him. Could anything be more backwards? Sadly our thinking is often just as twisted. Like Peter we make all kinds of bold promises to God. We talk about living for Jesus and even dying for Jesus. We talk about “working on our relationship with God” (if I never hear that phrase again I will die happy). All of these things are simply vain attempts to follow Jesus where He says we cannot go.

Immanuel: God With Us

BY JESSICA THOMPSON

“’and they shall call his name Immanuel’ (which means God with us)”

Is there no sweeter sound than Immanuel? Christ’s name, God with us. Those three words heal an ocean of hurts, give courage to the weakest heart, and lifts the head of the weariest pilgrim. In those three words all of our hope rests.

GOD

“For by him all things were created. He is the beginning. For in him all the fullness of God was please to dwell. He is preeminent.”

The Creator became part of creation. The Creation creates Himself a human hand in order to join hands with His creation. Life comes to die. Love comes to be hated. Jesus, the Christ child, the God man, sustained all of creation while he was being born. He was God, yet he stooped down to us. He came to us. He lived a life of restrained power. Only using his deity to help and to heal. The crippled walk again, the blind able to see, dead people alive, disease and sickness healed. And if all this wasn’t enough He “saved people from their sin.” His most awe inspiring display of power was when he was stripped, mocked, beaten, humiliated, and finally murdered. There on that cross he did accomplish the unimaginable; Forgiveness of sins. Then he followed that by being raised for our justification. Perfectly forgiven, perfectly holy, that is now our record.

WITH

This God, the sustainer of all, the first and the last, He is with us. The holidays can be a lonely time for so many of us. In the midst of the laughter and the celebrations we can feel isolated. We look around and it seems like every other person has everything we want, friends, family, happiness. Or maybe you have lost a loved one, and this time of the year increases the ache to see them again and that ache makes you feel empty. Or maybe you look at your life and think what am I doing here? Why is my family a mess, why don’t I have any friends? The temptations to despair are abounding. We see friends giving other friends presents, we hear about the best party ever, we see pictures on social media and the empty ache creeps in and invades your soul. To you, to those of you feeling the longing for something better, something more, Jesus speaks his name to you “God WITH us”.............................

The Scandal Of The Incarnation

BY MATT JOHNSON

Imagine a dirty, dank, stinky barn full of animal manure. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath in through your nose.

This was the environment that the Son of glory was born into. This is the reality of the Nativity.

During Christmas, I prefer the smell of cookies baking, the fresh pine smell of a Christmas tree, and candy canes to the smell of manure any day. But if we want a true depiction of the Christmas story, we ought to consider the scandal of the coming of Jesus.

THE OPPOSITE OF ‘GOING BIG’

Hypothetically speaking, if you were the Son of God, how would you choose to enter the world? For one, I think I’d rather come down to the world a fully grown man, roll up in a gold-plated SUV, and skip the gore of an actual birth altogether.

The Reminder For Christians in the Hannukah Story

I am a disciple of Jesus, slowly but surely nearing the completion of my ordination process in the Presbyterian Church, and I’m also a Jew. My mother grew up in a Jewish household, on both her mother and father’s side, but due to a dispute between her father and the local rabbi when she was still very young, her household was not directly tied into a local synagogue for support and community. Although her Jewish household held onto the practices it was most familiar with and tried to pass those on, my mother’s Judaism did not become her primary identity marker.

When it came time to talk to my father about a “moral upbringing” for us kids (I have a sister) my mother was content to let my father bring us along with him to church.

Despite our focused Christian upbringing, without my mom’s participation, I can still recall at least a few years of celebrating Hanukkah with my grandfather at our house (compromise makes marriages go, right?). I remember turning the lights down, or out, so only the light from the candles of the menorah filled our living room. I remember spinning the dreidel and playing with my sister. I remember the food: latkes, noodle kugel and borscht. I remember receiving the gifts, a little something every night, for eight nights..........................

LOSS AND THE CHRISTIAN VIRTUE OF HOPE

We Had Hoped

On Resurrection Sunday, two of Jesus's disciples set out for the town of Emmaus. They leave behind a place of deep sorrow and perplexity and journey toward something familiar, a place as yet untouched by their great loss. As they walk, they talk together about the events of the previous week. A stranger comes close, walks with them, and enters into their conversation. He asks them what they are discussing. One of the disciples speaks; he tells the stranger about Jesus's arrest, trial, and crucifixion. And he says, "We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel." All of the hopes they had pinned on Christ died with him. The astonishing news that the tomb is empty can't budge them; their hopes remain buried. They speak in the past tense; theirs is an entrenched hopelessness. The stranger who will later reveal himself as Jesus walks with them; he offers a patient corrective to the hopelessness he hears in their words. As he teaches them, a better hope takes root in their hearts. They urge the stranger to stay with them and, later that evening, Jesus takes bread, blesses and breaks it, and gives it to them to eat. In that instant, their eyes are opened. They say to each other, "Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked?"

This narrative maps a common movement in human life. It is the movement from sorrow to hopelessness. But it traces another movement as well—the movement of a God who refuses to abandon those who are hopeless. It is this movement that I have discovered in my own life, within my own experience of sorrow. In 2011, my family and I were expecting our second child, Samuel. Around twenty weeks into the pregnancy, he was diagnosed with a relatively rare chromosomal abnormality known as Trisomy 18. We were told that it was a lethal abnormality. Approximately 70 percent of children diagnosed with Trisomy 18 die before birth. Of those who make it to birth, between 90 and 95 percent will die before their first birthday. And most of these children measure their lives in hours or days. So, for the final sixteen weeks of pregnancy, our family prepared simultaneously for a birth and a death. We were fortunate: Samuel was born late in the night on January 1, 2012, and we held him for the entirety of his nearly five-hour life. He was fragile; and he was beautiful. In the cramped space of a neonatal intensive care unit, he was baptized and anointed with oil, sealed as Christ's own forever. Together we commended his life to Christ. The entirety of his life was marked by something far greater than his limitations: it was marked by love.

When we received Sam's diagnosis, we stood still, looking sad. And when Sam died, the heavy weight of sadness stilled us again. And in the long paths of grief that have followed, our sorrow has often stopped forward movement. I have heard myself say the words the disciples said to Jesus on the way to Emmaus. I know what it is like to say, "We had hoped." My family had hoped for another child. And, in an instant, those hopes were defeated. And the ongoing experience of grief is the daily resignation of thousands of additional hopes. When I see the hopes we had for our son realized vicariously in the lives of others' children, I find myself saying those sad (and sometimes bitter) words: "We had hoped.".............................

Why Do So Many People Who Talk About Jesus Not Actually Read the Bible?

My wife, Kasi, and I have five children. Our oldest two are both girls, 11 and 6, and they both love to play with Play-Doh. They have all the colors and all the tools necessary to mold, shape and build anything their vivid imaginations can come up with. OK, now for a moment of confession. I love to play with them and create as well. It reminds me of my childhood, but my daughters often will put me in time-out when I mix the colors to create new ones. It’s what I always did as a kid, but they can’t stand it. “Daddy, you’re ruining it!”

The reason we all liked Play-Doh as children is because we believed we could create anything we wanted. We’d mold, shape and bend. Plus, if we didn’t like how it was turning out we could pick everything up, roll it in a ball and start over.

I believe this is the same reason why so many people love to talk about Jesus, but don’t actually read the Bible. In fact, we’ve all heard people say such things as, “I love Jesus, but I don’t like the Bible.” “I have a deep respect for Jesus, but I don’t agree with the Bible.”

Is it possible that we are worshipping a Play-Doh Jesus? Meaning, the main reason we don’t have an issue with Jesus is because it’s a Jesus that we’ve created by our own imagination? We’ll shape, mold and bend Him to be what we want Him to be. Then the very moment that particular Play-Doh Jesus no longer appeases us, we just roll Him up and start over; we create a different Jesus more to our liking. When we do this we are not worshipping the Jesus of the Bible, but rather, a “Jesus” that we’ve created in our own minds..........

How Community Gives Us a Glimpse of the Kingdom of God

Jared and Lindi invited us to their house for a get-together of close friends, and we were excited, but a little stumped. People we’d only known for a few weeks were bringing us in and covering us in hospitality, but we weren’t sure why. Lindi announced that she was pregnant, and we all cried, and Travis and I got in the car saying these people will be our people for a long time.

The next week, we found out I was pregnant. We drove to Mama Carmen’s coffee shop where Lindi worked to see her and Jared. They looked at us for a few seconds and knew. We laughed and cried and it hit us again. These people will be our people.

Jared and Lindi brought us into a community of Christ-seeking, love-abiding sinners who drank in the Spirit of God in all ways they could muster. Our first evening with this group, I walked into the kitchen and met our new friends. Amber was pregnant and excused herself for looking so big and round; I thought she was the prettiest and sweetest thing I’d seen in a long time. Lindsey had just had Nora, and brought us into her home with such grace and warmth, I could barely contain my emotion.

We were home.

Jesus – The De-Motivational Speaker

Americans love the vicarious sense of pride they get from the odds-defying underdog myth. But often, all the attaboy-ing translates to spiritual performance and a definition of sin that is closer to good intentions gone awry than war against the maker of the universe. Old habits die hard, and roughly 500 years ago Martin Luther saw a similar self-congratulating theology and dissected it with uniform precision.

MARTIN LUTHER: NAILED IT!

Historically, Martin Luther is best known for igniting the Reformation by nailing the 95 theses to the Wittenberg cathedral’s door. But what really got the conceptual ball rolling was a meeting of an Augustinian monastic order at Heidelberg in 1518. There, Luther defended his theological position in 28 cryptic theses against scholastic theology in an effort to re-focus theologians on Jesus’ work on the cross.

GOD: NOT MR. DREAMS-COME-TRUE

In Luther’s day, medieval theology defined God as fully embodying the glory of human achievement. Accordingly, glory was best represented by the monarchy. Royalty was conceptually understandable, so obviously God is a really, really, really glorious King. In effect, the scholastics reinvented God in their own image. Sound familiar? In John 14, Phillip thought that Jesus was holding out by playing a sort of spiritual pat-a-cake with the disciples. Phillip wanted to cut to the chase and see the Father. Jesus’ reply was: “he who has seen me has seen the Father.”

God doesn’t get things done through spiritual pick-me-ups, but through death and resurrection.

Likewise, Jesus was rebuked by Peter (!) for bumming the disciples out with all that dark, going-to-the-cross-to-die-talk. Jesus’ reply? "Get behind me, Satan!" The disciples had selfish plans for Jesus. He had something else in mind.

How Churches Became Morality Clubs of Religion

If there’s one thing that we in the church do extremely well, it’s ignoring the greatest threats that face us. We roll massive Trojan horses inside our sanctuary walls while feverishly battling the mosquitoes that buzz around us. And once we wake up and grasp the true danger—if we ever do—the damage done is often incalculable.

We wring our cultural hands over the de-Christianizing of America. We conduct massive studies to ascertain why we’re not attracting Generation X, Y, or Z. We school church leaders in the art of politics so they can run for office against godless rivals. We curtail the heresy of boredom by injecting some razzle-dazzle into our worship. We fight and fret over the election of less-conservative denominational leaders.

We strive, in short, to master the art of swatting mosquitoes. And all the while, we remain blind to the fact that in pulpit after pulpit, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is as rare as Merry Christmas inside a synagogue.

We are a sinning church with a preaching problem.
It’s cross-denominational.
It’s rampant.
It’s damnable.
The blame for it is shared by preachers and hearers alike.
And there’s only one way to change it.

This begins in an elementary fashion: by recognizing and acknowledging not only the problem, but its catastrophic nature.

The Consolation of Weak Saints - Martin Luther

BY MARTIN LUTHER

I have often stated above and elsewhere that it pleases me greatly and is salutary for us to hear of the weaknesses of the saints, for these examples of weakness are more necessary for us and bring more consolation than the examples of that heroic and very great fortitude and other virtues. Thus the fact that David killed Goliath, a bear, a lion, etc., does not edify me much. For I cannot imitate such things, since they surpass my strength and all my thinking. Although they commend the saints in their strength and heroic fortitude, they do not concern us; for they are too sublime for us to be able to match or imitate them.

But when examples of weakness, sins, trepidation, and trials are set forth in the saints—as when I read David’s complaints, sobs, fears, and feelings of despair—they buoy me up in a wonderful manner and give great consolation. For I see how they, fearful and terrified though they were, did not perish but buoyed themselves up with the promises they had received; and from this I conclude that there is no need for me to despair either. For in this struggle with hell, in fears and struggles of conscience, they feel and speak as if they had no promises at all. Nevertheless, they are finally preserved and sustained by the Word.

OUT OF THE DEPTHS: WHEN CHURCHES BECOME CRIME SCENES

Out of the depths have we cried unto Thee, O Lord.

Out of the morgue, the hospital, the cemetery soil baptized with a thousand tears.

Out of the rubble of our shattered lives, our dead children, our bitter grief and lacerated hearts.

Out of the grave into which we have plummeted, alive yet dead, the dirt of a thousand decimated hopes spilling down into that black, hopeless pit.

Out of these depths have we cried unto Thee, O Lord.
Lord, hear our voice.
Let Thine ears be attentive to the voice of our supplications.

But even though every prayer thrown toward heaven lands within our Lord’s open ears, that is not enough.

It is not enough to have a God way-up-there who hangs on our every word.

It is not enough that he hears or even that he pities our predicament.

We need something more.

Don't Share the Gospel with Me: Luther, Forde and a Seminarian

BY RALEIGH SADLER

“Whatever you do, don’t share the Gospel with me?” Those were my exact words to my slightly mystified seminary professor. As he set his coffee down, I could tell that he was holding back in an effort to allow me to process what I was thinking. “To be honest,” I said, “I don’t think God loves me. I feel like He is angry at me. I feel like I have prayed the “prayer” over a thousand times and He won’t hear it.” As I continued to share, I figured that this couldn’t be the “norm” for incoming students, like myself. I mean, you don’t have to be perfect to be enrolled to be at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, but you should at least, at bare minimum, be a believer…right? Here I was baring my soul to my “Formations of Christian ministry” professor over dry bacon and watery eggs. In my head, I figured that the only recourse would be for the administration to send me home. This would make sense to me because ultimately I can’t tell people about the love of Christ if I am not sure that I have received it.

Surprisingly, my professor didn’t condemn me. As a matter of fact, he didn’t do much at all. He just sat there silently listening to me as I poured out my heart. He didn’t respond with Christian cliches or platitudes nor did he give me any advice to “fix” my problem. He just sat with me as I struggled to finish my breakfast. After waiting for me to gather myself, he calmly asked to pray for me. He encouraged me to stay the course and to seek him out as I processed my current crisis of faith. .........

Repentance In Your Name vs Repentance In Christ's Name

BY MARTIN LUTHER

Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations… -Luke 24:45-47

What is repentance in His name? Hereby he singles out the repentance that is not made in His name, and therefore the text compels us to consider two kinds of repentance. First, a repentance not in His name is, when I come with my own works and undertake to blot out sin with them; as we all have been taught and have tried to do. This is not repentance in God’s name, but in the devil’s name. For this is striving to propitiate God by our own works and by our own strength, a thing God cannot allow.

Go And Be Dead

BY KYLE G JONES

We sinners share a common problem when it comes to Jesus’ parables. We read them with an eye to our own righteousness. That is, we read them with our eyes peeled for what they might tell us to do. We read them with Law tinted lenses.

While it is true that Jesus’ parables contain Law (commands and demands from God), if we’re to understand them rightly our eyes need to hunt tirelessly for where Christ and his Gospel reside within them. Though not always easy, we must avoid the temptation to make the Law our primary prize while reading or listening to Jesus’ parables.

Take the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). Its popular understanding is that Jesus expanded the definition of neighbor to include all people by answering the question “Who is my neighbor?” with a story illustrating sacrificial care toward one’s enemy. And he made it official when, at the end, he commanded: “go and do likewise.”

But, “Who is my neighbor?” was not the primary question driving the discourse between Jesus and the lawyer that resulted in this well-known parable. The lawyer’s opening question to Jesus is, “Teacher what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

The parable of the Good Samaritan comes in the context of a salvation question. “Jesus, what must I do to be saved?”

Where does Jesus point him? Jesus asks, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” According to Jesus, the lawyer gives the right answer and, if he does what the Law commands, he will live.

Racism, Dealing with It

Editor’s note: in the wake of the events in Charlottesville, Virginia, a word on dealing with racism from Professor Leo Sánchez.

In a sinful world, racism will not go away. Every so often, it raises its ugly head in public. But rather than merely stating what seems so obvious—racism is a sin—here are some practical ways to confront it head on and deal with it.

Repentance

Public displays of racism offer an opportunity for repentance. Not merely calling for someone else to repent, but for my own repentance. Which is actually more difficult than condemning racism in general because it makes racism my personal problem. Here we sin by commission and omission.

Our sinful flesh gladly finds ways to avoid people of other races or paint them in a suspicious light. Or it simply fails to acknowledge racism as a real problem in our society, or the pain people who have suffered discrimination because of the color of their skin go through on a regular basis. The appropriate response to this state of affairs is neither claiming to have “no racist bone in my body” nor appealing to one’s innocence or ignorance about America’s so-called original sin. Nor will winning an argument about whether racism is a personal or systemic sin save anyone either.

The sinful flesh finds all kinds of sneaky ways to avoid dealing head on with racism and ethnocentrism. So the best first response is simply to repent: “We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” And then to wait for God’s response, trusting in his mercy: “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” In this cyclical rhythm of repentance, of contrition and absolution, Christians learn to live daily under the sign of their baptism into Christ, drowning the sinful flesh so that a new creature may rise every day.

Vigilance

Public displays of racism offer an opportunity for vigilance. Sin is not only a corrupted state but an actual way of being in the world. This is why we do not simply confess that we are sinful by (corrupted) nature, but also that we sin specifically in thought, word, and deed. Accordingly, racism is not merely about people acting out their racism in public, but much more often people thinking and speaking in subtly racist and ethnocentric ways.

To be watchful is not to turn a blind eye to racism, pretending it does not really exist among “good” people like us but only among a few “bad” apples out there. Instead, Christians openly acknowledge life is a rough pilgrimage in the wilderness, where we are constantly vulnerable to the seductions of the evil one, including the idea that we are superior to others in some way. If having a superiority complex were not a perennial human problem, why would Christians have to be reminded to put others before themselves? We must, therefore, be careful not to become overly confident about our own power to resist the lure of supremacy, lest we become an easy prey to it without even noticing it.

Another common seduction we are vulnerable to is the idea that if we fight against flesh and blood, and kill our enemies (either literally, or more likely with our words), then we will do our part to eradicate from society the perpetrators of racism. Yet we know hatred only breeds more hatred. Here Christians must avoid the seduction of imitating the language of the world, the violence of words (even in the name of freedom of speech), which parades monsters while neglecting the potential harm to their own spiritual lives of an unchecked fear of and distance from people who look different from us.

It is easier to go after evildoers. And indeed, when we see evil, we must call it what it is. But let’s face it. It is more difficult to be accountable to others for our manner of speech, so as not to slip into attitudes toward people of different races and ethnicities based on stereotypes and myths perpetuated by sensationalist media. No one is immune from these seductions. So the proper response to racism is not to deny our vulnerability to it, but simply to be watchful and pray: “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil”; and “May your holy angel be with us, that the evil foe may have no power over us.”

Sacrifice

Public displays of racism offer an opportunity for service. Contrition and forgiveness bear fruits of repentance. Grafted onto Christ the Vine, Christians bear the fruit of his Spirit in their lives. Racism, on the other hand, bears plain signs of the works of the flesh. It promotes enmity, strife, anger, selfishness, dissension, and party spirit. Amidst such sinful passions and desires, Christians dare to live and walk by the Spirit. Doing so is never easy. It entails sacrifice.

Where there is hate, Christians show love. Where there is sorrow, joy; where conflict, peace; where anxiety, patience; where rudeness, kindness; and so on. There can never be too much of these things in a sinful world. Walking in the Spirit is not without personal sacrifice. In showing love, we become the objects of hate; when sharing joy, we hear of the other’s grief; when preaching peace, conflict comes our way; when teaching patience, we bear other’s anxieties; when we show kindness, people rudely dismiss us.

Racism is an expression of egocentricity. It is a love of self which only loves those who look like self. It is a form of what Luther called our being curved in on ourselves. Service takes us outside ourselves, away from a misguided love of self and into the realm of neighbors who are different from us. We begin to see life in terms of the pain of others, including those whose race and ethnicity makes them the object of hurtful words and acts, and dare to speak on their behalf and defend them when they are portrayed in the worst possible light or their lives are threatened in some way—even if we suffer for it. No one said being a Christian is easy.

Hospitality

Public displays of racism offer an opportunity for hospitality. Racism is a form of exclusion and aims at alienation, a sin that seeks to destroy the human hope for acceptance and belonging. It teaches that humans can justify their lives—their worth and value—before others on the basis of the color of their bodies and the privileges accompanying their racial identity.

In a world where our churches and communities often remain de facto segregated, we begin to get comfortable with those who look and speak like us. We have a hard time crossing racial, ethnic, cultural, and social borders to meet neighbors on the other side. Perhaps we are afraid of the unknown. Perhaps we are too comfortable. We can call it whatever we want. But whatever the reason, we are missing out. What if God surprises us on the other side of the border and richly blesses us our lives with neighbors who look and speak differently?

Jesus was from Nazareth in Galilee, where nothing good comes from. Due to their proximity to Gentiles, Galileans were seen as less than pure and wise. Yet God surprises us and works out his salvation through a Galilean! And it is out of suspect Galilee that Jesus sends out his Galilean disciples to make disciples by baptizing and teaching. Here again, God defies common human expectations. In his own ministry, Jesus crossed into the lives of Samaritans, strangers and foreigners of mixed race and religion considered enemies of God. The Spirit of Jesus moved Philip in Acts to cross into the land of the Samaritans, where the evangelist welcomed them into God’s kingdom through baptism in the name of Jesus, and the Samaritans received the gift of the Holy Spirit. God’s house is wide and all races have a place at the table. Through these stories of divine welcome, we learn that justification before God is not by race but by grace.

We also learn to reach out to neighbors outside our comfort zones. One deals with racism by inviting people of different races to share life with us in our homes, churches, and communities. A welcoming attitude moves beyond merely being aware of the other while remaining in a parallel universes. Hospitality crosses borders to learn from and collaborate with new neighbors. Got time for coffee?

Devotion

Public displays of racism offer an opportunity for devotion. When people of different races fight against each other, or more likely (and perhaps problematically) keep their distance from each other, we have all lost respect for God’s creation. We no longer acknowledge that when we stand before another human being we stand before God’s own creation. Since worship includes faith and its fruits (love), racism gets in the way of the proper worship of God. It dishonors both the Creator and his creation.

True worship gladly receives God’s gifts of creation and redemption. When do we make time to revel in such gifts? The day of rest was just the time to do so. God’s people kept the Sabbath not merely through the cessation of labor, but by thanking God for the work of his hands and for saving his people through the Exodus. The broader point of the day of rest, however, was to make time any day in the midst of busy lives to behold the awesomeness of these divine gifts with thanksgiving and praise, joy and celebration. Today we are so occupied that we no longer stand still to soak in the beauty of God’s work, including the gift of neighbors, and to celebrate it.

Racism gets in the way of proper devotion to God because it denies the beauty of his creation, which comes in no other way than in many different colors. It also denies the gift of the church into which God has gathered unto himself, through his Word, a people from different nations, races, and languages. By resting in God’s promises of creation and new creation, Christians learn to look once again at neighbors of different races through the eyes of faith and love—namely, as God’s own precious creatures for whom Christ gave his life. They also learn to give thanks and praise to God for the lives and gifts new neighbors bring to them personally, as well as to the church and our world. And yes, they learn to rejoice in each other’s company and play together.

Come, Holy Spirit!

How then do we respond to racism, whether crass or subtle, not only in public but at all times? By looking in the mirror with the eyes of repentance, at our spiritual lives with the eyes of vigilance, outside of ourselves with the eyes of a servant, toward excluded neighbors with the eyes of welcome, and toward the Giver of all gifts with the eyes of devotion. This picture of life is, of course, quite a burden for any person to fulfill on his or her own. Inevitably, we will come up short when dealing with racist and ethnocentric impulses.

Yet Christ’s grace is abundant and he gives us his Spirit to provide what is needed along the journey. If lack of repentance, the Spirit will kill the sinner in us to make us alive. If lack of vigilance amidst the seductions of evil, the Spirit will make us watchful and accountable to one another in our thoughts, speech, and deeds. If lack of service and hospitality, the Spirit will warm up our cold hearts toward the strange other and bear his fruit in our lives, leading us to engage in sacrificial and welcoming acts on behalf of marginalized neighbors. If lack of devotion, the Spirit will give us rest in God to stand back and behold the colorful beauty of his creation in the face of our neighbors. So come, Holy Spirit! We need you!

What Does It Mean to Be a Christian?

There’s a poem Eugene Peterson can’t get out of his head. It’s a brief, difficult poem called “As Kingfishers Catch Fire” by 19th-century poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, just the kind you might expect a thinky, reclusive person like Peterson to like. “Kingfishers” layers on simile, pointing to a “just man” (seemingly “just” as in “moral”), whom it describes as one who “Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—Christ.”

“As Kingfishers Catch Fire” is about things—or people—acting within their nature—behaving like what they are. Today, you’ll hear this called authenticity. And that’s what lingers with Peterson. 

You see, he spent his life in the Church, pastoring, preaching and (famously) writing. But if you talk to him about it, he’ll readily tell you not all of his career accomplished what he now thinks it should have.

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If you’re only a little bit familiar with Christian culture, you know Peterson’s work. He’s the author of some 30 books of theology, poetry and commentary, all of which are worth your attention. But one book in particular promises to make up his legacy. In 2002, Peterson published his defining work, The Message.

I Wonder If Sunday School Is Destroying Our Kids

Several years ago I met with a woman distraught by her son’s rejection of Christianity.

She said, “I did everything I could to raise him right. I taught him to be like the ‘heroes of faith,’ with the faithfulness of Abraham, the goodness of Joseph, the pure heart of David, and the obedience of Esther.”

She wondered why he rejected Christianity.

I wondered why it took him so long.

Here is how we destroy the gospel message

Look at almost any Sunday school curriculum. You’ll find:

• Abraham was faithful, and God made him the father of a nation. So be faithful like Abraham.
• Joseph was a good little boy (unlike his “bad” brothers), and God made him Prime Minister of Egypt. So be good like Joseph.
• David had a pure heart (unlike his brothers), and God made him King of Israel. So have a pure heart like David.
• Esther was an obedient girl. God made her Queen of Persia and she saved God’s people. So be obedient like Esther.
• Finally, if we fail to be good, Jesus will forgive us (a “P.S.” tacked onto the end).

What’s so bad about these Sunday school lessons?

Nothing really. Except that they lie about God, they lie about these “heroes of the faith,” they lie about the Bible, and they lie about the gospel. Apart from that, they are pretty good. Oh, they also create “younger brother” rebels and “older brother” Pharisees.

The Fog of Fear: Panic Attacks, Anxiety and Being Overwhelmed

You can see it far off, looming on the horizon, a thick fog menacing off the coast and swirling in the distance. You know the signs. You’ve been here many times before, but you’ve learned to carry on.  At first you kind of ignore it, you are aware it’s there, but you don’t want to work yourself up so you busy yourself with things in the hopes the winds will change and it is driven out to sea. But the winds rarely change.

In time it approaches, subtle and quiet, caressing its way—almost seducing—its way back into your life. Your ostrich-defense has not worked and you aren’t able to continue the charade of hiding. At first it’s manageable. “This isn’t so bad” you think, “I can handle this.” But before you know it the fog is all around you, the thick blur is everywhere and the familiar comforts are whited-out. In the fog sounds are distant echoes, faces are veiled shapes and the familiar becomes strange—but strange because this particular strange you know all too well. Feeling alienated, overwhelmed—unable to trust yourself, in the fog of anxiety you give up. You lose yourself in a kind of existential madness. You have a panic attack.

God's Humility For You

"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." -Philippians 2:5-11

Christ assumed the form of a servant, even while remaining God and having the form of God; he was God, and his divine words and works were spoken and wrought for our benefit. As a servant, he served us with these. He did not require us to serve him in compensation for them, as in the capacity of a Lord he had a just right to do. He sought not honor or profit thereby, but our benefit and salvation. It was a willing service and gratuitously performed, for the good of men. It was a service unspeakably great, because of the ineffable greatness of the minister and servant -- God eternal, whom all angels and creatures serve.