"What if the Church...Were More Attractive and Less Condemning?"

"You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar," Mom said.  She was right then, and she's right now. 

Thumper the Rabbit's mom agrees, adding, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all."

Yet, if you were to ask the unchurched world what it thinks of the church, most people would say that the church is condemning, judgmental, and rude. 

If that's how we come across, it makes me wonder...are we doing it right? 

Because Jesus didn't come across that way.  Jesus was known as the "friend of sinners," not the finger-shaking judge.  Jesus focused on attracting people to God, rather than condemning them.  In John 3 (NIV), Nichodemus sought the Master out for a secret meeting because he knew his interest in Jesus would be scorned by his fellow religious leaders.  He asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life.  Jesus answered:

14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

Jesus was talking about an incident in Israel's history (Numbers 21) where venomous serpents swarmed the camp of wandering Hebrews, biting and killing many.  They attributed this plague to God's punishing them for grumbling.  This is fitting, because it underscores that when we grumble, we poison ourselves.  The solution Moses presented was to make a bronze serpent, and set it on a pole.  Everyone who looked to the metal snake for healing was miraculously cured.  Jesus referenced this odd occurence as an allegory.  Just as healing came to the Israelites by attracting their attention away from the grumbling and pain, to focus instead on the source of their healing, Jesus himself would be lifted up as a source of healing.  In John 12:32, Jesus would reinforce this approach of attracting people to him by saying, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

Instead of focusing on the negative, Jesus says, "Look at me!" Instead of condemning, Jesus offers hope.  Again, in John 3, the narrator picks up the theme from Jesus' words to Nicodemus.  

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

Clearly, Jesus is not about condemning the world, but about saving it.  This is his mission.  And this ought to be what the church is about.  

Unfortunately, the church has all too often been about shaking its finger and sometimes shaking its fist at the world, condemning a culture that doesn't follow the church's way.  This doesn't make sense, because how can we expect a world that isn't a part of the church to follow the way of Jesus?  That's like condemning a cat for not acting more like a dog.  Instead, the church ought to be inspiring dogs to act like better dogs.  Maybe that kind of gentle attraction will one day make cats say, "Can you show me how to be a better cat, too?"  

So, I ask, "What if the church were more attractive and less condeming?"  How would it change the way we operate among fellow believers?  How would it change the way we relate to people we view as "outside the faith?"  I believe if we shift and become more like Jesus in this matter, the spirit of the church would change entirely, and more people would be drawn to Christ.

"Love Doesn't Keep Score"

Have you ever wondered where those tennis folks get off, using the word "love" to mean "nothing?"  That doesn't make any sense. Because I'm a word nerd, I looked it up.   Here's one thing I found on Quora:

MAHALAKSHMI MURALI, Tennis BloggerAnswered Nov 17, 2017Originally Answered: What does love means in tennis?The origin of “love” in tennis is disputed. It technically corresponds to zero. One of the possible derivations of the word “love” could be the French expression “L’œuf” which translates into the egg because an egg looks like the number zero. Another possible theory of the origin of “love” could be that at the beginning of the match when the scores are zero the opponents have love of each other, hence “Love All”.

Etymonline further illuminates:

Old English lufu "feeling of love; romantic sexual attraction; affection; friendliness; the love of God; Love as an abstraction or personification," from Proto-Germanic *lubo (source also of Old High German liubi "joy," German Liebe "love;" Old Norse, Old Frisian, Dutch lof; German Lob "praise;" Old Saxon liof, Old Frisian liaf, Dutch lief, Old High German liob, German lieb, Gothic liufs "dear, beloved"). The Germanic words are from PIE root *leubh- "to care, desire, love."

The weakened sense "liking, fondness" was in Old English. Meaning "a beloved person" is from early 13c. The sense "no score" (in tennis, etc.) is 1742, from the notion of playing for love (1670s), that is, for no stakes. 

So, love is playing for nothing.  Love is playing for no score.  This reminds me of 1 Corinthians 13:1-7.  I don't usually, but I'm going to share those verses from Eugene Peterson's The Message:

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

2 If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

3-7 If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back, but keeps going to the end.

Right in the center of all those qualities is that love "doesn't keep score."

I can't tell you how many times I've fallen into the trap of keeping score with someone I love.  "I've given and given to them, but they haven't given back."  Or, "They've hurt me so many times!"  It's like the tennis score is 40-love, where "love" means "nothing," and that's my score.  Zip.  Zero.  That's what keeping score gets you. 

But what if we change the meaning of the tennis score "love" and understand it this way:  "Man, you really got one on me--but I still love you!  Well, you're scoring more than I am, but I still love you."  You get to the point where if your score is "love," you're no longer keeping score at all--becaue what's the point?  In fact, there are no points.  You're not in the relationship to win.  You're in it for the love of the game, for the love of the other person.  So let them score.  Or better yet--if you quit keeping score then their triumphs aren't scores anymore anyway.  You simply get to say, "Good one!  Way go go!  Look at how well you've done!"  And that's a much better way to play the game than competing anyway.

Have you ever gotten frustrated in an argument, thrown up your arms and said, "I can't win!?"

Why are you trying to win, anyway?  That's not a very nice way to play the game where "love" means neither of you is keeping score.  Instead, when you're in a disagreement, step aside.  Go back to 1 Corinthians 13, and remind yourself what love is all about.

Sacred Space; Omnipresent God

Do you have a sacred place where you go, to get alone with God?  Maybe it's a mountain stream or a favorite beach, or a place in a park where the flowers bloom.  Human beings long for sacred places--breathing space where we can commune with our own hearts and with God.  For some people, that special place is the church where they grew up.  I remember the song, "Church in the Wildwood", by the Statler brothers:

There's a church in the valley by the wildwood

No lovelier spot in the dale

No place is so dear to my childhood

As the little brown church in the vale

I have several such places, where my heart goes in memory, as I think of special events that formed my soul.  Yes, one of those, for me, is Mount Olivet Baptist Church, where I grew up.  There, I first learned to trust God, learned to follow, and then learned to lead.  I even had moments when I believed I saw a divine glow in the sanctuary, during worship--but did God LIVE at Mount Olivet?  Well, yes.  But no more than God lives in other places.  Yet, even though God is omnipresent (everywhere at once), God is also often known in sacred places.

For me, sacred places go beyond church buildings.  I think of certains spots by certain rivers where I have felt God's presence strongly (thank you to Nancy Hugo and the River Project in high school).  I remember mountain top experiences where God seemed so near (thank you, BGAV Appalachian Trail Minister's Hikes).  I can also rememeber hospital rooms where we all held hands and prayed, where we all felt the presence of angels.  Yes, God is everywhere, but God is also in certain places at specific times.

When Solomon dedicated the Temple in Jerusalem, he prayed for God's blessing on the sacred place.  He said, "The lord has said that he would dwell in a dark cloud; I have indeed built a magnificent temple for you, a place for you to dwell forever (1 Kings 8:12-13 NIV)."  While God's dark cloud of mystery obscures the divine presence, still God condescends to meet us in the tangible world.  

Still, Solomon recognized God's omnipresence.  "But will God really dwell on earth?  The heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain you.  How much less this temple I have built (v. 27)."  Solomon knows that God is beyond time and space, yet he also knows that people need some physical marker to identify and remember their experience with God.  This is why he suggests "praying toward" the temple.  This tradition, called Mizrah, became so important for many Jewish believers that they hung or painted special ornaments on the side of their house that was closest to Jerusalem, just so they could know which direction to pray towards.  It wasn't that they believed that God would hear their prayers more if they faced the temple (or the place where the demolished temple used to be).  It was a way of orienting their hearts toward sacred space. 

Today, I wonder--what's your sacred space?  Do you have a physical place in your life, where you feel close to God?  How do you jive the two concepts of an omnipresent God, and a very present God in a tangible world?  Do you believe God is "up in heaven?"  Or do you believe that God is right here?  Maybe it's both!  Maybe even saying "both" is too limited.  Maybe it's even more than that--far more than words can tell.

"Do Your Possessions Possess You?" or, "Demonic Possessions"

In the past year, I've learned to let go of possessions.  Moving from Virginia to the Pacific Northwest in the winter, I couldn't bring my truck and travel trailer across the mountainous country in the snow, so I left them behind and moved with three suitcases of stuff.  I lived with those three suitcases of stuff for seven and a half months before I was able to go back to Virginia and get my things.  Even then, I could only take back with me about a thousand pounds of belongings, since it had to fit into the back of my pickup and since I was towing a trailer and was limited by the towing capacity of my vehicle.  

In essence, I've learned to live with very little.  And be content with that.  Did I miss my things, in the intervening time when they were in Virginia and I was on the West Coast?  Sure.  But I learned not to be attached to them, to not long for them.  I learned to feel complete without them.  And now that I have them, I recognize the extra work it's going to take in my life to take care of those things.  It'll take extra time to maintain what I own.  It's definitely worth it--but it's also a fact that having fewer things allows for a simpler life.

In contrast, I know some people who are hoarders.  Their homes are crammed, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, with stuff.  They think they possess their possessions, but in reality, their possessions possess them.  They have become slaves to their belongings, so much that the lack of space in their homes constricts them and keeps them from fully functioning.

Kitchen counter space is taken up by so much clutter that there's no room for meal prep--so they eat unhealthy, prepackaged meals that they just microwave, or they go out to eat too much.  Both of these alternatives to real meal prep are expensive both to bodily health and to the wallet.

When I visit them, chairs and couches are covered with so much stuff that I am forced to stand during the visit.  The lack of space leads to lack of hospitality, which also leads to lack of friends.  

And on and on.  Their possessions possess them.  And that's demonic.  Maybe that's hyperbole and maybe that's not--I'm not the one to judge.  But I do believe there's something  spiritually oppressive happening when a person is held captive by their own belongings.  Demonic possessions may not always take the form of a person foaming at the mouth and spewing profanity.  Sometimes possessions simply fill up and crowd out a person's life until there's no room for God.  

As I write this, I wonder--what's your relationship with your stuff?  Do you NEED your things, or could you be content without most of them?  Do you control your belongings, or do your possessions possess you?

"I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:11b-13 NIV)."

Nature abhors a vacuum. Maybe it prefers a clean sweep.

Have you ever felt a vacuum in your life--not like a Hoover, but like a black hole?  Grief can make you feel that way, and so can depression.  It's not only death of a loved one that brings this kind of sadness, but the loss of a marriage, loss of a job, children moving away, your own move to a different home, or change of any kind.  Depression can be brought on by life situations, and it can also be caused by chemical imbalances.  These things can make you feel like you have a vacuum in your heart, consumed from within by a black hole.

In 1 Samuel 16, King Saul felt this way:

14 Now the Spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord tormented him.

15 Saul’s attendants said to him, “See, an evil spirit from God is tormenting you. 16 Let our lord command his servants here to search for someone who can play the lyre. He will play when the evil spirit from God comes on you, and you will feel better.”

17 So Saul said to his attendants, “Find someone who plays well and bring him to me.”
18 One of the servants answered, “I have seen a son of Jesse of Bethlehem who knows how to play the lyre. He is a brave man and a warrior. He speaks well and is a fine-looking man. And the Lord is with him.”

19 Then Saul sent messengers to Jesse and said, “Send me your son David, who is with the sheep.” 20 So Jesse took a donkey loaded with bread, a skin of wine and a young goat and sent them with his son David to Saul.

21 David came to Saul and entered his service. Saul liked him very much, and David became one of his armor-bearers. 22 Then Saul sent word to Jesse, saying, “Allow David to remain in my service, for I am pleased with him.”

23 Whenever the spirit from God came on Saul, David would take up his lyre and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him.

There are three theological points that I don't have time to get into in depth right now, but I want to briefly touch on.  The first is that God doesn't send evil spirits--that was the common misconception of Hebrew authors at the time.  The second is that under the Old Covenant, the Holy Spirit would come and go, but under the New Covenant, believers have the indwelling Holy Spirit forever.  The third is that some people interpret "evil spirit" to mean a demon and others interpret that phrase to simply mean a bad mood or psychological event.  Your opinion on that is immaterial to what I'm saying today.  So what's the point?

Vacuums want to be filled, and messy houses need a clean sweep.  

Saul felt the way that he felt because the Spirit of the Lord had left him.  Empty spaces in the heart want to be filled with something.  Some people who feel internal vacuums fill them with drugs, alcohol, sex, YouTube, political campaigning, food, hoarding, or anything else that can be addictive.  Others fill the void with self pity, complaining, and undermining of others.  These are negative ways of dealing with the empty space inside.  When Saul felt this way, he could be slanderous and murderous.

To deal with the problem, Saul needed to make a clean sweep inside his heart.  He needed to "get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice (Eph 4:31 NIV)."  But you can't simply sweep a house clean and leave it that way.  Jesus says in Luke 11 (NIV):

24 “When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ 25 When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. 26 Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.”

What Jesus means is that you can't simply empty out the bad habits, the negative thinking, and the problematic things from your life, get that clean sweep, set your house in order, and expect it to stay that way.  You've got to fill your life with positive things that cancel out the negative.  Members of Alcoholics Anonymous have learned to replace drinking with meetings, and with helping others.  In the times when Saul was successful at resisting the vacuum, he would fill his heart with songs of worship.  This is helpful because Psalm 22:3 says that God is enthroned on the praises of people.  This means when we put God on the throne in our hearts, He takes the seat that was vacated by negative things.  He gets rid of the vacuum, makes a clean sweep, and then keeps the house clean.

I wonder--if you're trying to get rid of something negative in your life, are you simply trying to cast it out?  Or are you replacing it with something good?  I hope you'll fill the vacuum with good things today.

Celebrity in our Midst

Once, I went on a ghost tour in Wilmington, North Carolina.  A small group of people joined the tour guide as he led us from one old mansion to another, through the town graveyard, past an old tavern, telling us stories of people who had been murdered along the way.  One person in the crowd appeared to be enjoying the tour, and enjoying the fact that nobody seemed to recognize him.  Actor Michael Cera was part of this tour group--not as part of of the production, but simply as a fellow tourist.  He's a pretty unassuming guy, and even though I did recognize him, I never acted like a fan, never ran up and asked him to confirm his identity, never asked for his autograph.  I let him have his anonymity.

It wasn't too long before that incident, that I was in Scottsville, Virginia, in an ice cream shop.  Through the window, I saw singer Dave Matthews  (who owns a farm outside of town) walking down the sidewalk.  Others (possibly tourists) inside the shop also saw him through the window, pausing as he considered whether to take his daughter inside.  The others began fawning over him and treating him like an idol, even through the panes of glass, waiting to see if he would join them in the ice cream parlor.  I happened to be on my way out.  I stopped to say hello to Dave, (who's a really nice person), and told him that he should be aware that if he goes inside, he should be prepared to encounter adoring fans.  He thanked me, and we said goodbye.  I don't know whether he chose to go in and be recognized, or not.

Sometimes, celebrities like to be recognized, and sometimes they don't.  It may be that they're trying to have personal time with their family.  They may be on a ghost tour and just want to be left alone.  Or, they may want you to know who they are.  After all, celebrities choose their lives of fame and certainly profit from it.  It's hard to know what to do when you recognize celebrity.

In 1 Samuel 16, the prophet Samuel goes to Bethlehem to find a king for Israel.  He thinks he will find that king among prominent Jesse's more stalwart sons.  One is the strongest, another is the tallest, another is the most handsome.  Samuel almost misses the celebrity right under his nose--little David, who was so ignominious that he was nearly forgotten.  Just a shepherd boy, tending the sheep.  But God chooses him as king of Israel.

In Luke 24, after Jesus' resurrection, two disciples encounter a stranger on the road to Emmaus.  They spend all day with him, talking about current events and listening as he explains about the Messiah.  It's not until evening, when they break bread together, that they realize that the stranger IS THE MESSIAH they've been talking about.  Then, Jesus vanishes from their sight.

Sometimes, we recognize celebrities in our midst.  Other times, we miss them entirely.  But what if we stopped to recognize the celebrities who are ALWAYS among us?  The word "celebrity" means somebody to be celebrated--and isn't that your spouse, your child, your parent, your neighbor, your coworker, your friend?  Isn't that the person nearest to you, that you tend to overlook as common?  The truth is, celebrities are in our midst every day, if we only have the eyes to see them.  The divine is among us in every person we meet, if we only have the heart to embrace God With Us, Emmanuel.

I hope today you'll recognize celebrities in your midst.  I hope you'll see God in the most common person, and that you'll treat them like the precious one that they are.

"What Would You Have Said?"

"I grew up in the Lutheran church," she told me yesterday.  "I went through Sunday school and was taught everything I was supposed to learn.  But I've drifted away--I guess a lot of my generation drifts away.  I don't believe like my parents believe.  I guess I'm an agnostic, really.  But after a while, I started feeling disconnected.  Like, I don't have a sense of community.  Well, there's this Methodist church I've found, that a friend invited me to.  They have a praise band, and they need a guitarist.  I don't like Christian rock--but I've started playing with them.  I like it--but I don't know if I'm just pretending to be something that I'm not.  I like the sense of connection and community that I find in church, but I'm not sure if I should be there if I don't accept everything they believe.  What do you think?"*

Instead of jumping in and telling you immediately how I answered her, I'm curious what you'd say. 

Some Christians would answer that unless she believes the same way they do, she shouldn't be in church--that church is a gathering of like-minded Christians.  Others would say she is welcome to attend, but definitely shouldn't join the church as a member.  Still others would say she should be welcome there, but shouldn't be playing in the band, since that's leading worship and worship leadership is only for those who believe.  Some go even further and say that a believer should only be in worship leadership if they're living life by some pretty righteous standards.  You get a lot of opinions from Christians about who's in and who's out, in terms of the church. 

In Acts 11:1-18 (MSG), Peter explains to the church that he has learned a tough lesson about judging people to be insiders and outsiders.  Here's what he says:

1-3 The news traveled fast and in no time the leaders and friends back in Jerusalem heard about it—heard that the non-Jewish “outsiders” were now “in.” When Peter got back to Jerusalem, some of his old associates, concerned about circumcision, called him on the carpet: “What do you think you’re doing rubbing shoulders with that crowd, eating what is prohibited and ruining our good name?”

4-6 So Peter, starting from the beginning, laid it out for them step-by-step: “Recently I was in the town of Joppa praying. I fell into a trance and saw a vision: Something like a huge blanket, lowered by ropes at its four corners, came down out of heaven and settled on the ground in front of me. Milling around on the blanket were farm animals, wild animals, reptiles, birds—you name it, it was there. Fascinated, I took it all in.

7-10 “Then I heard a voice: ‘Go to it, Peter—kill and eat.’ I said, ‘Oh, no, Master. I’ve never so much as tasted food that wasn’t kosher.’ The voice spoke again: ‘If God says it’s okay, it’s okay.’ This happened three times, and then the blanket was pulled back up into the sky.

11-14 “Just then three men showed up at the house where I was staying, sent from Caesarea to get me. The Spirit told me to go with them, no questions asked. So I went with them, I and six friends, to the man who had sent for me. He told us how he had seen an angel right in his own house, real as his next-door neighbor, saying, ‘Send to Joppa and get Simon, the one they call Peter. He’ll tell you something that will save your life—in fact, you and everyone you care for.’

15-17 “So I started in, talking. Before I’d spoken half a dozen sentences, the Holy Spirit fell on them just as he did on us the first time. I remembered Jesus’ words: ‘John baptized with water; you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ So I ask you: If God gave the same exact gift to them as to us when we believed in the Master Jesus Christ, how could I object to God?”
18 Hearing it all laid out like that, they quieted down. And then, as it sank in, they started praising God. “It’s really happened! God has broken through to the other nations, opened them up to Life!”

Peter's conundrum wasn't about clean and unclean food.  I mean, as a Jewish man, yes, that was an issue, and that was radical enough.  But this vision was God's way of making the point that just as there's no such thing as clean and unclean food, there's no such thing as clean and unclean people.  Everyone is acceptable to God. God does not play favorites.

Yet, for some reason, there are some people that many churches still don't welcome.  They are deemed unworthy, or outsiders, because of the color of their skin, their disability, their citizenship status, their language, their sexual orientation or gender identity.  They are told that they're not welcome to fully participate in church life unless they believe the right doctrine, unless they're baptized, unless they're tithers, or unless they measure up in some other arbitrary way.  But the Bible's pretty clear that God plays no favorites.

So yesterday, I told the young woman that if I were the pastor of the church she's been attending, I'd tell her that if she's coming for the sake of community, she should keep coming.  That she shouldn't pretend to be something she's not, but if she enjoys playing the keyboard and contributing to the community in that way, she should continue to do so.  

Because, what would happen if I'd told her that she should stop playing, or stop attending, because her faith wasn't "good enough?"  I'd essentially have told her that she was an outsider.  Her partial interest would have turned to no interest at all--and worse than that, she would have felt hurt, rejected, and alienated.  

I believe that when Jesus hung on the cross, his arms were spread wide--not just in crucifixion, but in welcome.  "Come to me, ALL who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest," Jesus said.

So, I told her to come, encouraged her to stay, and hoped she'd share her gifts.  But I wonder...

What would you have said?






*The above conversation was real, but certain details have been changed to protect anonymity.