Category: Theological Thoughts

Many of us have grown up in environments where extra-biblical requirements were given as a way to please God. Now, no one in their right minds would assert that these were meritorious, but the end result of not doing X,Y, Z led inevitably to guilt and fear. “Did I read my Bible this morning? “Did I forget to pray?” “What now?” “Is God angry with me?” The long-term effect of this thinking has led many to abandon the faith. I don’t want to condemn the legalistic heritage that some of us grew up with (though it is worthy of criticism), but I do want to assert that there are alternative ways of contemplating Christian piety that does not leave you dry. We don’t want piety that abandons traditional habits of grace; we want a piety that learns to cultivate these habits in a grace-saturated world. We want a piety that is rich, diverse, and capable of drawing from God’s vast resources of strength and encouragement. We need to forsake legalism, but not to the wells of liberalism or atheism, but to the fountain of grace where the Gospel is given through an encouraging word, a phone call, a note of thanks, a text that edifies, a book that moves us, a story that awakens us, and a Christ that communes with us. If you find yourself in that guilt-ridden Christianity, don’t jump into the darkness, seek the light in traditions and people that are immersed in a life of freedom and thanksgiving.

I started blogging back in 2004 when “blogging” was barely a known word. I’ve had my years on Facebook & Twitter. I’ve been guilty of overzealous rhetoric, ad hominem attacks, and a fair share of over-intellectualization that edified my ego, but only added the stink to the rotting corpse of pride. I’d like to think I’ve grown over the years. I am no longer the eager theological student in college hoping to convert the world of my idiosyncracies. The funny thing is the people I tried to proselytize changed me instead. As Matt Damon would say, “How you like them apples?” This leads me to my point: Social media can be a great way to destroy your soul. I love the benefits of it, but I’ve seen far too much damage done in it. We need a good dose of soul-care before we condemn the souls of others (metaphorically speaking). We need good Christian piety to articulate healthy ideas about life and its implications. Pass on the faith. Share your faith. Articulate your faith. But don’t embarrass the faith by damaging Christ and his Church. Perform some social media introspection. Seek the wisdom of a pastor or a trusted friend to give you a perspective on your social media patterns. Over the years I have seen friendships ruined, accounts deleted, reputations damaged, and hypocrisy increase. This is a tool like any other. Use it wisely and it will provide some life and joy. Use it poorly and it will provide a few likes from people who use it as poorly as you do. Don’t sit in the seat of the scoffer on social media. Let social media draw the scoffers to the living Christ.

Have you pondered the catholicity of the classic hymns of the Church? They transcend denominations and cultural styles. The Doxology based on old 100th by French composer Louis Bourgeois is sung in virtually every tradition around the globe. When pastors start churches, do they consider whether what they sing will die in one generation or will continue after they die? Will my children’s children continue to sing what I have sung for over 30 years and what has been sung 500 years prior? Or will their music be so diametrically different that musical disintegration is inevitable? Is our music sung/composed with particular age groups in mind or do they easily reach mom, dad, grandpa, grandma? Some of us may not have grown up in liturgical traditions where rich hymnody is explored, but know that once you are in one you will be learning to sing for generations to come. When you ask to sing Psalm 23 at your funeral, your children and their children will sing Zion’s songs fervently, willingly, and gratefully.

The charge of hypocrisy and religiosity is usually hurled at athletes when they use God-talk on national television. Tim Tebow and others have suffered at the hands of the privatized religiosos for wearing his Jesus-ness on his body and actions. I assume that some of these players live double-lives. I am aware that the Olympian’s world is full of muscular displays of “mighty talk.” But I will take the bold declarations–over against the silence of many– of such men as beautiful expressions of a loyalty to a living Christ that the world needs to know and hear, even if their imperfections are known. I urge more athletes to wear their Christian identities in everything they do; to speak God-talk continually, boldly; in short, to utilize such occasions to give thanks to God, the Father and giver of life.
“It’s just an identity crisis. When my mind is on this [diving], and I’m thinking I’m defined by this, then my mind goes crazy. But we both know that our identity is in Christ…” -Boudia

Boudia and Johnson proclaim Christ on national TV after winning Olympic silver

There is a barrage of negative reactions when an evangelical pastor urges Christians to be in Church on Sundays. Over the years I have heard that I am legalistic, too Sabbatarian, that I need “to loosen up, after all, people need a break from church once-in-awhile,” and my personal favorite, “Pastor, you’re a spokesman for organized religion.” The one intriguing reality of all these responses is that none, and I say none! have ever offered a biblical rationale for why sporadic, infrequent, or ” I go when I feel like it” bears any resemblance to the Trinitarian faith. Of course, I have offered all sorts of caveats to Church attendance. I have said that there are dozens of reasons for not ordinarily attending church–sickness, baby delivery, recovering from surgery, snow, hail, hurricanes, tornadoes, the apocalypse, etc. But my point has always been that the Christian is ordinarily required–yes, REQUIRED–to be in Church on the Lord’s Day. I have written about this extensively, and even edited a book making this point, but the point remains: God wishes to renew you by calling you into his presence. To assert that a sporting event or some other mundane logic explains away your baptized and holy duty to be with God’s people and exalt his name is to trivialize the death and resurrection of Jesus who came to put together a broken humanity. Tomorrow you will be called by your Creator to worship and bow down before Him. What will you do? Come. Be fed. Be filled. Be whole.

God’s relationship to us has always been one of tenderness. We misunderstand this covenantal relationship when we phrase it in a meritorious sense. God rewards us not like an employer compensating our sales, but as a gracious Father pouring his affection on his little children. God is a loving Father. We come boldly because he boldly invites us. He is not anxious to punish his children, He is eager to reconcile his children to himself. Any view of God that detracts from his tender character only prolongs the absurdities of legalistic theology. While his relationship towards evil is insatiably different, in Christ there is no condemnation. As Calvin so eloquently observes: “God examines our works according to his tenderness, not his supreme right.”

My dear friend Rich Bledsoe is an authentic figure. I love him for his eccentricities. So I thought before I introduced him last night, I’d do it a bit differently:

There once was a man named Bledsoe

He hails from Colorado,

He is here with his liberal bravado.

 

His outlines are weird,

His lectures unclear,

But when he speaks we’re all ears.

 

He talks about sex,

He unravels the text,

Of sociologists unknown,

In them, the fear of God is shown.

 

Once again he is here,

We don’t know if it was for the beer,

Or the city he loves so dear.

 

He goes to AA,

The city officials say,

“The priest is here to pray.”

 

And in the end of the day,

When we’re all ready to lay,

He stays up a good part of the day,

 

He writes about politics,

He loves the metropolis,

It is in the city that he plays.

 

So tonight everyone,

As our speaker wonders what to say,

Let us all learn to convey,

Our appreciation to those who labor,

In the goal to savor,

The Gospel afresh in the midst of the dead.

Some of my brief explorations into simple poetry.

We have lost our ability to grieve. We see a national tragedy and our first reaction is to propose an agenda. We are all utilitarians: “How can this tragedy serve my cause?” We pragmatize pain and agony. The Hebrew Scriptures spoke of “when the time of mourning had ended…” In our case, the time of mourning never begins. Russell Moore is correct: “We become more concerned about protecting ourselves from one another’s political pronouncements than we do with mourning with those who mourn.” We have no developed liturgy of grief because we have no Psalmic sense. We politicize grief because politicizing things offer us a breath of fresh elitist air. We don’t grieve. We fight. We war. But when we fight and war without grieving we fight for a lost cause. Weep, then war. Pray, then prepare. Before culture war, we need culture piety.