"We limp in faith from the bed of our death, through the blood of the cross, to the the joy of Christ's resurrection". Robert Capon Farrar.
I watched a two-hour long documentary last night on the growth and teaching of the emergent church. The analysis was telling, not only in its accuracy with regards to where the likes of this phenomenon has departed from orthodox theology and practice, but equally, if unintentionally, as to why so many have made such an exit from mainstream Christianity. Amidst the sharp critique of some (not all) of those defining the painful declarations of de-constructive spirituality, was a clear adherence to the kind of theology which internally wounds the church as much as any external intrusion of alien (non-christian) approaches to God.
It's usually pretty easy to unmask teachings which present a God or faith which is contrary to the character and relationship of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to His handiwork, but what is equally, if not far more dangerous, is those welcomed within the very fold and ministry of the faith who are effectively tearing down the very core of God's redemptive work in Christ (justification by Grace alone through Faith alone) by a seeking to re-establish the place of the Law over and above the Gospel.
Sometimes this happens simply out of ignorance. I recently attended a service where a young student minister was preaching in such a fashion, that I don't think he was even really aware of what he was doing. It made my blood boil to hear it, but I know that there are others in that church who will work hard to take and keep people beyond such folly, so that is something (and quite rare right now), but watching the documentary made me realize afresh why it is that so many have been so scarred and bruised amidst Christianity- not by Christ, but by the church- that they have had to go elsewhere to try and find something better! The reason why such movements begin and grow is because of the great numbers of people who have gone to 'orthodox' churches and been thrashed again, and again, and again by nothing but a 'gospel' of law which has been emptied of the riches of Christ and God's unmerited mercy and love towards us.
When the Gospel is 'clipped' of this primary, essential message of the redemptive work of God in Christ, then all religious belief and practice becomes nothing more than our seeking to be valid before a god of our own making, and most certainly not the living God who justifies the wicked.
We can indeed become grieved when men profess a faith which denies Christ as seen in His own words or those of His Apostles and Prophets, and rightly so, but should we not be all the more deeply anguished when, in those very churches which deem themselves to be genuinely 'christian', the life-giving bread of the Gospel, the person, of Jesus Christ, is not broken and shared, but in truth withheld from the very souls which are there to feed upon Him - to meet with God with a broken and contrite heart and to eat of His grace in their time of need? Is that not the greatest evil of all - to leave men and women outside of that mercy and fellowship when that is why we are here... to hold out that word of life?
We simply cannot deal in many of our churches today with the manner of 'Lordship' evidenced in Christ Himself in the upper room at the last supper - removing His clothing and girding Himself in a towel (dressing Himself as a slave, as the Living Bible so succinctly puts it) to wash the feet of those who were His friends - those who, in spite of all the failings and denials, He loved totally, and would give His life to save just a few short hours later.
This gospel means we totally and entirely saved "not by our successes but in and through our failures... Our so-called 'successes' cannot be saved - they are nothing but suits of obsolete armor, ineffective moral and spiritual contraptions we have climbed into to avoid facing the thing which can save us - our totally naked vulnerability before Jesus, for it is the person He lives and dies for, not the suit we contrive to wear" (Farrar - Parables of Judgement).
Is this the God with whom we have to do in our Sunday services, our bible studies, our daily lives, because if we are not focused upon this God, seen in the incarnation and life of His only begotten Son, then we really have nothing to say - THAT is the reality.
The pain of the emergent church is great, but that is primarily because it shouts so loudly regarding the failure of mainline Christianity to 'speak' the truth in love, evidenced in God's reconciling work in Jesus Christ. Because of that failing, many of us who, miraculously still attend a church, know only too well of such wounding, and can only hope and pray that even as such bruised reeds and smoldering flaxes, we can seek to point to true grace in these days of such great need.
Sunday, 25 November 2012
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
Sola Christos
"One thing, and only one thing is necessary for Christian life, righteousness and freedom. That one thing is the living Word of God - the Gospel of Christ " (John 11:25). Martin Luther.
Happy Reformation Day!
Sunday, 28 October 2012
More?
"This parable insists that the kingdom enters the world at creation and that there is not, and never has been any 'unkingdomed' humanity anywhere in the world. For by, through, and with the very breath and waters that make and restore creation... in the mist that watered Eden, in the paschal blood upon doorposts, the Jordan waters and the flow from Christ's side on the cross, the river of life of the New Jerusalem is evidenced - the Word is indeed the yeast that leaves not one scrap of the world unleavened - He has always been hidden within creation".
Robert Farrar Capon on the Mustard seed & the Leaven.
I was recently reading C R Wiley's review (Modern Reformation magazine) of Alain de Botton's recent book, Religion for Atheists, which makes a mixture of astute and predictable observations of both contemporary Atheism and Christianity. What truly struck me in the review was both writers' focus upon what Wiley terms "Reformed aesthetics", or more precisely, the lack thereof.
Since my childhood, I've been drawn to the power of 'picturing' the wonderful, be it Tom's magical garden, or the snow-covered woods of Narnia. When I was fourteen, my art teacher introduced me to the Tate Gallery in London, and I spent an amazing afternoon amidst the Pre Raphaelites. In the mid-90's , I can also recall a truly wonderful visit to London's V&A and being enthralled in the renaissance sculpture gallery. These are just a few select moments of many where the visual has enthralled, inspired and informed my own life and fed my soul.
Painting such images - using the visual to speak loudly of the spiritual in life - is not alien to our faith - far from it. The Old Testament and the Gospels, as well as Revelation, are full of images from history, and equally in poetry and parable that are provided to convey some key truths to us about the spiritual within the material, so where are such manner of illustrations in our modern culture?
Contemporary artists of all stripes around us are not afraid to tap this rich resource. Some of the best movies, shows and books of our times readily access the themes of human nature and the need for redemption in many of their major themes, and yet the church often seems strangely removed from such potent inter-action. Are we meant to be the advocates of the bland, the mediocre, the ugly? Shouldn't we be using the visually striking to stand up and say "do you see that? Do you understand what that implies?"
In the work of Creation, the very first element that is brought to bear upon the crude, unfurnished mass of the heavens and earth by the Word is light, for this brings clarity and allows an understanding and an adornment of the universe that is satisfying and inspiring. The work of God is to allow to us to see His hand in Christ within life if we genuinely look for this. If we are children of His mercies, then surely, our art (speaking, painting, writing) can do no less.
Robert Farrar Capon on the Mustard seed & the Leaven.
I was recently reading C R Wiley's review (Modern Reformation magazine) of Alain de Botton's recent book, Religion for Atheists, which makes a mixture of astute and predictable observations of both contemporary Atheism and Christianity. What truly struck me in the review was both writers' focus upon what Wiley terms "Reformed aesthetics", or more precisely, the lack thereof.
Since my childhood, I've been drawn to the power of 'picturing' the wonderful, be it Tom's magical garden, or the snow-covered woods of Narnia. When I was fourteen, my art teacher introduced me to the Tate Gallery in London, and I spent an amazing afternoon amidst the Pre Raphaelites. In the mid-90's , I can also recall a truly wonderful visit to London's V&A and being enthralled in the renaissance sculpture gallery. These are just a few select moments of many where the visual has enthralled, inspired and informed my own life and fed my soul.
Painting such images - using the visual to speak loudly of the spiritual in life - is not alien to our faith - far from it. The Old Testament and the Gospels, as well as Revelation, are full of images from history, and equally in poetry and parable that are provided to convey some key truths to us about the spiritual within the material, so where are such manner of illustrations in our modern culture?
Contemporary artists of all stripes around us are not afraid to tap this rich resource. Some of the best movies, shows and books of our times readily access the themes of human nature and the need for redemption in many of their major themes, and yet the church often seems strangely removed from such potent inter-action. Are we meant to be the advocates of the bland, the mediocre, the ugly? Shouldn't we be using the visually striking to stand up and say "do you see that? Do you understand what that implies?"
In the work of Creation, the very first element that is brought to bear upon the crude, unfurnished mass of the heavens and earth by the Word is light, for this brings clarity and allows an understanding and an adornment of the universe that is satisfying and inspiring. The work of God is to allow to us to see His hand in Christ within life if we genuinely look for this. If we are children of His mercies, then surely, our art (speaking, painting, writing) can do no less.
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Thinking Aloud...
I'm very thankful to my friend, Steve Clement, for this link. There are a whole range of papers here on Christianity's relationship to key issues facing us today, so well worth a visit. I particularly enjoyed Stephen Meyer's robust paper on why theism is still at the very heart of understanding what science is telling us about the nature of reality.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
The right direction.
The first thing we need to do when opening a New Testament letter is understand who it's seeking to address, and why. Alden's new innings of discussions on Christians and the Law does so on one of the essential pieces of the scriptures - The Book of Romans.
you can read this introductory study for yourself here.
I'm already thirsty for more!
you can read this introductory study for yourself here.
I'm already thirsty for more!
Monday, 10 September 2012
The New Day
"I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence".
A Tale of Two Cities, Quoted by Jim Gordon in The Dark Knight Rises.
I had a shock in church last night.
We were singing John Newton's Amazing Grace, which had suddenly 'grown' a chorus (which was fine), and a new final verse, which really wasn't.
The lyrics talked about the earth 'melting away like snow' - "The earth shall soon dissolve like snow". Now I know Peter talks about the refining of creation at the end of the age (Greek: kainos, meaning renewal, not neos, meaning brand new) - change that will reform everything, even the very elements - but the end of the material creation is certainly not what's planned here, so why are we happy to sing lyrics which speak about the world being "dissolved"? Why are we still, so often, thinking of the eternal as something less not more real than what we currently know?
In Psalm 93, the Majesty and splendor of the Lord and His throne is married to the establishment and permanence of the earth, which 'shall not be moved' (verse 1). Since the moment God formed this realm through the going forth of His Word and the nurturing of His Spirit, He has had one goal in mind - to dress and beautify creation, through His Son and those who are His kin with the great delight and refreshment God Himself knew on the seventh day, when He sanctified His work and resided within it. The great yearning of all creation, notes Paul in Romans 8, is to escape the futility now imposed upon it because of our rebellion and to live again in the weight and significance of what was and what shall be - that is the great and precious promise God has made to us - "I will never destroy every living thing".
The earth is the Lord's - everything in it is His, made to express and reflect His glory; a living, breathing work of art and beauty, that, in the ages to come, will truly and entirely "sing" of that wonder.
I couldn't sing the new added words to Newton's hymn, but instead, recalled the final verse that I've always sung before: "When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we've no less days to sing God's praise, than when we first begun". The New Jerusalem is on its way, adorned and radiant, from heaven to earth - there we shall truly enjoy and exult the Lamb, forever!
When He renews the land and sky,
All heav'n will sing and earth reply
With one resplendent theme: The glories of our God and King!
from 'Creation Sings' by Keith & Kristen Getty.
A Tale of Two Cities, Quoted by Jim Gordon in The Dark Knight Rises.
I had a shock in church last night.
We were singing John Newton's Amazing Grace, which had suddenly 'grown' a chorus (which was fine), and a new final verse, which really wasn't.
The lyrics talked about the earth 'melting away like snow' - "The earth shall soon dissolve like snow". Now I know Peter talks about the refining of creation at the end of the age (Greek: kainos, meaning renewal, not neos, meaning brand new) - change that will reform everything, even the very elements - but the end of the material creation is certainly not what's planned here, so why are we happy to sing lyrics which speak about the world being "dissolved"? Why are we still, so often, thinking of the eternal as something less not more real than what we currently know?
In Psalm 93, the Majesty and splendor of the Lord and His throne is married to the establishment and permanence of the earth, which 'shall not be moved' (verse 1). Since the moment God formed this realm through the going forth of His Word and the nurturing of His Spirit, He has had one goal in mind - to dress and beautify creation, through His Son and those who are His kin with the great delight and refreshment God Himself knew on the seventh day, when He sanctified His work and resided within it. The great yearning of all creation, notes Paul in Romans 8, is to escape the futility now imposed upon it because of our rebellion and to live again in the weight and significance of what was and what shall be - that is the great and precious promise God has made to us - "I will never destroy every living thing".
The earth is the Lord's - everything in it is His, made to express and reflect His glory; a living, breathing work of art and beauty, that, in the ages to come, will truly and entirely "sing" of that wonder.
I couldn't sing the new added words to Newton's hymn, but instead, recalled the final verse that I've always sung before: "When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we've no less days to sing God's praise, than when we first begun". The New Jerusalem is on its way, adorned and radiant, from heaven to earth - there we shall truly enjoy and exult the Lamb, forever!
When He renews the land and sky,
All heav'n will sing and earth reply
With one resplendent theme: The glories of our God and King!
from 'Creation Sings' by Keith & Kristen Getty.
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Confession
"If we confess our sins, then He is faithful and just to us, and will forgive us, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness". 1 John 1:9.
It's been interesting being back in a church these past few months, going through a set service of prayers and thanksgiving before the ministry of the word, especially focusing upon our need for grace at the end of what is often difficult weeks.
The aim here is actually very simple. It's to bring us back to the focal-point of our faith... to allow us to see once again what Christ has done and what that means for us as we face the realities of a life which can often seem so far from God and what He intends.
Some people 'read' all this the wrong way round. They take the verse I've quoted above as a pretext for believing that it is their action (in confession and repentance) that is the thing of value, and not the essential work of Christ alone, that this is meant to bring us to, which counts. It's a tragic mistake, because it means that being right with God becomes dependent upon what we say and do, not what He has already accomplished.
Robert Farrar Capon puts it like this:
"All real confession (that is not just a fudging of our own crooked books) is subsequent to forgiveness. Only when, like the prodigal, we are finally confronted with the unqualified gift of someone who died*, in advance, to forgive us, no matter what, can we see that confession has nothing to do with getting ourselves forgiven. Confession is not a transaction, not a negotiation in order to secure forgiveness; it is the 'after' - the last gasp of the corpse (us) - our finally accepting we're dead and accepting His resurrection.
Forgiveness surrounds us...
we only confess to wake ourselves to what we already have".
(Parables of Grace).
It's our realizing that what was ours in the moment He saved us on the cross makes us forgiven 'before, during and after' our sins, because all of this is resolved solely because there is a forgiver, who has acted to forgive, freely and completely, and we are buried and raised into that in our union (baptism) with Christ.
The entire aim is reconciliation, and our moments of confession are to lead us to the one who has brought that peace through the blood of His cross.
so go and call your neighbor
proceed with all due haste
go grab your wife and sweet family
see there is no time to waste
we're gonna drink out of that fountain
on a hill called double cure
i wanna show you my allegiance Lord
yes i wanna be a son of Yours
ask me why i love Him
He gave riches to this poor
yes and i will one day see that face
over yonder shore
Lyrics from 'Double Cure' by Vigilantes of Love.
(*Most of us don't see a 'death' in this parable, aside from the fatted calf, but as Capon shows, there are several - his book is worth reading just for the insights here, but there are many more).
It's been interesting being back in a church these past few months, going through a set service of prayers and thanksgiving before the ministry of the word, especially focusing upon our need for grace at the end of what is often difficult weeks.
The aim here is actually very simple. It's to bring us back to the focal-point of our faith... to allow us to see once again what Christ has done and what that means for us as we face the realities of a life which can often seem so far from God and what He intends.
Some people 'read' all this the wrong way round. They take the verse I've quoted above as a pretext for believing that it is their action (in confession and repentance) that is the thing of value, and not the essential work of Christ alone, that this is meant to bring us to, which counts. It's a tragic mistake, because it means that being right with God becomes dependent upon what we say and do, not what He has already accomplished.
Robert Farrar Capon puts it like this:
"All real confession (that is not just a fudging of our own crooked books) is subsequent to forgiveness. Only when, like the prodigal, we are finally confronted with the unqualified gift of someone who died*, in advance, to forgive us, no matter what, can we see that confession has nothing to do with getting ourselves forgiven. Confession is not a transaction, not a negotiation in order to secure forgiveness; it is the 'after' - the last gasp of the corpse (us) - our finally accepting we're dead and accepting His resurrection.
Forgiveness surrounds us...
we only confess to wake ourselves to what we already have".
(Parables of Grace).
It's our realizing that what was ours in the moment He saved us on the cross makes us forgiven 'before, during and after' our sins, because all of this is resolved solely because there is a forgiver, who has acted to forgive, freely and completely, and we are buried and raised into that in our union (baptism) with Christ.
The entire aim is reconciliation, and our moments of confession are to lead us to the one who has brought that peace through the blood of His cross.
so go and call your neighbor
proceed with all due haste
go grab your wife and sweet family
see there is no time to waste
we're gonna drink out of that fountain
on a hill called double cure
i wanna show you my allegiance Lord
yes i wanna be a son of Yours
ask me why i love Him
He gave riches to this poor
yes and i will one day see that face
over yonder shore
Lyrics from 'Double Cure' by Vigilantes of Love.
(*Most of us don't see a 'death' in this parable, aside from the fatted calf, but as Capon shows, there are several - his book is worth reading just for the insights here, but there are many more).
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