Fractured Saints - never beyond mending - a christian blog for the broken ones

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been reading Brett McCracken’s book Hipster Christianity. It’s a pretty good book overall, although I personally think Brett could have done more research for the chapter on the emerging church. And he does suggest that social justice is just another fad. But Brett does bring up some good points.

For example, near the end he explains the differences between authentic Christian cool and being a self-righteous hipster jerk. Hipsters, as Brett explains, are all about individualism. Everything they do is a self-conscious attempt to be better and cooler than the average square (do people still say “square?”). Jesus, on the other hand, calls us to be other-centered instead of self-centered. He’s less concerned about how “cool” you are than how loving you are. Jesus says the world will know we are His disciples if we love one another, not our Macbooks or our TOMS shoes or our iPods full of Sufjan Stevens tunes (all of which I own, by the way).

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I can be a hipster snob. I’m not one of those kinds of people who want all eyes on them, like Paris Hilton and Michaela Salahi. But I don’t want to fade into the background, either, so sometimes I consciously pick out clothes that I hope will make people think, “Wow, that guy’s cool!” But why should be so concerned about looking cool, when I’m supposed to show God’s love before anything else?

Of course, there’s the other extreme, and that’s getting so wrapped up with church culture that we don’t know how to communicate the Gospel to our peers.

I think the thing to remember is balance. Paul often used culture to help preach the Gospel (1 Corinthians 9:19-23), so I don’t think it’s wise to completely divorce ourselves from culture. I love my Macbook, TOMS shoes, and Sufjan Stevens records just as much as the next guy. However, at the end of the day I don’t serve those things. My main job is to love Jesus and love others, period.

Is it just me, or can Christians be sort of cliquish sometimes? I’ve noticed that if you identify yourself as a particular kind of Christian, you can only surround yourself with people and things associated with that identity. It’s like high school all over again.

Take for example the Emergent Christians and the Reformed Christians. If you check the bookshelves of any of my Emergent Christian peers, chances are you will see the same authors: Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, Tony Jones, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Jim Wallis, N.T. Wright, John Howard Yoder, and Shane Claiborne. Chances are emergent Christians listen to podcasts like The Nick and Josh Podcast, Something Beautiful (at least I hope they do!), Losing My Religion, and Homebrewed Christianity. The Reformed crowd, on the other hand, usually has these authors on their bookshelves: John Calvin, John Piper, Jonathan Edwards, R.C. Sproul, and Charles Spurgeon. They tend to subscribe to Mark Driscoll’s sermon podcast, and listen to Derek Webb. You won’t catch an Emergent reading John Piper, or a Reformed Christian reading N.T. Wright. They do, however, agree on two things: the prosperity gospel sucks, and Derek Webb is awesome. Other than that, they tend to stay on their own respective pews, occasionally maybe smiling at each other for a brief second.

Well, I happen to like both John Howard Yoder and Jonathan Edwards. Both Brian McLaren and Mark Driscoll have influenced my faith.

A few months ago on my blog, I said that the Emerging Church should avoid echo chambers and include other points of view in the conversation. Likewise, I think the Reformed Christians can learn a lot from the Emerging Christians. If we don’t listen to other points of view, how can we grow?

As you may have heard by now, Anne Rice recently announced on her Facebook that she is finished with Christianity. Here’s what she has to say about it:

She still, however, says she remains “committed to Christ.” Rice is just done with the religion of Christianity. And I can certainly understand where she’s coming from.

When I read the words of Christ, my heart overflows with hope. Here’s Jesus, God as man, going to the broken, downtrodden, outcast people and saying that the Kingdom of God is for them. Here’s Jesus preaching a way of living that’s a complete 180 from the ways of the world. Here’s Jesus laying down His very life so that the broken can be healed, and the outcast can enter God’s Kingdom. Jesus makes me want to leave everything behind, and follow Him.

Now, when I compare all that with the way Christians act sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what went wrong. How did we go from “He lives by the sword dies by the sword” to “Let’s take out Hugo Chavez?” Why is the Prosperity Gospel still popular even though the Bible says the love of money is the root of all evil? Why do some Christians spend so much energy preventing gay couples from marrying, yet turn a blind eye towards poverty?

A few weeks ago I had a faith crisis. I didn’t know what I believed in anymore. I still loved Jesus, but I became fed up with religion. So I had to sort of forget about anything anyone had ever taught me about God, and read the Bible for myself. And the funny thing is my faith suddenly grew! Jesus became real to me again. So maybe we all need to leave religion behind in order to find true faith.

I love being cheap. I love it when people give me gift cards for Christmas. I love finding coupons for either Ruby Tuesday or Olive Garden in the Sunday papers. And I love shopping at Goodwill, and browsing through the local library’s used book section. It’s amazing what kind of stuff you can find for only five bucks!

I do, however, make an exception on some things. For example, when I buy coffee grounds I get the fair trade stuff, even though it costs more than the regular coffee. People often say to me, “You’re paying way too much! You need to get the cheaper stuff.” That’s usually when I get on my spiel about how major corporations exploit humble farmers, and how the middle man takes all the money. I figure if my money is going to help workers feed their families, I don’t mind paying a little extra.

I mention all this because lately I’ve been thinking about what Dietrich Bonhoeffer said about cheap grace verses costly grace. Bonhoeffer described cheap grace as “the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline. Communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ.” Costly grace, on the other hand, “confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus, it comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. It is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: ‘My yoke is easy and my burden is light.’”

And if I can be perfectly honest, cheap grace is much easier. You don’t have to worry about changing your lifestyle or thinking about other people. You can just walk around with your head held high because you know you’re forgiven, so you’re free to do whatever you want. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. I mean, yes, salvation is a gift and not something you earn, don’t get me wrong. But as Romans chapter 6 tells us, we are dead to sin and given a new life in Jesus.

For me, it’s easy to fall for cheap grace because I keep thinking that following Jesus will be a huge burden. While it’s not always easy, it’s far from burdensome, because Jesus already did the dirty work: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

It’s good to be cheap, except when it comes to certain things . . . like grace.

In Evolving in Monkey Town, Rachel Held Evans talks about “living the questions,” which is something she picked up from a Rilke quote: “Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question.” For Rachel, this means learning how to ask questions, and how to be patient when the answers don’t come easy.

Which is something I often struggle with. Sometimes I get tired of the whole “learning process.” I wrestle with Scripture the way Jacob wrestled with the angel; I’m pinning God to the ground with all my strength demanding Him to bless me.

But lately I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m approaching the Word of God the wrong way. Instead of pinning God to the ground demanding answers, maybe true faith is a journey with the Bible as my map. Maybe the point of studying the Word is to enter into the wonder and mystery of God, to explore the new places the passages lead me, to start conversations with the people I meet along the way, to ask questions when the directions aren’t clear, and to eventually arrive at my destination–revelation.

Of course it’ll probably take a while for me to reach my destination. But in the meantime, I’m learning to be content with living the questions.

Whenever I hear some one quote Matthew 26:11–”You will always have the poor among you . . . “–it’s usually when some one doesn’t want to talk about fighting poverty. If Jesus said we would always have poor people among us, then why try to fight poverty? Why not just write a check to a charity?

Is this what Jesus really meant? Let’s look at the text in context:

“Meanwhile, Jesus was in Bethany at the home of Simon, a man who had leprosy. During supper, a woman came in with a beautiful jar of expensive perfume and poured it over his head. The disciples were indignant when they saw this. ‘What a waste of money,’ they said. ‘She could have sold it for a fortune and given the money to the poor.’

But Jesus replied, ‘Why berate her for doing such a good thing to me? You will always have the poor among you, but I will not be here with you much longer. She has poured this perfume on me to prepare my body for burial. I assure you, wherever the Good News is preached throughout the world, this woman’s deed will be talked about in her memory.’”–Matthew 26:11

So Jesus and His followers are dining at Simon the ex-leper’s house, when out of the blue this strange woman comes up and starts pouring top-quality perfume over Jesus’ head. The disciples, once again, don’t understand what’s going on, so they say she could have sold the perfume and given that money to the poor. And that’s when Jesus says, “You will always have the poor among you, but I will not be here with you much longer.”

Jesus isn’t rebuking the disciples for wanting to help the poor, but because they didn’t understand that Jesus was about to die.

As the book of Ecclesiastes says, there is a time and place for everything. And I think this passages in Matthew 26 is trying to say there is a time to go out and serve the poor, and then there’s a time to spend it with Jesus–especially at that particular moment when He was about to be arrested.

It’s interesting to note that this isn’t the first place the Bible says we will always have poor people. According to Deuteronomy 15:11, “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land.” So perhaps Jesus was referring to this verse when he told the disciples, “You will always have the poor among you.”

So there you have it: Jesus isn’t saying, “Don’t bother fighting for poverty.” He’s saying, “There’s a time for charity and social justice, but right now it’s that time.” Got it?

If I may be frank, for the past couple of weeks depression’s been kicking my ass big time. I don’t want to get into the details, but during this rough period God has felt far away. When I cry out for help, I hear nothing. It made me wonder if perhaps the past ten years of following Jesus had been just a waste of time.

The other night, however, I picked up my pocket-sized Gideons Bible and skimmed through the “Where to find help when . . . ” section in the front. I looked up Depressed and flipped to Psalm 34: “I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.” (V. 4) Then I looked up Faith fails and came across Psalm 42:5–”Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”

Needing peace: John 16:33–”I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Weary: Matthew 11:28–”Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

And as I skimmed through Scripture, two words kept popping up in my head: Follow Me. Maybe it was that still small voice, or maybe it was just the wine talking (I drank two glasses before I picked up my Bible). But the next morning I still couldn’t get those two words–Follow Me–out of my head. “But I don’t have my crap together,” I thought. Then I remembered that neither did Jesus’ original disciples.

One of my favorite passages is Matthew 28:16-18. The disciples meet the resurrected Jesus on the mountaintop. “When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.” It’s interested to point out that the text does not say, “Some worshiped, but some doubted.” Nope. It says, “They worshiped Him, but some doubted.” In other words, among the throngs of worshipers, there were some that wondered if it was all true. Does Jesus reject the doubters. Nope! Instead He reassures them by saying, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations. . . And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

So that’s where I am right now: a doubting worshiper. And I’m fine with it, because I think Jesus’ grace is bigger than my doubts.

If you’ve ever seen the TV show The X Files you probably remember a post Mulder had in his office that had a picture of a UFO, and underneath were the words, “I want to believe.”

That’s how I am when I go through periods of doubt. I want to believe, but I’m not sure if I can. I’ll read something that challenges the doctrines I cling onto so tightly, and then I go through a “dark night of the soul” period where I don’t know what I believe in anymore. Were the past ten years of following Jesus just a waste of time? Was I better off as a nonbeliever?

Last week while I was on my blogging break, I asked some friends what sustains their belief in God, and I got some pretty good feedback. One person said, “Jesus,” another said, “Creation,” and another said, “My community of believers.” Those three answers stuck out the most, because those are the same reasons why I haven’t completely abandoned God yet.

First, there’s Jesus. When I read about His ministry and His Kingdom, I can’t help but want to be a part of that. I want to see a world where human beings are reconciled with God and each other. The way of Jesus is so radical compared to the ways of this world: materialism, hatred, selfishness, greed, apathy, etc. It’s a new way of living I deeply desire.

Then there’s creation. Have you ever had some one give you a birthday gift that was so wonderful you took good care of it everyday, and every time you saw the gift it reminded you of the person who gave it to you? That’s how I feel when I see the stars, forests, and sea.

Finally there’s the community of saints. Sometimes God makes more sense to me when I hear what He’s doing in other people’s lives. For example, last week I interviewed Brandt Russo for Coffee Chats. He spent a lot of the time talking about how God’s grace helped him recover from pornography addiction. While Brandt was telling his story, I felt like God was nudging me saying, “See? I told you I make all things new.”

Maybe during those moments of doubt, I’m not losing my faith in God, but in absolute certainty. It’s been said that the opposite of faith is certainty, so maybe if I stop clinging onto doctrines so tightly I can leave more room for God in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in the Nicene and Apostles Creeds. However, I approach faith now as a student willing to learn, rather than a professor with everything perfectly defined in hundreds of volumes on my shelf.

(Wow, nice metaphor!)

Like the man with the sick son, I’m praying, “Help my unbelief.”

John Piper – Make War

When I first came across this video, I was a little uneasy. Being Mr. Nonviolence, I was like, “Say what now?” But when I pushed play, I learned that John Piper here is NOT talking about declaring war on others, but on ourselves.

Our addictions.

Our hatred toward others.

Our apathy towards injustice.

Our sinful nature.

“My greatest enemy is not Satan,” Piper says. “My greatest enemy is John Piper.”

Lately I’ve been thinking about this video and what it means. There’s definitely an battle within me, but mostly I don’t fight back. I just surrender and let the darkness take over. Then the darkness tortures me with guilt and shame.

I like to think of myself as a lover, not a fighter. But I think it’s time to get my war on.

How do I do this? I think the first step is actually another form of surrendering . . . but this time it’s surrendering to Jesus. I’m not strong enough to fight my sin on my own. I need to let the Holy Spirit do the fighting for me.

How do you make war?

Originally posted on my personal blog.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I try not to talk about politics much because:

1). I’m not educated enough to articulate my views in an intellectual manner, only short sarcastic remarks.

2). I end up getting into shouting matches with the Tea Party folks.

But there is also a third reason why I try not to talk about politics much: too often politics prevail over grace.

In politics it’s not enough to simply explain why your viewpoint and your agenda and your policies are better than the other guy; you have to drag your opponents through the proverbial mud. You have to paint your opponent as not just naive or misguided, but a subscriber to the deadliest ideology since fascism. You have to make people believe a vote for your opponent means a vote to let the bad guys take away your civil rights and human dignity.

And unfortunately, I’ve seen way too many self-described Christians let their politics prevail over speaking words of love and grace. To them, Christianity is no longer about looking after the widows and orphans (James 1:27), but tearing apart liberals, gays, Muslims, etc.

For example, La Shawn Barber. I know I got into some trouble for talking about her before, so I don’t want to say much (plus I’d be a total hypocrite if I tore her apart). But it does disturb me to see some one with such a heart for God use her words not to praise Him and build up others, but to tear apart liberals and anyone else she disagrees with.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times when we, as Christians, need to speak up against things that go against our values. And there are times when we need to gently correct one another. But the keyword here is gently. As the Bible says, “Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction.” (2 Timothy 4:2, emphasis mine) It’s so sad that there’s hardly any room for this left in politics.

And, yes, I am just as guilty as Barber. It’s hard for me to say this, but I sometimes use my words to tear people apart instead of building them up. I’ve used my tongue to praise my point of view instead of God. I love being right, even when I’m wrong. And anyone who knows me knows this is an ongoing struggle.

So here’s my question–is there a way to talk about politics in a loving, graceful manner? Can we forget our political affiliations long enough to act like Christians?