Gopnik identifies a central theme to Chesterton's life and work in a chapter in Chesterton's autobiography titled "The Man with the Golden Key." In that chapter, Chesterton describes a scene from his childhood watching toy theater puppet shows. He is still young enough to believe in the fiction of the puppet show and just old enough to know it is also an illusion. As Gopnik writes, "Chesterton's point is that childhood is not a time of illusion but a time when illusion and fact exist (as they should) at the same level of consciousness, when the story and the world are equally numinous."

Chesterton hints at this blurring of fact and fantasy, and makes a "case for the romance of everyday existence" to borrow Gopnik's words, in his essay, "On Running After One's Hat":

Most of the inconveniences that make men swear or women cry are really sentimental or imaginative inconveniences -- things altogether of the mind. For instance, we often hear grown-up people complaining of having to hang about a railway station and wait for a train. Did you ever hear a small boy complain of having to hang about a railway station and wait for a train? No; for to him to be inside a railway station is to be inside a cavern of wonder and a palace of poetical pleasures. Because to him the red light and the green light on the signal are like a new sun and a new moon. Because to him when the wooden arm of the signal falls down suddenly, it is as if a great king had thrown down his staff as a signal and started a shrieking tournament of trains. I myself am of little boys' habit in this manner. They also serve who only stand and wait for the two fifteen.

Later in the essay, Chesterton mentions a friend who is aggravated daily by a stubborn drawer that will not open smoothly. Chesterton admonishes him to reframe his understanding by refraining from the assumption that, every day, "the drawer could, should, and would come out easily." Instead, Chesterton tells him to imagine that every battle with this drawer is like "a tug-of-war between French and English," an epic contest requiring all of his friend's wits and perserverance. He concludes,

I have no doubt that every day of his life he hangs on to the handle of that drawer with a flushed face and eyes bright with battle, uttering encouraging shouts to himself, and seeming to hear all round him the roar of an applauding ring. ... An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.

The brilliance of this insight is almost so commonplace as to be overlooked, as every one of us is prone to do on a daily basis. We all know people for whom an inconvenience is no adventure at all, and life nothing more than a utilitarian exercise where mystery is a fancy. We have all seen the driver thrown into a rage by the oblivious senior who yields when there is no yield sign, or the co-worker whose entire day is ruined because a copier/computer/fill-in-the-blank is being uncooperative, and said co-worker just knew it would be so today, knew it in his bones, and carries on with an aggrieved spirit that colors everyone and everything around him. We know these people because, if we're not attentive, we are them too.  

---------------

I was introduced to The Man Who Was Thursday by Chris Cooke, who described it as one of his all-time favorites. The charm of the book for me, aside from Chesterton's prose and the scenes of elephant chases, jousting, and pursuit by hot air balloon, is how deeply philosophical it is beneath its pulpy surface. The man who is Thursday, Gregory Syme, is a poet who becomes a policeman in order to fight a society of anarchists. Syme, once embedded inside the society, is named Thursday. The others are all named after days of the week. Sunday is the dreaded chief: elusive, terrifying, and mysterious even after he removes his mask in the final pages.

The paradox of fact and fiction, reality and fantasy side-by-side and sometimes existing within the other, runs throughout the book. There is the artifice of the story, where no one is quite who he seems. (The reader catches on to this as more and more of the secret agents are revealed.) And yet the story is utterly convincing; Thursday's pseudo-life as a double agent becomes a more pressing and urgent reality than the life he knew before he went undercover. Gopnik writes, "[Chesterton] recaptures a childhood sense of what it feels like to be frightened by a nothing that is still a something, and by the sense that ordinary things hold intimations of another world."

Chesterton wrote The Man Who Was Thursday as he was wrestling with the Book of Job. The battle between anarchy and order, good and evil -- and the (sometimes interchangeable) faces they wear -- echoes Job's existential crisis with a God whose ways are inscrutable. Just as the Voice in the Whirlwind points Job toward hints of God's existence and providence over all creation, Chesterton's book is sprinkled with these same intimations of holiness in a world verging on chaos.

The great achievement of The Man Who Was Thursday, though, is its ability to capture the romance and adventure of everday faith, and while it can certainly be read as an allegory, it is a strange, bizarre sort of allegory that enlarges -- rather than reduces -- its themes of good and evil, and the role of faith to navigate between them. "Chesterton's conundrums of imagination and fact retain their grip on us," Gopnik writes,

because they remind us that we know two things. We know that we have our experience of a limited world. ... We also know that this experience doesn't feel limited, that it includes far more -- all of myth and religion and meaning, as the children's puppet theatre does. The desire for mystery and romance can't be argued out of importance, but it can't be willed into existence, either.

As with so much in life, faith is a paradox. It is the hope in things unseen which must thrive in a seen world. Chesterton's vision, unlike so many writers of faith, is not diminished by his fiction. It is compelling, challenging, hilarious, complicated and subversive. "Chesterton himself said that the modern age is characterized by a sadness that calls for a new kind of prophet," writes Philip Yancey in his own ode to Chesteron, "not like prophets of old who reminded people that they were going to die, but someone who would remind them they are not dead yet."

Here is an important post from my friends at CRN.Info and Analysis concerning the grace of God. The important part, however, is not necessarily in the post proper, but rather in the replies that it has generated so far. (26 as of this post.) I will explain in more detail below. First, let me set the stage by reviewing the post.

The post begins with the retelling of a story from Philip Yancey's book What's So Amazing About Grace? It's the story of a young woman who is deeply embroiled in prostitution who sells her 2 year old daughter because she makes good money doing so. Here's what happens next:

At last I asked if she had ever thought of going to a a church for help. I will never forget the look of pure, naïve shock that crossed her face. “Church!” She cried. “Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They’d just make me feel worse.”

Philip Yancey then writes:

“What struck me about my friend’s story is that prostitutes much like this woman fled toward Jesus, not away from him. The worse a person felt about herself, the more likely she saw Jesus as a refuge. Has the church lost that gift? Evidently the down-and-out, who flocked to Jesus when he lived on earth, no longer felt welcome among his followers. What has happened?

The author of the blog post, Joe Martino, rightly points out that this is exactly what has gone on in the church by noting what the church has become: Not a refuge for hurting people, but a miserable place where Christians thrive on destroying one another (as exemplified in the world of blogdom). The woman in Yancey's story is right: Why would anyone want to go to a place where the people there only make them feel worse. Churches are good at making people feel worse. We are really good at helping people 'comprehend their worse-ness.' Ironically, most people need very little help understanding the depth of their depravity.

The problem is that we construct churches nowadays so that they 'fit the neighborhood.' The neighborhood, sadly, is often a place in the suburbs, or a place where people of like feathers can gather in way-too-expensive buildings where all the latest amenities are present (ATM's, Coffee shops, McD's, etc). We Christians plant churches in comfortable neighborhoods where comfortable people can go and worship a comfortable God in a comfortable atmosphere along with other comfortable people. We necessarily exclude people like the prostitute in the story because there is no room for her in our comfortable world.

In other words, the churches we plant and the churches we are, are notplaces constructed for the hurting, the broken, the fragile. They are places constructed for the comfortable. (A shabbily dressed prostitute is unlikely to believe for a minute that she is welcome, let alone wanted, in the typical suburban mega-churchopolis; or in most churches for that matter.) We hope will remain comfortable because if they are uncomfortable they might not want to be a part of our club any more. But what if churches were places where the hurting people of this world knew they were not just welcomed but wanted? How would we accomplish such a thing? How would they know? What sort of preaching would they hear on Sundays, Saturdays, or any days?

Well, one person who responded to the post at CRN.Info demonstrates exactly what would not happen in a church where people, hurting people, knew they were wanted. Here's one one respondent wrote:

And the wonderful thing about this story is it is not about grace! Grace is not grace if we offer our broken approval and don’t tell the truth. [Where did the author offer broken approval?] Of course a sinner is going to feel lousy in the church if the law is preached and they come face to face with their sin. [Can't people come face to face with their sin by preaching grace? Why does a person need to feel lousy at church when they feel lousy every minute, of every day? Shouldn't 'church' be different?] Of course, we should do so seasoned with salt. But allowing an unrepentent [sic.] sinner to be locked in the chains of their sin without offering a way out is not love, nor is it grace. It is our broken attempt at empathy. [Uh, where did the author leave the sinner locked in chains?]

* * *

I fully understand what grace is. [No, you don't; no one does.] But no one can understand the depth of the grace of God until they understand the awful depth of their sin. [Yes, they can. They live it every day! They see it in the mirror, their empty pockets, their broken relationships, etc.] I see this prostitute as one who has a sorrow for the pain of her addiction, a sorrow for what she has to do to feed it, but not a godly sorrow that leads to repentance and trust in Jesus. [How do you know what she was feeling, were you there?]

* * *

I agree that the church is broken. I agree we need to be much more like Jesus. [When Jesus preached to the prostitute in John 8 he did not demand repentance. He simply said, 'go and sin no more.' But there is nothing implicit in that sentence that demands she 'repent' of her past sins, only, rather, that she guard herself from future sin.]  I don’t think we do this through compromise with sin, however. [No one does. No one did. This is a straw-man.] I think the church can do much better at reflecting the love of Jesus to a hurting world, while still communicating the truth of Gods Word. [Then we should teach grace, because, as you say, law cannot save us; it is a poor mirror at best.] We as individuals are called ambassadors, communicating the will of the King to a world that He died for. [Emphasis all mine.]

These quotes are from three different responses, all by the same author, but they faithfully convey the point this particular author is trying to make. He wrote, "But no one can understand the depth of the grace of God until they understand the awful depth of their sin." I'm curious about this comment because I think the author of it has inferred it, incorrectly, from Scripture but has not read it explicitly. But, and here's the point, how much more did this particular prostitute need to 'understand the awful depth of her sin'? She was living the awful depth of her sin! She understood it every minute she was awake. What she needed was the grace of God, what she needed was relief, what she needed was a balm, what she needed was a church--not in the sickening sense of a building with multi-purpose rooms and stackable chairs, but a people who shared in her hurt, suffered with her, carried her burden. 

No one would condone sin by offering her a way out of her sin. Sinners need to know not that they are so pathetically bad that all they can do is feel worse or understand they are worse than they already know. Sinners need to know there is a way out of their current situation; a different way; a better way; a Jesus Way. When Jesus healed the man named Legion, he didn't first sit down and explain to Legion the depths of his depravity or discourse on the Law and demonstrate how a holy God demands perfection. Jesus simply set the man free, then the man wanted to follow him. The woman at the well in John 4, again, no demand for repentance; just an offer of Grace. The apostle Paul: No demands; just grace. Now this is not to say that they did not repent. It is to say that grace has its own funny way about itself. In Luke 15, the Father demanded nothing of the prodigal son; only the older brother did. And we can see quite clearly in the parable whom Jesus takes the most offense at. The Father offered unconditional grace; the older brother did not. (Before I'm accused of not paying attention to the younger son's 'repentance', please carefully note in verse 20-24 the Father ignores the prepared speech the younger son gives in verse 21.)

The point of the original post is not that repentance isn't important or that preaching 'all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God' should be neglected. Rather I think the point is that the church never gets to that point because 'sinners' do not want to be a part of, or visit with, or be involved with Christians in a place where they see people ripping each other to shreds, people who are supposed to love one another deeply. In other words, how can the sinner trust the church when it says 'God's grace saves you' when it is clear to any thinking person that the church refuses to practice grace towards one another? Jesus said, "Love another. By this all men will know you are my disciples." Love one another he said. But we don't. We devour one another for sport. We destroy one another for pleasure. We devastate one another for utter delight and joy. This, I contend, is why people don't want to be a part of the church and why they believe the church makes them feel worse and further why they won't listen when we talk about sin.  Jesus may well have preached such things when he was at the dinner parties of 'sinners, tax-collectors,' and the like. But Jesus first had to find himself in the company of 'such people' before he did so.

Why did Jesus have to command us to love one another? Why did he have to command the one thing that should be the most natural to those saved by grace?

The replies I quoted above were written in response to Joe's post. The irony is this: Joe's post was confessional. He wrote:

And the whole time people who’s lives are being blown apart just keep on dying. They just keep on living the wrong way because Darn It, I AM RIGHT!!!   One camp  picks apart a person in the other camp because he doesn’t go far enough down the Theological trail with them. They may agree that one goes to Heaven by believing on the work on Christ but down the path they disagree so it’s Ok to tear each other apart. I wonder, does this make you as sick as it does me?

The second response in the thread is this:

Point the finger at this site, because you all are part of the problem, not part of the solution.

If you disbanded, it would be one less place that was spewing hate on the blogosphere towards brothers and sisters in Christ.

This is from the same person who wrote those three responses above. Implication: He is unwilling to admit that he, too, is part of the problem. Joe did this; Pastorboy did not. Do you see how Joe's point is proved in the very responses made by Pastorboy? What a sickening display, which is why I'm still awake at 1 AM writing this lengthy post exposing the ignorance of one who claims to understand grace: He doesn't. Grace does not point the finger at other people; it points the finger at the self. Grace does not admit the faults of others, but the faults of the self. Grace does not help other people realize their sins, it rejoices that it's own sins have been forgiven and delights to share the same with others. Grace needs no help tearing people apart that they may be set free. Grace makes no demands of us.

Still, the bottom line to the story is that woman's criticism of the church is dead on. Churches are so concerned about protecting their purity that they can do very little to involve themselves in the lives of broken people. All we do is rant and rave against all the big stuff while offering very little in the way of imparting God's healing grace in Christ to hurting and broken and shattered people.

There is a big difference between these two ideas, a difference, I suspect, that would make more sinners give their attention to God than there mere pointing out of how depraved they are. Instead of putting all the focus on humans and their depravity, why don't we instead put all the focus on Christ Jesus and His truly remarkable, amazing, incomprehensible grace. It seems to me that to do the former is to make church far more about 'me' than it should be; to do the latter is to keep the focus exactly where it should be: On Jesus.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Scot McKnight, the blogger at Jesus Creed and the author of Embracing Grace, describes the gospel as that which creates a "cycle of grace". Here are his words:

So, when I use "embracing grace" in this book, I am referring to the unleashing of an endless cycle of grace that can end what Philip Yancey calls the "cycle of ungrace" in our hearts and world. Here is the flow of grace:

God embraces you and me and
God embraces others and
God embraces the whole created order.

Then:

You and I embrace God back and
We embrace others and
We embrace the entire created order.

I tend to think that this is right. The story of God creating the world, Jesus entering into and saving the world (including us humans) through his death and resurrection is where this cycle begins and where it finds its energy to continue on through the ages. This "cycle of grace" is so central to what God is doing in the world that I want to do everything I can to a part of it, to get in on it, so to speak. If God really is behind it then there is probably nothing I, or anyone, can do to stop it but I sure want to be one of the many through whom it flows.

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::

You can find Embracing Grace here: Embracing Grace: A Gospel for All of Us

You can (and I really hope you do) listen to Scot McKnight here speak about The Whole Gospel

Muchas iglesias que se jactan de ser espirituales, dejan afuera a muchos por sus costumbres, por su condición social, por su apariencia externa.

Cuántos estarían dispuestos en alguna de estas “grandes” iglesias a recibir con amor y respeto (estimando al recién llegado como superior a sí mismo) a una prostituta, por ejemplo. A un homosexual. A un asesino. A un violador.

¿Lo haría sabiendo quién es y lo que ha hecho?

La respuesta será (obviamente) SIIIIIIIIII !!!

Pero la verdadera respuesta. La que el Señor espera, está a las puertas de las congregaciones.

Muchas de estas mega-iglesias, para no escandalizar a los asistentes, en el caso de que llegue algún ser “visualmente desagradable” se lo envía por la puerta de atrás, se le enseña el camino de salvación, se le da una palmadita en la espalda y… ¡cuando se bañe y esté perfumadito vuelva!

El Señor no buscaba la comodidad ni las grandes sinagogas. Él entraba en la casa de cualquiera, bebía vino (sí !!! bebía vino!!!), conversaba con prostitutas y con ladrones. Por eso se lo juzgaba como “un hombre comilón, y bebedor de vino, amigo de publicanos y de pecadores” (Mateo 11:19).

Ellos preferían a un Jesús apartado de esa “lacra”, a la cual ellos, en su altísima santidad, jamás se acercaban.

Pero una cosa es el pecado y otra cosa el pecador.

Piensa en tí mismo, lector. Y déjame plantearte una cosa interesante:
Tú pecas en reiteradas ocasiones. (1ª Juan 1:8 dice: “Si decimos que no tenemos pecado, nos engañamos a nosotros mismos, y la verdad no está en nosotros”).

Ahora bien, pides perdón y el Señor te cubre y te limpia.

Mientras no pides perdón estás en pecado. Quizá notas que has pecado luego de un tiempo, al ser alumbrado sobre algún aspecto que creías era la voluntad de Dios, y debes arrepentirte.

Mientras esto pasa, te alimentas, te higienizas, te vistes, te proteges…

Sabes que hay pecado en tí. Pero aún así te amas.

Aborreces ese pecado que hay en tí. Pero aún así, no tienes el más mínimo reparo en seguir alimentándote, visiténdote, protegiéndote.

¿Entiendes ahora la diferencia? Amas al pecador (que eres tú), pero aborreces el pecado que está en él (o sea en tí mismo).

Es un modo gráfico y sencillo de encontrar la forma de hacer lo mismo con el resto de los mortales que nos rodean. Con nuestro prójimo.

Mateo 22:39 dice: “Amarás a tu prójimo, como a tí mismo”.

O sea que deberás amar (alimentar, vestir y cuidar) a tu prójimo, aún cuando no lo consideres merecedor, del mismo modo que lo haces contigo mismo.

Que el Señor te bendiga !!!

""Why I Wish I Was an Alcoholic." It occurred to me that what recovering alcoholics confess every day—personal failure, and the daily need for grace and help from friends and a Higher Power—represent high hurdles for those of us who take pride in our independence and self-sufficiency."

Thanks to Dr. Wally for sharing this article with me.

          As a Christian, I find myself spiritually and ethically torn when it comes to the modern nation of Israel.  I fully believe God chose the people Israel and offered them a Promised Land.  I don't believe God would revoke such a promise, even when His children turn away.

          At the same time, I am not as certain as many other Christians that the nation/state Israel formed in 1948 was necessarily what God had in mind.  And, even if it was, I am even less certain that the terrain Israel claimed after the 1967 war was God's plan.

          Lately, I've been reading The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey. 

          Yancey takes a close look at the environment into which Jesus was born and tries to connect it with the world today.  Yancey poses the challenging question, "Who cannot help noticing the similar plights of Galilean Jews in Jesus' day and Palestinians in modern times?"

          Yancey picks up this quote from Malcolm Muggeridge, writing in the 1970s -

The role of the Roman legionnaires had been taken over by the Israeli army.  Now it was the Arabs who were in the position of a subject people; entitled, like the Jews in Jesus' lifetime, to attend their mosques and practise their religion, but otherwise treated like second-class citizens.

Both groups, modern Palestinians and Galilean Jews, also share a susceptibility to hotheads who would call them to armed revolt.  Think of the modern Middle East with all its violence, intrigues, and sqabbling parties.  Into such an incendiary environment, Jesus was born.

          I have no doubt that God chose the people Israel as His own children.  At times, however, I have grave doubts that the nation that bears the Biblical name Israel bears much a family resemblance to its Maker.

Later Yancey asks his friend to name the one quality missing in the local church that AA had somehow provided. “He stared at his cup of coffee for a long time, watching it go cold. I expected to hear a word like love or acceptance or, knowing him, perhaps anti-institutionalism. Instead, he said softly this one word: dependency.”

“None of us can make it on our own – isn’t that why Jesus came?” he explained. “Yet most church people give off a self-satisfied air of piety or superiority. I don’t sense them consciously leaning on God or each other. Their lives appear to be in order. An alcoholic who goes to church feels inferior and incomplete.” (p45)

No wonder who are failing to reach a post-modern generation who value authenticity, “being real” and openness and community above all. When the church fails to be who God has called it out to be, we force those who are hungering and thirsting to gorge themselves on the pseudo-relationships provided by Facebook, reality TV and blogging communities (a delicious irony I know!)

Here are some thoughts on grace. I just cannot believe, at times, how abundant God's grace is. Strangely enough, I think it is the church many times that is most afraid of this grace. My prayer is that the church will learn grace not only saves but that it empowers us to live freely. Too often the church condemns to hell those whom God has not condemned to hell. The church needs to recover the message of grace and soon or there will be no one left to enjoy what God has planned for those who love him, for those He will save through Christ.

There is a real sense in which grace is simply wasteful. That which is freely given can be abused, discarded, and rejected; grace can be scorned. The irony is that for some reason we are prone to reject that which we have no inherent claim to in the first place. It is the Lord who gets the bad end of this deal so to speak. Grace scarcely makes sense to the saved, much less the lost. Sadly, it is Christians, the very ones who are the beneficiaries of this saving grace, who misunderstand it the most. I am included.

I have been preaching now for roughly 13 years. I have a Bible college degree. I have been a Christian since I was 13. I have hardly missed a day of worship, a summer of church camp, or a day of Bible school since I was 5. Despite this remarkable list of credentials, I am not convinced that I had any inkling of what grace really means until about two months ago. It was there in plain sight yet I missed it. I have preached sermons about it. I have claimed to be saved by it. Yet for all this I was still oblivious. It was one thing to believe that I was saved by grace; however, it was something entirely different to believe that I continued to be saved by it. I always thought that God did the hard part and it was up to me to work it out with fear and trembling.

I call it salvation hokey-pokey. And it is terribly difficult to stay in.

The problem is that I do not believe the Enemy had any intention of allowing me to know what grace was let alone see it in is abundance, sufficient for salvation and sufficient for living. That is a fine game for him to play: keep people blind, oblivious, working, working, working. People who are so busy working out (earning) their salvation have very little time left to actually enjoy it let alone give praise to the one who qualifies them for it in Christ.. As such I did not even realize that I was trying to climb out of a hole that I could never climb out of. I was trying too hard and enjoying no rest. It is not easy constantly reminding oneself of their guilt and thrashing about inside that guilt trying to make amends that can never be made, trying to win approval already granted, trying to re-qualify for a race already qualified for on the basis of someone else’s effort. Sometimes it is much, much easier to live by rules and regulations than it is to live by grace. It is nearly impossible at times to believe that God is willing to continue loving me in spite of me or precisely because of me. In this sense, grace seems wasteful. Now I am beginning to understand Annie Dillard’s words, “Experiencing the present purely is being emptied and hollow; you catch grace as a man fills his cup under a waterfall.” (Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 82)

Needless to say, grace is now the prime-mover in my life. Whereas at one time grace was ‘there’, but not, now I cannot stop thinking about it. I see grace in places where I had not imagined it before. I keep finding myself talking about grace in sermons even when I had not planned on talking about grace. It is not nearly as difficult now to offer an invitation at the end of a sermon because now it doesn’t sound so formulaic, so contrived, so forced. Now invitations at the end, the beginning, or in the middle of a sermon are invitations not to a list of chores and a life of drudgery but rather to the freeing love of God both for salvation and being saved. Not only is this true, but even the manner in which I understand Scripture has changed. Again, I see grace where I had not seen it before.

Just this past weekend, I preached from Colossians 2:16-23. I took two extra weeks preparing for this sermon because I could not figure out what Paul was saying even if what he was saying was clear. The passage was not making sense until I remembered what Paul said at the beginning and end of the letter: Grace! (1:2, 4:18). It is rather simple to understand what Paul is saying in these verses (16-23) if they are approached with an understanding of grace: “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthen in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness” (2:6-7, NIV). More than one commentator suggested these are the ‘theme’ verses of the letter. Not ironically, then, Paul next writes, “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ” (2:8). This thought is continued in 2:16-23. His point, I believe, is that when we allow people to pile on us rule after rule after rule we are effectively and essentially declaring our independence from God’s grace. “These things are shadows…he has lost connection with the Head…they are destined to perish…they lack any value in restraining the flesh” (2:17, 19, 22, 23).

When we submit to those who impose such regulations we are declaring that Christ is not enough, that he is insufficient. This is not living in Christ as we received him. This is not living free. This is salvation by slavery which is no salvation at all. This passage, in my estimation, makes little sense apart from grace and 6 months ago it is likely I would have missed this altogether. In the grip of grace, preaching has taken on a whole new life, has a renewed stamina, and new vibrancy. Knowing and understanding grace has altered my objectives in preaching because preaching has taken on an entirely different meaning in light of grace.

Another aspect of my life that has been radically altered by grace is in my relationships with others. This has only just started working itself out in any tangible way, but this is of major importance in my work as a minister of Christ. In a word, I am free now to love without an agenda. Now I can be as much a giver of grace as a receiver. I can be free with everyone and demonstrate the same freeing grace that God has shown me. If grace happens to appear wasteful at the moment that is fine and presents no problems. I can love not because everyone is particularly lovable but because grace loves. Practically speaking, grace has not only freed me from judgment but it has freed me from judgmentalism and this, I should add, is as freeing as being set free. I did not even realize how judgmental I was until I learned that grace is not just for saving but also for living. People do not have to conform to my rules, my standards, my objectives in order for me to love them. My love for others is now proactive. It reaches out before being reached to. It is most remarkable being freed from the notion that others must live up to my standards of holiness and rightness in order to be considered God’s child. “Judging requires that you think yourself superior over the one you judge.” (William P Young, The Shack, 159) Colossians 2:16-23 taught me that if I am saved by grace, and so also everyone who is saved, then the only opinion of anyone that matters is that of Christ Jesus, and I am not Him.

There is an older couple who recently left the church I serve. Their departure has been terribly difficult for me because the rumor as to why they left evidently had something to do with the most recent church budget and a certain line that had something to do with my education expenses. I have put off visiting them for 4 months because I have had no idea what I should say and I did not want to say the wrong thing, and given the closeness of our relationship at one time and my typical prone-to-defensiveness, reactive nature, I was bound to say something wrong. What I have learned is that I can go to them without an agenda. I do not have to go and ‘win them back’ or ‘persuade them to return’. Nor do I have to think that they are somehow apostate because they have chosen to worship elsewhere—even if their reasons for doing so are strange. Instead, I can go to them and offer them my love regardless of the outcome of the conversation. I do not have to have a particular agenda in mind. I can love them, comfort them (the husband has cancer), encourage them, and pray for them. I can demonstrate grace because it does not matter if I am to blame or not. What matters is grace and it is grace that I will speak of when I visit them this week. “Let your conversations be always full of grace” (Colossians 4:6a).

I read a book last week called The Shack. This remarkable book contains a lot of dialogue, but one particularly short section near the end really rattled me.

“Mackenzie!” she chided, her words flowing with affection. “The Bible doesn’t teach you to follow rules. It is a picture of Jesus. While words may tell you what God is like and even what he may want from you, you cannot do any of it on your own. Life and living is in him and in no other. My goodness, you didn’t think you could live the righteousness of God on your own, did you?”

“Well, I thought so, sorta…” he said sheepishly. “But you gotta admit, rules and principles are simpler than relationships.”

“It is true that relationships are a whole lot messier than rules, but rules will never give you answers to the deep questions of the heart and they will never love you.” (William P Young, The Shack, 197-198 )

The hardest part of grace for me is God. I, after all, know exactly where I have been, what I have done, and those I have hurt. I know myself all too well and I figure that if I know myself this well then God can only know me better. What gets me is that he wants me to be saved. What gets me even more is that he went out of his way to make certain it was a reality. It is hard, very hard, unbelievably hard at times to think that not only do I not have to make up for my sins but that ultimately I cannot. If the enabling power of God’s grace has freed me to love people, and to preach graciously, how much more has it freed me from the guilt of sin? And yet it is this very guilt that I seem to be reluctant to let go of.

Yet there it is. Philip Yancey comments, “Grace means that no mistake we make in life disqualifies us from God’s love. It means that no person is beyond redemption, no human stain beyond cleansing…Grace is irrational, unfair, unjust and only makes sense if I believe in another world governed by a merciful God who always offers another chance…When the world sees grace in action, it falls silent.” (Philip Yancey, Rumors of Another World, 223) I think the reason why grace makes so much sense is because it makes no sense at all. “…God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to saved those who believe…we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Greeks” (1 Cor 1:21b, 23, NIV). This is what the world finds so difficult to believe. It is also what the church finds so difficult to believe. We thus end up worse than those ‘visitors’ in Colossae who piled rule after rule upon the church, worse than the Pharisees who in their haste to make disciples of law and order instead made children of hell, worse than the Judaizers in Galatia who insisted on a “Jesus…and” plan of salvation. I suspect this has, based on this evidence, always been a problem among those God calls.

I, no less than anyone else, struggle with grace. But I am learning. I am learning that God will not fail to finish in me the good work he began. The church needs to awaken to this message of God’s grace that is testified to abundantly in Scripture. Grace has taught me that God loves me and wants to save me. The question is whether I will let him do so or not, and on his terms. Grace may be difficult to understand. It may be wasteful by human standards. At the end of the day, however, we have nothing else to cling to. I am learning each day to trust that God loves me and His word to us in Christ that by grace we have been saved through faith. I am learning to trust that if in the course of writing a paper or a sermon I forget to capitalize all personal pronouns relating to God, he will not hate me and hold it over my head until I confess. I am learning that grace covers a multitude of sins. I am learning to trust Him for that which I cannot trust myself. Living free is far better than living in guilt. It frees me to love without an agenda. It frees me to be loved.

Annie Dillard wrote, “So many things have been shown me on these banks, so much light has illumined me by reflection here where the water comes down, that I can hardly believe that this grace never flags, that the pouring from ever renewable sources is endless, impartial, and free.” (Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 69)

Soli Deo Gloria!

     We see and hear so much of hell.  Just whatever happened to heaven?  Philip Yancey ponders this and many other questions in his book  I Was Just Wondering.  Yancey identifies three factors in our loss of heavenly thoughts.

First -  “Affluence has brought us in this life what former generations could only anticipate in heaven.“

Why dream of a heavenly hereafter when what you most want is in the here-and-now?  This isn’t to say we’re actually satisified with what we experience in this life, only that we delude ourselves into thinking that the best is not yet to come, but it’s here for the taking.

Second, writes Yancey - “A creeping paganism invites us to accept death as the culmination of life on earth, not as a violent transition into an ongoing life.”

Yancey cites death & dying expert Elizabeth Kubler-Ross.  The final stage is not one of preparation for something yet to be gained, but acceptance for something that has been or is about to be lost.

Third, Yancey says - “The older, biblical images of heaven have lost their appeal.”

Who wants to wear a white robe all day, play a harp and walk along streets of gold?  Can’t we do better than that?

Yancey finds hope for heaven in the modern world within the African-American faith community.

“If you want to hear newer, more relevant images of heaven, attend a few black funerals.  With characteristic eloquence, the preachers paint word pictures of a life so serene and sensuous that everyone in the congregation starts fidgeting to go there.”

One of the first funerals I ever attended was in a predominantly African-American church.  As I walked in, streams of mournful music played on the organ, accompanied by the sound of women wailers.  The casket, with the dead body prominently displayed, was placed just below the pulpit.

The grief-stricken sounds, however, soon blended in wonderful harmony with a beautiful baritone voice singing hopeful words from the Psalms.  As the service progressed, loud cries became triumphant shouts.   

The dead body was still in front of us, but we were transported to heaven.  If you closed your eyes, it was as if you were already there.  Even if you kept them open, the sight of this corpse wasn’t nearly as potent as the sight of the empty cross above it.

This is the greatest challenge for Christians living in a death-dealing culture.  Instead of giving them hell, go out there and ”give ‘em heaven.”

Don Carson's "A Call to Spiritual Reformation" and Philip Yancey's "Prayer" - different but complementary.

"What once was called ‘idolatry,' enlightened Westerners call ‘addictions.' Eventually an idol, or addiction, begins to control the devotee, rather than vice versa." (33)

In the modern United States, at least, the seven deadly sins might be renamed the seven seductive virtues (105-106):

1. Pride: In music, sports, and business, we reserve our applause for winners, and those who flaunt it with an attitude tend to garner the most publicity.
2. Envy: Our entire advertising industry is built on inciting envy of colleagues and neighbors....
3. Anger: We must get in touch with and express our anger, counselors tell us....
4. Greed: The economic engine of our nation, and indeed the world, depends on a constant sense of discontent....
5. Sloth: find an island with a beach, retire early, relax, slow down, feel good-it's all part of the American dream.
6. Gluttony: Every year the ‘big gulp' drinks and supersize French fries get bigger, as do the waistlines...
7. Lust: From Lycra-clad professional cheerleaders to dancing babes on MTV videos, lust is ubiquitous...

Rumors of another World 

What I found most insightful is that Yancey finds more evidence for a world beyond ours on account of evil than he does on account of goodness.  The fact that we all get the impression that things have gone wrong tells us there must be something better we started with, and possibly something better we could head towards.  

O livro de Yancey "O Jesus que eu nunca conheci" é uma obra maravilhosa que ganhou o prêmio Gold Medallion Award (prêmio de excelência editorial nos EUA). Neste livro, Yancey tem a ousadia de enfrentar seus maiores temores, questionamentos e preconceitos a luz das declarações de Jesus Cristo. Ele confessa: "O Jesus que cheguei a conhecer ao escrever este livro é muito diferente do Jesus sobre o qual aprendi na escola dominical".

Ao terminar a leitura fiquei com a sensação de que Jesus é muito maior e mais impressionante do que imagina ainda que o autor enfatize a aspecto humano de Cristo. Mas como disse Tomas de Aquino:

“Tudo o que sabemos a seu respeito é nada comparado ao que ele é”.

Este livro é indispensável para quem deseja entender a profundidade do amor divino revelado na pessoa de Jesus.

Por Daniel Grubba.

„Grecii aveau povestiri asemanatoare despre un om numit Prometeu..., un baiat numit Icar... si o femeie numita Pandora... In fiecare dintre aceste povestiri, personajele au avansat intr-un fel, dar au decazut cu mult mai mult. Adam si Eva au decazut insa cel mau mult, primind cunostinta binelui si raului au invitat raul in lume, pierzand oportunitatea de a trai cum a intentionat Dumnezeu.

In timpurile noastre, tehnologia repeta ciclul prin care au trecut Adam si Eva, Prometeu, Icar sau Pandora. Stapanim atomul, dar si autodistrugerea este aproape. Aflam secretele vietii doar pentur a afla noi metode de a ucide fetusii si batranii. Descifram codul genetic si deschidem cutia etica a Pandorei. Imblanzim campiile, facandu-le propice agriculturii dar declansam furtuni de nisip. Taiem padurile tropicale, dar provocam inundatii. Stapanim procesul arderii interne, dar topim ghetarii. Conectam lumea la internet doar pentru a afla ca cele mai multe site-uri de pe care se preiau date sunt pornografice. Fiecare imbunatatire atrage dupa sine mai multa decadere."[In cautarea Dumnezeului nevazut. pg.301 ]                                              

Pe Philip Yancey l-am descoperit anul trecut. De curand am terminat de citit  cea de-a sasea carte din cele sapte scrise de el (pe care le stiu eu) si nu m-am plictisit sa-l citesc. Sunt cateva motive pentru care il apreciez mult:

-stilul elevat, vocabularul bogat si o vasta cultura

-logica clara si o exprimare usoara ce capteaza si pastreaza atentia

-subiectele abordate dovedesc un simt al realitatii ce uneori merge pana la limita profanului. Fara nici o ezitare da glas obiectiilor ce se ridica in inima omului referitor la credinta crestina, obiectii pe care cei mai multi se tem sa le ridice in public cu toate ca le framanta inima.

-nu vorbeste din perspectiva teologului ci a omului laic, el insusi fiind de factura jurnalist. Poate din acest motiv mesajul scrierilor sale este mult mai relevant pentru viata cotidiana a omului laic.

-nu ofera solutii triumfaliste la problemele vietii. Nu este adeptul evangheliei prosperitatii ci dimpotriva, problema suferintei apare in mod frecvent in scrierile sale prezentand intr-o maniera realista si obiectiva rolul si beneficiile unice pe care aceasta le aduce in viata crestina. [Unde este Dumnezeu cand sufar? Dezamagit de Dumnezeu ]

-desi abordeaza si probleme teologice fundamentale totusi nu forteaza argumentul si nici constiinta cititorului dandu-i acestia insa libertatea sa decida.

Va recomand din toata inima sa cititi cartile lui!

"Sex ist dem Jakobsweg sein Genitiv", das neueste Buch von Harald Schmidt, das mir meine Frau zu Weihnachten geschenkt hat. In dem Buch befindet sich das "Best of" von H.S.' gesammelten FOCUS-Kolumnen. Man fragt sich: Wie kommt er zu dem bescheuerten Titel? Die einfache Antwort: Damit wollte er die Verkaufszahlen erhöhen (wie er selbst sagt...). Man erkennt natürlich die Anlehnung an "Der Dativ ist dem Genitiv sein Tod" von Bastian Sick und an Hape Kerkerlings "Ich bin dann mal weg". Beides Bestseller, die sich ziemlich lange bei den Sachbüchern in den Top Ten gehalten haben. Und, so Schmidt weiter, wenn ich irgendwo auf einen Buchtitel das Wort "Sex" draufdrucke, dann erhöht das den Absatz garantiert.

Szenenwechsel: Vor einigen Wochen hielt ich in meiner Gemeinde die Predigt zum Thema "Was Gott über Sex denkt". Wie bei Gottesdiensten zu bestimmten Themen üblich, ging eine kleine Vorabmeldung an die Lokalpresse, die dann (wenn die Redakteure gut drauf sind) einen kleinen Artikel abdruckt. Das war's dann aber auch schon meistens mit der medialen Bearbeitung des jeweiligen Gottesdienstes.

Nicht so bei diesem Thema: An dem Tag schlug eine Mitarbeiterin der Presse auf, hat fleißig fotografiert und mitstenografiert. Auf meine schüchterne Nachfrage, was sie denn in den Gottesdienst gebracht hätte, antwortete sie: "Die Redaktion wollte mal wissen, was evangelikale Christen gerade zu dem Thema sagen..." Der Artikel erschien 2 Tage später in ansehnlicher Länge in der "Frankfurter Neuen Presse".

Was lehrt uns das: Harald Schmidt hat recht...

Im Zusammenhang mit obigem Thema noch eine kleine Buchempfehlung: Das Buch "Sehnsucht nach der unsichtbaren Welt" von Philip Yancey (Projektion J Verlag, kostet mitterweile in der Regel nur noch n' Appel und n' Ei) hat mir bei der Predigvorbereitung sehr geholfen. Nicht gerade immer theologisch tiefschürfend, aber trotzdem mit vielen guten Gedankenanstößen zum Thema Sexualität in unserer Gesellschaft.

          For the Apostle Paul, Scripture was what we now know as the Old Testament (or Hebrew Scriptures). Now, it also applies to the New Testament (the Christian Scriptures). The whole Bible – all 66 books, every chapter and verse, comes from the mouth of God speaking through God's servants.  Though the servants are flawed, God's Word is infallible - giving us all we need to know to lead a faithful life.

          The words of Scripture are useful – not just for the people who first heard them – but for us today. We are to take seriously all that the Bible has to say, and let the Holy Spirit guide our understanding, through the faith community. Only then can we discover the Truth, follow the Way, and receive new Life in Christ.

          In the Bible, God shows us the best to live.

          Once we are shown the best way to live, we need the motivation to follow it. The Bible not only informs us, but transforms us. This is where the Holy Spirit comes in.  If we listen to God’s Word, the Spirit convicts of our sin. But God’s Word doesn’t end there. God also tells us, through the Spirit of Christ, of his forgiving love. The Bible shows that God never gives up on us, even when we persistently turn away from God. God is always ready and waiting to welcome us home – the very moment we ask God for help.

          Philip Yancey in his book What's So Amazing About Grace? tells the story of a young teenager who ran away from home and found herself lost on the streets of Detroit.  She was drawn to an older man who, soon, introduced her to drugs. She became addicted. To pay for her addiction, she turned to prostitution.

          Some time later, one morning, lying in bed, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and grief. She dragged herself to a corner pay-phone. She called home.  There was no answer.  So, she left this message.

          “Mom, Dad, I’m coming home. If you are willing to take me back, meet me at the bus station at midnight. If I don’t see you, I’ll keep going and won’t bother you again."

          On the bus ride home, many questions ran through her mind. What if they don’t get the message? Even if they did, why would they accept her – after she had abandoned them?  She hadn’t been in touch for over a year. As these thoughts hounded her brain, the bus pulled into the terminal.

          She looked up and saw – not only the smiling faces of her parents, but a crowd of people holding balloons and signs. Her uncles and aunts, cousins and friends (practically the whole town) all cheered as she stepped off the bus. Welcoming her home.

          In the same way, God welcomes us home the moment turn to him for help. In Jesus Christ, God wants to share his warm embrace, his saving love with all his children.

   I am currently reading Philip Yancey's book PRAYER: Does It Make Any Difference?.  I have also read his Reaching for the Invisible God, The Jesus I Never Knew, and some of What's So Amazing About Grace?.  The first few pages of PRAYER reminded me of how God is so much bigger than the universe...how, if the universe were the size of the North American continent, our solar system would fit into a coffee cup (p. 20).  Who am I to bring my petty problems to a God that huge?  Why would he even care?  Why am I so brazen as to request help from a big God for a miniscule problem?  Aren't there billions of other people on this earth in more need than I am?  (Yes.)

   When I offer my self-centered, insignificant prayers up to God, it's a little bit like what one author calls "a desire to lay my personality at someone's feet as a puppy deposits a slobbery ball" (p. 31).  Is God the type of god to pick up my spitty ball with distaste?  Does he look at my offering with condescension---"Aww, how cute...look at her, she's trying"?  Will he toss it over his shoulder, causing me to chase after it again, endlessly?  That is a fun metaphor.

   Reading about Yancey's desire to "be still and know that [God is] God" made me want to get back in touch with that experience.  E-mail rules my life.  I needed to escape from it.  I took a bike ride on a forested path last night as the sun was setting.  It was cold, but the pumping of my legs warmed me up.  I saw half-frozen puddles, honking geese atop a creek, birds migrating overhead, tall trees with bare branches....  It all reminded me how small I am compared to this big world, compared to these trees that have been here long before me and will be here long after me.  Just as my ride was nearing its end, it started to snow.  I'm grateful for the humbling combination of Yancey's book and my prayer bike-ride.

   If you want to check out this book, I'd recommend it.  It appeals to me because it sets out to answer so many questions I myself have wrestled with:

1. Why does God let the world go on as it does and not intervene?
2. Does prayer really help with physical healing?
3. If God knows everything, what's the point of prayer?
4. Does prayer change God or change me?  (In my own wondering about this, I worded it like: Does prayer change God's mind?)

I look forward to finding out the answers!  If that's possible!

*          *          *

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
   the moon and the stars that you have established;
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
   mortals that you care for them?

Psalm 8:3-4 (NRSV)

"The proof of spiritual maturity is not how pure you are, but an awareness of your impurity.  That very awareness opens the door to grace.  Spiritual maturity is not measured in the rules you keep.  Spiritual maturity is not measured in the Bible answers you know is small groups.  Spiritual maturity is not even about what you do.  Primarily, spiritual maturity is knowing who you are in Christ."

REEPICHEEP... you know, that insane killing machine from Narnia...

It will be interesting to see if Walden Media is able to bring C.S. Lewis's Prince Caspian without botching it the way they did The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I'm not going to jump to any conclusions. But I *am* nervous.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Eddie Izzard, the standup comedian who will be the voice of Reepicheep in Prince Caspian. And we have to take this description of Reepicheep with several grains of salt, as it's from a fellow who's *always* in the middle of a comedy performance. But still... does this sound like C.S. Lewis's Reepicheep to you?

Reepicheep's the mouse in Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and Prince Caspian's about to come out so I am doing the voice of this mouse. So the mouse is actually I think like a cross between Mad Max and someone else kinda psychotic, I said this to the director, I said I think he's got this kind of a Mad Max thing, he's kind of this insane mouse who's just... he's all for honour, and he's very, very chivalrous, but he is a very dangerous mouse who comes in like a train, murdering everyone left, right and centre so, so that's kinda like me, like an action transvestite, and he's just an action mouse, so some sort of crossover there...

•  

Sound the fanfare. Here comes Indy.

Here comes the trailer for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull!

•  

What's so amazing about Katherine Heigl's reading habits?

This will probably be the only time I ever mention Katherine Heigl and Philip Yancey in the same sentence... but look who's reading my favorite Yancey book!

(I guess you could say I'm a Heigl fan. I've liked her since long before Knocked Up, going back to TV's "Roswell." I found myself standing next to her in baggage claim in an airport last year and almost introduced her to my wife Anne, who really is from Roswell, but Heigl looked a little bit travel-weary, so I left her alone.) (Thanks to Beth Rambo for catching the reference to Yancey's book!)

I thought I understood grace until I read Yancey’s masterpiece. Great theology, inspiring stories and a raw honesty combine to make this an inspiring, brilliant, challenging and un-put-down-able book. If this book does not lead you to worship as you are assaulted by grace then check your pulse… Oh just one thing – this book may well enrage you, because Yancey does not hold back any punches as he explores the full implications of free grace!

My favorite writer in all the world is Philip Yancey...and if you check my MySpace, he's one of the two people I most want to meet. But really, he's the person I most want to meet. Why? Because Yancey's writing has profoundly affected my life, my thoughts, and my writing. The Jesus I Never Knew is still one of my favorite books (it could possibly be my favorite, but I don't want all my other favorite books to feel left out!) Before his determined analysis of Jesus in character, culture, and humanity, I never could fathom Jesus as "real". True, I believed the Bible, but I never felt deeply one way or the other.

Through his other books Disappointment with God, Reaching for the Invisible God, Church: Why Bother?, and others, I found someone who shared my doubts. Yancey put things in a way that related to me, that allowed my mind to consider new possibilities. So it was with great pleasure I read Christianity Today's online article about Philip Yancey, who is editor-at-large and a regular columnist for the magazine. The article, written by long-time friend Tim Stafford, talks about Yancey's history, passion, and his "healing pen". It made me want to spend the rest of the day reading all the Philip Yancey books I own!

Check out "The Healing Pen" a biographical piece on Philip Yancey and how he uses words to heal himself and others (like me).