Truthdig – an online magazine that I read regularly – has published an excellent essay by Chris Hedges describing the anti-war protests of Phil and Dan Berrigan during the 1960’s movement against the war in Vietnam. It is entitled “Resistance is the Supreme Act of Faith.”
I became a follower of Mr. Hedges’ work years ago when I read his excellent book, War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, reflecting on his many years as a war correspondent. It’s a book that I believe every American should read.
I have copied selected excerpts from the Truthdig article below. You can find the entire piece by clicking on the title above.
“The struggle against the monstrous radical evil that dominates our lives—an evil that is swiftly despoiling the earth and driving the human species toward extinction, stripping us of our most basic civil liberties and freedoms, waging endless war and solidifying the obscene wealth of an oligarchic elite at our
expense—will be fought only with the belief that resistance, however futile, insignificant and even self-defeating it may appear, can set in motion moral and spiritual forces that radiate outward to inspire others, including those who come after us. It is, in essence, an act of faith. Nothing less than this faith will sustain us. We resist not because we will succeed, but because it is right. Resistance is the supreme act of faith.”
…….
“The Berrigans, who identified as religious radicals, had little use for liberals. Liberals, they said, addressed only small, moral fragments and used their pet causes, in most cases, not to bring about systemic change, but for self-adulation. Liberals often saw wars or social injustices as isolated evils whose end would restore harmony.”
…….
“The Berrigans excoriated the church hierarchy for sacralizing the nation, the government, capitalism, the military and the war. They argued that the fusion of secular and religious authority would kill the church as a religious institution. The archbishop of New York at the time, Cardinal Francis J. Spellman, in one example, sprinkled holy water on B-52 bombers and blessed the warplanes before their missions in Vietnam. He described the conflict as a ‘war for civilization’ and ‘Christ’s war against the Vietcong and the people of North Vietnam.’ Phil Berrigan, the first priest to go to jail for protesting the war, celebrated Mass for his fellow prisoners. The services were, for the first time, well attended.”
I, personally, wish that churchmen like the Berrigan brothers would include a more forthright, verbal witness to Jesus Christ and the kingdom of God in their lifestyle of public resistance.
On the other hand, they at least are/were doing the work that precious few evangelicals bother to think about.
I wish that religious activists like Chris Hedges, a former Harvard divinity student, could understand that the foundation stone of spiritual death in this world is not found in temporal systems of repression, whether social, political or economic, but are rooted in the all-pervasive nature of humanity’s sinfulness.
On the other hand, he at least publicly identifies and condemns the many evils that most evangelicals bless and embrace.
The kingdom of God on earth will never erupt from within. It is a foreign entity, a rule from witsout, that only arrives with the resurrected Jesus. I believe that this fact is the beginning of our only hope in life as well as in death.
But I also wish that more men and women who understand the gospel of Jesus Christ would also understand the essential, moral, spiritual continuity that ties Christian self-denial to our faithful resistance against all forms of evil, whether that evil shows itself in militarism, warfare, capitalism, nationalism, inequality, civil religion, racism, or injustice.
The church’s failure to make this connection consistently, to think and to behave with coherence across all these areas of life, cripple our witness, stunt our spiritual development, and abandon a needy world to the merchants of half-measures.
I encourage you to read Mr. Hedges’ weighty words and think about his lessons through the lens of Jesus’ own ethics. Perhaps, my book I Pledge Allegiancecan help, if this is a new exercise for you.
And, believe it or not, the New Testament does not call that “worship.”
Second, we found that the New Testament insists that Christian worship is the stuff believers do in their day-to-day lives as they obediently follow Jesus. We worship God when we do the things Jesus has called us to do as members of his upside-down, counter-intuitive kingdom.
Worship is a lifestyle not because we sing praise songs and lift our hands while driving, but because we make the radically hard choices of actually being like Jesus and obeying his not-of-this-world teaching in our daily lives with others.
This is the point where I frequently hear an objection: If worship is an everyday affair, aren’t I minimizing the idea of worship as a “sacred/special” activity?
To put the question more negatively, people sometimes object, “If everything is worship, then nothing is worship.” (One of my former colleagues used to say this regularly).
“There must be something unique or ‘special’ about worshiping God,” they insist. “Otherwise giving God our focused attention simply melts away into the repetitious fabric of mundane existence, and it will never really happen at all!”
This worry arises from a legitimate concern, but I believe that its impulses are misguided. My response to this objection has two parts. Here I will offer part one. Part two must wait for the next post.
First,the New Testament has dramatically eliminated the Old Testament distinction between the sacred & the profane within the Christian life.
In the Old Testament, the “sacred” was conceived of in terms of proximity to God. God’s presence appeared at certain shrines, in the Tabernacle or in the Temple. These places involved sacred locations (like altars), sacred personnel (priests), sacred objects (vestments, incense burners) and sacred acts (sacrifices, offerings).
The profane, on the other hand, was excluded from the sacred. Profane things involved the mundane, day-to-day, worldly affairs of normal life, normal places and normal people.
Old Testament saints lived within two different sets of distinctions:
One was the sacred/profane distinction described above.
The second was the covenantal distinction between Israel’s membership in the Abrahamic & Sinai covenants, compared with everyone else in the world who lived outside of God’s covenants. Israel and Israel alone were the Lord’s covenant people.
These two dimensions of (a) sacred/profane and (b) inside the covenant/outside the covenant intersected Israel’s existence in significant ways.
All those living inside the covenant were God’s chosen people. As God’s covenant people, Israel was commanded to maintain the distinction between the sacred – i.e. they went to the Temple, offered sacrifices and understood God’s presence to be centered in the Holy of Holies – and the profane – i.e. they believed that God always saw them and heard their prayers, but they never entered into God’s presence at home as they did when they entered into the Temple.
All of Israel’s life was lived within the covenant, but covenant life was not identical with the sacred way of life. Even Israel’s priests – who were always members of the covenant – moved back and forth between the sacred and profane, depending on their times of temple service.
With the coming of Christ, however, God instituted a radical change of affairs. The Lord Jesus inaugurated the NEW Covenant, or the New Testament.
With the coming of God’s New Covenant, what had previously been two different distinctions (sacred/profane and in covenant/out of covenant) are now fused into one. In other words, every member of the New Covenant is alwaysliving a sacred existence in sacred space. Those outside the New Covenant, because they do not know Jesus, live a profane life in profane space.
Anyone participating in the resurrection life of Jesus Christ can know that the previously profane has been transformed into the perpetually sacred. The covenantal distinction is now identical with the sacred/profane distinction. All disciples of Jesus are holy people. Every Christian is a priest. Every act of obedience is a sacred act, an offering of praise, a sacrifice acceptable to God.
I am convinced that this New Testament “universalizing” of the sacred, scattering sacredness throughout all of the Christian life, is a sign of Christ’s intention to restore the universe to God’s original design.
When Adam and Eve walked through the Garden of Eden, all of life was sacred. The entire cosmos was sacred. Sacred space was everywhere. There was no place that was not a sacred place. The Creator walked and talked with the first man and woman as they strolled through the aspen groves and smelled wild roses in the overgrown thickets along the bubbling stream.
Sacred space was all there was.
So now, since the coming of Jesus, the apostle Paul can describe his lifestyle of obedient discipleship as “his priestly service” (note the language of a sacred person offering a sacred activity – i.e. worship) given up to Jesus Christ from the dirty streets and dark alleyways of every Greco-Roman city where the apostle sets the light of the Good News ablaze.
Worship becomes a lifestyle of faithful kingdom citizenship, first and foremost, because of who we are.
Jesus makes us saints and priests whose every breath drawn in thanksgiving, every thought of God’s glory, every word spoken in the light of Christ’s presence, every decision made in accordance with God’s intention, becomes a moment of worship offered up by a sacred individual inhabiting God’s new world.
Now, is that amazing, or what?
Praise be to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ for His indescribable gifts to us all!
Recently, a gentleman by the name of David Murrow offered a blog post at Patheos entitled “Why Seeker-Friendly Churches are Losing Seekers.” He explains why he believes many so-called “seeker-friendly” churches are seeing a decline in the attendance of unbelievers.
Since I have long thought about, but never followed through on, writing an article about the Willow Creek seeker-targeted church strategy, and the vastly more popular compro mise dubbed seeker-friendly services, I decided to chime in on the subject here rather than procrastinate further.
Unfortunately, Mr. Murrow does not offer any evidence or citation substantiating his claim. But, for the moment, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and accept his claim. He does offer some good observations and sound advice. I recommend the article to anyone involved in a “seeker” ministry.
Mr. Murrow’s puts his finger, perhaps unintentionally, on the fundamental flaws found at the core of so-called seeker-sensitive church services, flaws which have given rise to serious misunderstandings about what it means to be a seeker-driven church.
I attended numerous leadership conferences at Willow Creek in the 1990s. I always took a team of church leaders with me so we could strategize together about the best ways to transform our church community back home into a church that grew by evangelism. We wanted to see people come to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior and then grow as committed disciples within our church community.
I was raised in a fundamentalist tradition that prized its annual week of Revival Meetings. Year after year the church brought in a visiting evangelist who spoke every evening for a week as the center piece for our revival meetings. Church members were strongly encouraged to bring their “lost” friends so that they could hear the Good News and “be saved.”
As I learned about the origins and goals of Willow’s seeker-targeted church strategies, I soon recognized that by following in the long, innovative tradition of Youth for Christ, Young Life and similar evangelical organizations from the 1940s and 50s, Willow Creek had simply devised a new way to conduct old-fashioned revival meetings. Except these evangelistic meetings happened weekly instead of annually. The evangelist was the teaching pastor. Instead of a tent with a sawdust trail, the gathering site was in the church building.
Here is the key: In a true seeker ministry the Sunday morning seeker-service (or seeker-targeted service) is an evangelistic meeting.
Its primary purpose is to create a place where Christians can bring their non-Christian friends to learn about Jesus Christ and his church. A seeker-service is not designed for believers. Let me say that again. A seeker-service is not designed for believers except as they become evangelists themselves, bringing their friends to hear the pastor/evangelist talk about the real-world relevance of the gospel.
Whenever I wrote seeker-targeted messages I told myself that I was going to talk about life with respect to the Bible. My seeker messages were typically topical.
Christians who were church shopping often disapproved of our seeker services, saying they weren’t “worshipful” enough. But, frankly, since the service wasn’t designed with them in mind, I never let those criticisms bother me.
Eventually, seeker-targeted churches must develop a second schedule of services for worship/praise/body-life activities that will meet the spiritual needs of disciples. Christians need regularly to praise Jesus, glorify their heavenly Father, confess their sins, thank the Lord for answered prayer, and a million-and-one other things besides.
We typically call this a “worship service.” Seekers can’t worship Jesus Christ because they don’t know him yet. So, nothing in our worship services was designed specifically for “seekers.” When I wrote a message for our worship services I told myself that I was going to talk about the Bible with respect to life. My “worship” messages were typically expository.
Worship services and seeker services are two very, very different beasts. They have different goals. They are intended for different audiences. Seekers don’t/can’t worship God, so don’t ask them to. Believers, on the other hand, need more than a weekly “revival” meeting, so don’t limit their diet to evangelistic milk.
Leaders at Willow Creek regularly warned us visiting pastors about the challenges waiting to ambush anyone hoping to move their church out of its traditionalism into a seeker-targeted method of ministry.
I cannot recall ever hearing a leader at Willow Creek encourage church leaders purposely to develop a compromise called a seeker-sensitive service. Such services were described as hybrids, a compromise, or a short-term transitional strategy used by churches having difficulty moving fully to a seeker-targeted ministry. But I cannot recall ever hearing anyone at Willow encourage leaders to develop seeker-sensitive services for Sunday morning as a permanent part of their strategy.
Sadly, for whatever reasons, it appears that the majority of churches, whether they have ever been to Willow Creek or not, have opted for seeker-sensitive worship services today. Precious few congregations have made the effort or taken the risks to create both worship services for believers and seeker-targeted services for unbelievers.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long before people were promoting this compromise by writing books and offering seminars about the benefits of “worship evangelism.”
What a shame.
Too many church leaders have taken the easy road of becoming all things to all people gathered together in the same place at once. In my experience, that rarely works, and even when it appears to work, it is not in anyone’s best interests.
Anyone trying to become all things to all people becomes nothing special to no one in particular.
Remember that in the Old Testament, Yahweh spoke to the prophet Balaam through a dumb ass. But Balaam did not spend the rest of his life loitering around barn yards, waiting to hear his next word from God.
The Lord can certainly use Christian worship to call sinners to Himself. The Holy Spirit blows where he wills, as he wills, whenever he wills. I know a woman who surrendered herself to Jesus while listening to me deliver a message about tithing from the book of Leviticus. But that didn’t cause me to write books about the wonders of “Levitical-Stewardship Evangelism.” (No. Please. Don’t go there).
The surprising movement of God’s grace is never a sufficient reason to promote new strategies for dumb ass church services.
I am afraid that the fear and half-hearted commitment found at the origins of so many seeker-sensitive services are significant factors in the gross levels of spiritual childishness crippling large swaths of American evangelicalism.
Too many Sunday messages soft-sell the radical demands of Jesus and his gospel, for fear of offending visitors. (This should neverbe an issue, not even in seeker-targeted services).
Just as too many offerings of “praise music” make no attempt whatsoever to lead God’s people into the unnerving, overwhelming presence of the Lord Almighty, to whom the angels sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord who sits on His throne.”
The real problem is not simply that seeker-friendly churches may lose their appeal to seekers, as Mr. Murrow warns. These services also consistently fail to produce mature disciples who walk faithfully as citizens of God’s radical, upside-down kingdom on earth.
That’s a spiritual double-whammy from which no church can recover until we come to our senses and abandon the conspiracy of half-measures that make “seeker-sensitive worship” the liturgical monstrosity that it is.
Few people understand Christian faith more clearly than Sǿren Kierkegaard. Here is another section from his book, Judge For Yourself (pages 99-100 in the Hong, Princeton edition). A few words of explanation may help if you’ve never read Kierkegaard before.
Faith is risking the improbable because (a) it is impossible to prove empirically that you have truly encountered God, and (b) there is no measure of empirical probability that Jesus of Nazareth is God incarnate.
Thus, faith risks the improbable. A significant challenge for modern folks who insist on evidence.
Some people (Kierkegaard calls them lightweights) claim to venture the risk of faith, but only because they think that anything done “in faith” is guaranteed success; that is, success in earthly terms. Success as they define success.
Hear the faithful Dane speak to us today (emphasis is mine):
“Here is the infinite difference from the essentially Christian, since Christianly, indeed, even just religiously, the person who never relinquished probability never became involved with God. All religious, so say nothing of Christian, venturing is on the other side of probability, is by way of relinquishing probability.
“But then is the essentially Christian utter folly and are the sensible people right – it is intoxication? No! Admittedly many a one has thought that he was venturing Christianly when he ventured to relinquish probability, and it was pure and simple folly even according to the view of Christianity. Christianity has its own characteristic way of restraining…the point to check carefully here is to see whether the venturing actually is in reliance upon God.
“To connect God’s name with one’s wishes, cravings, and plans is easy, far too easy for the lightweights; but it does not follow that their venturing is in reliance upon God. No, in relinquishing probability in order to venture in reliance upon God, one must admit to oneself the implications of relinquishing probability – that when one then ventures it is just as possible, precisely just as possible, to fail as to succeed…That one ventures in reliance upon God provides no immediate certainty of success; the dubiousness in the lightweights’ venturing in reliance upon God lies precisely in their understanding this to mean that they must be victorious.. But this is not venturing in reliance upon God; this is taking God in vain.”
Entrusting our lives to Jesus Christ ensures a right relationship with our heavenly Father here and now. It also guarantees an eternity with Him in the world to come. But neither faith nor Jesus promise to give us whatever we hope and pray for, no matter how “faithful” our intentions or “glorious” we think it might be for God.
So, do we trust in Jesus and follow Him for his own sake? Or do we have ulterior motives?
If you know me personally or are a regular reader of this blog, then you know that I am a non-conformist. Part of this is my personality. I have always questioned authority and wondered (often out loud) about the real evidence behind public statements of “fact.”
But the greatest influence pushing me further and further into the arms of non-conformity has been my faith in Jesus Christ. Every true disciple is a non-conformist to the ways of this world.
That includes pushing back against the various ways that this world sets up shop inside the church, selling God’s people worldly rubbish like a rogue sidewalk vender hawking enticing chili dogs without a license.
“There will never be a sufficient consensus on anything in this life—including biblical interpretation and social activism—to eliminate all of life’s uncertainties. If we act only in the absence of uncertainty, then we will never do anything but wait and invent new excuses for our inactivity. Living a biblically directed life is the only way to deconstruct the false moral universes erected by this world and replace them with the moral universe created by the kingdom of God. Of course, as long as we remain in this world, we are partially blinded and crippled by the misshapen universe we are working to leave behind, so our interpretations and conclusions must be held lightly. But they must be held. Uncertainty never justifies apathy.
“Second, there comes a time when the individual must act and act alone if necessary, while being prepared to accept the consequences of those actions, whatever they may be. It is no accident that Peter Haas introduces his discussion of Germany’s Christian rescuers by saying: “A common feature of any principled dissent . . . [is] that the rescuers are deviants, people who are misfits in their society. . . . [Their actions] grew out of the rescuer’s experience as social and political outcasts.” Principled individualism, what the status quo will always condemn as the deviant behavior of misfits and outcasts, is the distinguishing characteristic of Christian faithfulness in this fallen world.
“Unfortunately, there are many pious voices that want to sedate this brand of individualism by wrapping it up tightly in the maudlin, anesthetic gauze of “community life.” Christian gatherings easily become the most repressive, stultifying crowds that squash the last vestige of creative individualism from its members: Never act alone. Never step out of line. Never speak when others are quiet. Never question authority. Never doubt what everyone else believes. Never question the way it has always been done. Never try to think outside the box. These are the conformist platitudes repeated by the crowd in its self-serving attempts to constrain passionate individuals, preventing them from acting for the sake of conscience. At times the Christian church has become the most oppressive, do-nothing herd of them all.
“So we must learn to discern the difference between a fellowship that participates in God’s kingdom and a collective that exists only to replicate carbon copies of the citizens of this world.”
Recently, I received a message from a former student who is now also a friend. I have his permission to share that message with you:
“I’ll give you an update in my life soon, but I’ve got a somewhat pressing question. Are the NT claims about marrying a divorced person as straightforward as they seem? I’ve never really had a chance to study the question but I’m getting to know a divorced woman I would like to date, but I don’t want to glibly say ‘the Bible’s teaching doesn’t make sense to me so I’m going to ignore it.’
“My sexual orientation includes same sex attraction and I can’t figure out why God makes homosexuality off limits, but it’s clear to me that he does so I submit to Christ where I don’t understand him.
“I’m willing to do that with dating divorced women too. But I’ve also learned not to trust my natural reading of the text ‘in plain English.’ As a retired pastor what are your pastoral and academic thoughts on the issue?”
Folks, that’s how a real citizen of God’s kingdom thinks. That’s how a genuine disciple makes decisions, by answering the question, “What does Jesus ask of me?”
The commitment to say “No” to ourselves as we say “Yes” to Christ is the Biblical definition of faith. My young friend illustrates just that – a life of faith oriented to the Lord Jesus, first, last and always, whatever the cost, no matter the sacrifice, regardless of the necessary self-denial.
Some people approach Christian living as if Jesus were a new, spiritual “app” for their lifestyle iPhone. Nothing else changes; they simply add a Jesus button to their many options.
Feeling stressed? Press the Jesus app. He’ll help.
Need a pick-me-up? Press the Jesus app. He’ll be there.
Sorry, but that’s not real Christianity.
Truly following the crucified, resurrected Lord requires an entire rearrangement of life’s perspectives and priorities. It means becoming functionally “unnatural,” an habitually counter-clockwise person in a very, very clock-wise world.
Following Jesus is like tossing the iPhone with all of its apps, bells and whistles over your shoulder, while strapping a simple, ticking Timex to your wrist with a second hand and numbers on its face. And, oh yes, you must relearn how to wait until you are home again before even thinking about another phone call.
Following Jesus is a radical step. He won’t become an addition to anybody’s life. Jesus always wants to remake everything in His own image. He will become the totality or he will become nothing to us at all.
That’s real Christianity. And I am humbled to have had some small role in encouraging their life of faith.
This young friend of mine, a man who is making his future with Jesus Christ THE most important relationship of his life, is discipling me in what it means to follow Jesus.
Had I ever become a seminary professor, I would have made all my students read For Self-Examination and Judge for Yourself! by Sǿren Kierkegaard. Either book is a good place to begin for anyone who is unfamiliar with my favorite “melancholy Dane” and wants to start reading Kierkegaard on their own.
Both books, published in 1851, only 4 years before his death at age 42, are a clarion call to genuine Christian living. Kierkegaard particularly focuses on the centrality of Scripture, not simply as a book to be read or studied, nor as a source for Sunday sermons, but as a compelling Word from God that must be obeyed.
The only sufficient goal of all Bible-reading is personal transformation, and transformation only happens for those who surrender to God’s instructions by DOING what scripture says. Reading without response is like a single person pretending to be married while eating alone every night.
Here is Kierkegaard’s advice (from For Self-Examination) for anyone whose Bible-reading has stalled because of its many difficult, hard to understand passages:
“…perhaps you say, ‘there are so many obscure passages in the Bible, whole books that are practically riddles.’ To that I would answer: Before I have anything to do with this objection, it must be made by someone whose life manifests that he/she has scrupulously complied with all the passages that are easy to understand; is this the case with you?…
“In other words, when you are reading God’s Word, it is not the obscure passages that bind you but what you understand, and with that you are to comply at once. If you understood only one single passage in all of Holy Scripture, well, then you must do that first of all, but you do not first have to sit down and ponder the obscure passages. God’s Word is given in order that you shall act according to it, not that you shall practice interpreting obscure passages. If you do not read God’s Word in such a way that you consider that the least little bit you do understand instantly binds you to do accordingly, then you are reading God’s Word.”
She unexpectedly bumped into another friend while they both were marching in a local protest demonstrating against president Trump’s immigration policies.
She passed along these kind remarks:
“…(my friend) mentioned that the men’s book club had finished reading I Pledge Allegiance this morning, and found it really good and deeply challenging in all the right ways – and also that he had been in touch with you to say how superb he finds the book. I’m really glad that he took the initiative to contact you!! He and I have been talking a lot about it recently, and how we need to keep it close by to help us to navigate the insanity.”
I could not be more pleased. She describes everything I hope would happen when disciples wrestle with God’s word while considering the arguments found in my book.
I am pleased as punch.
If you haven’t yet read I Pledge Allegiance, please join the crowd of those who have and ask the Holy Spirit what He wants you to be doing for the kingdom of God in this world right now.
Recently a good friend sent me a selection of articles from past issues of the Christian Century. They all deal with Christianity and gun control. More specifically, they contain stories about the ways various churches are dealing with concealed carry laws in their states and whether they allow guns in church. (You can read my previous posts about gun control and guns in church here, and here.)
I may revisit other articles in the future, but for now, I was especially struck by an article from pastor Kyle Childress entitled, “In Texas, Even the Pastors are Carrying Guns in the Pulpit” (3/7/16 in print, 3/16/16 online).
Several years ago I attended a public meeting sponsored by a cadre of local churches. Several hundred people showed up at the local Hilton Hotel conference room. At the end of his anti-Muslim rant, the visiting pastor/speaker boasted about the fact that he and all his church elders carried their guns to every church activity, both inside and out of the church building, in order “to protect their flock.”
Contrast that man’s view of Christian faith with the following story excerpted from pastor Childress’s article:
“The rationale of gun-carrying church members is that they want to be ready to protect themselves and their families if an armed intruder enters the church. But with the new [concealed carry] law in place, who will know if the person is an armed intruder or an armed visitor?…All visitors are now scrutinized, with every visitor being a potential threat. At the same time, to demonstrate their enthusiasm for the new law, some churches are posting signs that say — as an act of outreach — ‘Guns Welcome Here.’
“I’ve been astonished at the level of fear associated with perceived threats that are just outside our doors ready to get us…I keep asking myself where the witness of Christ is in all of this. Many of the pastors who are carrying guns teach and preach a version of the gospel that’s different from what I know. It is a gospel of everyone looking out for himself or herself, a gospel that says, ‘It’s a dangerous world, so get them before they get you…’
“One of my deacons, the dean of a nearby college, was in a faculty meeting listening to faculty members discuss how they were all getting guns. The dean said she refused to carry a gun. It got quiet in the room, then someone asked why. She said she was not prepared to shoot and perhaps kill someone. There
was a long pause and then ‘What would you do if someone threatening came into the classroom?’ The dean said, ‘I’d tell them about Jesus and try to show them the love of Jesus.’
“‘You could hear a pin drop,’ she told me later. ‘Everyone looked at the floor, and someone changed the subject.’
“During a sermon on baptism a few weeks ago, I explained why I would not be carrying a gun in the pulpit or anywhere else. ‘It has to do with baptism,’ I said. ‘When I went down into the waters of baptism, I did not come out to strap on a gun. I came out entering into the life of the crucified and resurrected Jesus Christ.’ I went on, ‘In baptism our lives are no longer our own. We belong to Christ.’ I could see and hear some crying in the congregation…”
Our lives are no longer our own.
We belong wholly and completely belong to Jesus Christ to do with as He pleases.
If your pastor is packing heat, I am afraid that he doesn’t have wisdom enough to lead a conga line, much less the people of God.
I believe in miracles. More precisely, I believe that God works miracles today because I have experienced them in my life.
Miracles pose a problem for comfortable Christianity. They require faith. Faith in the sense of taking a risk. Faith in the sense of pushing off into the unknown, realizing that if God does not come through for you, then you are sunk, done, in trouble.
Those who have seen God perform such miracles know two things.
First, you venture out in faith because you know it is the only way for you to obey Jesus, not because it sounds cool or would give you a neat story to tell others. Rather, you are convinced that not venturing out into the unknown would be disobedient. Somehow or another you simply know that the Lord has told you, “Get going.”
Second, since faith is always a risk – if nothing is ever put at risk, then I am not living by faith – miracles arise from acts of self-denial. The faithful disciple walks a sometimes crazy-looking path that frequently turns us
away from security, away from safety, away from comfort, away from things we have always wanted. Miracles can only happen for those willing to embrace insecurity, discomfort, loss, and sometimes danger in the cause of following Jesus.
So, I have decided to continue my autobiographical account of self-denial by sharing a few miracle stories. By sharing these stories, I hope to praise God for the great things He has done in my life. I also hope to enlist my readers in praising the Lord by venturing out yourselves, taking faithful risks through your own obedient acts of self-denial, acts that will demonstrate God’s faithfulness in your lives, too.
Towards the end of my studies at Regent College (check out my earlier posts here and here that bring us to this point) I arrived at the conviction that
Jesus was calling me to study for my Ph.D. at the University of Aberdeen, Scotland. (I will tell that story another day.)
The main obstacle to this plan was our complete lack of money. Graduate studies overseas would be expensive. What to do? Reason told us drop the idea like a hot potato because it was simply ridiculous. You can’t shove a square peg into a round hole, and you can’t do expensive things without money.
Fortunately, I have never been particularly fond of the idea of limiting myself to a “realistic life.” In fact, for many years I have regularly recited to myself a little mantra that I came up with – I will only deal with what is real in order to strive for God’s ideal. (Yes, I wish I had more opportunities to preach in African-American churches.)
So, Terry and I began to pray, asking for guidance in two areas. One, did the Lord really want us to go to Scotland, or was it just my own idea? Two, if we were supposed to go to Scotland, how would we get there? We didn’t have any savings and getting enough money in loans was impossible for us back then. What were we to do?
Terry and I decided to set out a “fleece,” not unlike the Old Testament story of Gideon in Judges 6:36-40. (Whenever I tell this story to young people, I always insist that they not make this a common practice. It is not a normative way to pray, but it worked for me, so it is part of my Christian story.)
We began to pray for the money we needed. Except, we were always praying for money, money to pay the bills, to buy groceries, you name it. How would Scotland money look any different from our regular money miracles? We finally decided to pray for lots of money in a short period of time. We looked into the cost of airline tickets for our family of 4 and decided to ask God for enough cash to buy them. That would get the ball rolling. As I recall, 4 tickets were about $2,000 in those days.
We further decided that we would not share this particular prayer request with anybody, not with friends, our Bible study group or church. It was between us and the Lord. So, we prayed daily that if this cockamamie idea was, in fact, God’s will for our lives, then He would give us $2,000 dollars in big donations within 4 weeks. If this didn’t happen, then we knew it was not God’s plan for us, and we would pursue something else.
Before the first week was over, I opened our post office box in downtown Blaine, Washington one afternoon and saw a large, white envelope looking as pregnant as a white envelope could possibly look. I opened it up to find $1,000 in cash. To this day, we do not know the identity of our generous benefactor. But that’s OK because the Lord Jesus knows exactly who it is, and their reward is waiting from them in heaven.
I ran home, showed the envelope to Terry, and we thanked the Lord for His wonderful generosity. It was a large donation in a short period of time, no doubt. But I also reminded Jesus that if he wanted us to go to Aberdeen, he had only answered half our prayer. We still needed an additional $1,000 within the next 3 weeks.
We continued to pray for guidance.
To make a long story short, before the month was over we received 2 additional, large gifts from out-of-state friends that brought the total amount to $2,500. It certainly appeared to be a clear answer to our prayers. So, the decision was made. We were moving to Scotland!
But we only had enough money to buy the airline tickets, which we promptly did. We also needed money for tuition, living expenses once we arrived and, first of all, a student visa.
If there is one thing I have learned about following the Lord, it is to take the journey one step at a time. Rather than worry about tuition and living expenses, I tackled the visa issue first.
I sent a letter to the British embassy applying for my student visa. At that time, student visa applications required documentary proof of adequate funds for at least one year’s living expenses and tuition. We had no money at all. We hadn’t prayed for that much money yet. But, I figured since God was leading me to Scotland that I would mail in my application anyway.
Imagine my disappointment when my visa application was denied. How could that be?
There was only one thing to do. I needed to explain to the ambassador what was at stake. So, I sat down and wrote a letter to the embassy. I wish I had kept a copy for myself. Let me give you the gist of what I said. It went something like this: “Dear Mr. Ambassador, I am a Christian. I believe that Jesus is calling me to study in Scotland. I may not have all the necessary funds now, but I know that the Lord will not ask me to do something that He will not also finance. Don’t worry, the money will come as needed. If you continue to deny me the visa that I require, you will be standing in the way of God’s will for my life. I don’t think you want to do that. It never turns out well. Sincerely, David Crump”
Voila. Guess what. My next letter from the British embassy contained a student visa! Don’t tell me God doesn’t work miracles.
I could go on and on. For the next 3+ years we watched God perform one big miracle extravaganza. There are too many stories to tell here. I will only say that I was annually required to meet with British immigration officials when I applied for next year’s visa. I never had sufficient funds to meet their requirements. I never had a year’s worth of living expenses to prove that I would not be working illegally. With the exception of one year when I was awarded a national fellowship, I never possessed a year’s worth of tuition. All I could do was enter every interview believing that Jesus was giving me another opportunity to share the gospel with someone in the British immigration service. I would praise my Savior by sharing the latest miracle stories describing how the Lord Jesus continued to meet our needs.
For the next 3 years my interviews all went something like this:
Agent: Show me your papers, bank statements, etc. please.
Me: I put my papers on the table, such as they were.
Agent: Is this all?
Me: Yes. That’s all.
Agent: You don’t have enough money to live here for another year. What are you doing? What’s your plan? How will you survive?
Me: I am a Christian, and the Lord Jesus takes care of my family. We pray for what we need, and he gives it to us. I would then tell him a few of our most recent miracle stories to illustrate my case – and to praise the Lord.
At this point, the agent had every reason to withhold my visa, tell me that my time of study was over and then evict us from the country. But that never happened. Year after year I listened to an immigration official say something like this: “I have never heard anything like this before. But whatever you are doing seems to be working for you.”
He would then hand me my new visa and call for the next student.
Yes, I earned my Ph.D. from King’s College, University of Aberdeen, Scotland. We enjoyed life in Scotland for slightly more than 3 years. The Lord kept all of his promises to us. I wish I could say that Terry and I floated from one miracle cloud to the next while living carefree, blissful lives. But I would be lying.
At times, those years also felt like God was putting us through a faith-meat-grinder. I am not a perfectly faithful person. We experienced some of the most stressful, worrying, difficult periods of our lives, times where we lived with tears, anxiety and headaches (literally). Our faith was tested in ways we never anticipated.
We learned firsthand that hardship is also a common feature of miracle stories. Since tests are an essential ingredient of God’s strategy for strengthening faith (James 1:2-8; Hebrews 12:7-11), and faithful risk-taking is essential to the appearance of miracles, few if any miracles will ever occur that fail to stretch our faith, seemingly to the breaking point.
Praying for miracles is not for the faint of heart. Obedient discipleship is not always a bed of roses. But oh, my goodness…nothing in this world could ever tempt me to trade in my front row seat to witnessing the awesome, unbelievable work of God, the overwhelming measure of His loving kindness, and His perfect faithfulness to someone like me.
P.S. Which also reminds me of this important lesson: faith has more to do with the decisions we make and how we act than it does with the way we feel.