Today I had my very last seminary class EVER! It was definitely bittersweet, but I have to say that I couldn’t have asked for a better one to end on. This class was on the book of Acts, so we spent a large portion of the time reflecting on what we’d learned about Acts throughout the semester. At the end of the class, however, as my professor made his final remarks and drew things to a close, he revealed to us that all semester long he has been teaching us in a manner that runs against the grain of our culture. He explained it to us as follows:

“We are a culture afflicted by clichés and soundbites and modes of communication that work against patient wrestling with the profoundest and deepest matters that we know of. T.V. and internet, by their modes of communication, tend to erase the possibility of dwelling with a question or with a text. And the more you expose yourself to these modes of communication, the more you begin to communicate in these modes. As a result, our capacity to wrestle with a text that doesn’t communicate in clichés and soundbites becomes contracted. And when our modes of communication run counter to the way the text is written, then we inhibit the text itself.”

I think my professor hit the nail on the head with this observation. Just a couple months ago I had the opportunity to hear a Catholic theologian named Richard John Neuhaus give a meditation on love, and it was so moving that I wept at the end. Afterwards, I asked a friend what he thought of the meditation, and he indignantly replied, “I didn’t like it. I mean, where was the take-away? What was I supposed to get out of it?”

The “take-away”–isn’t that what we’re always looking for when we listen to a sermon, read a book, or study Scripture? We want something here and now, a catchy phrase that’s easy to remember and might fit well on a bumper sticker, like, “Let go and let God” or “Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.” That kind of faith doesn’t require a whole lot of thought or work, but it’s symptomatic of the the consumer culture we live in. Our culture demands its product right away in an easily consumable size, so we’ve domesticated Scripture to that standard. As a result, soundbites and cliches have become our preferred mode for approaching Scripture and all other things spiritual.

The problem is, Scripture wasn’t designed that way. Sure, isolated verses can certainly encourage us when they’re taped to our steering wheel or bathroom mirror. But oftentimes when we take a verse out of its Scriptural context, we do violence to it, because it was meant to be interpreted as part of a larger whole, not standing alone. What’s more, we are often reading Scripture in a way that it was not intended to be read. For instance, Jesus spoke in parables, not easy to digest soundbites, so in order to comprehend what he is talking about, and I mean *really* understand (not come up with a quick answer and move on) we must read the parable over and over and over again, and we must read the Old Testament passages Jesus was alluding to through it, and we must refer back to Jesus’ other sayings that shed light on this one. We must dwell in the Scripture, meditate on it, let it shape us every day. And only then, after it begins to mold our minds into conformity with Christ, do we even *begin* to understand what he was talking about.

But most of us are not patient enough for this. We want to know the answer now. We want the take-away message now. We’re too busy to invest that kind of time. But as a result of this mentality we have missed something. We have missed the reality that we are not the ones who get to consume Scripture–Scripture is to consume us. Scripture is not to submit to our schedule, or convenience, or opinions; we submit to Scripture. And it is only by living in Scripture, dwelling in one passage, studying its cultural context, its relationship to the whole of Scripture, its perspectives on Man, Christ, sin, love, and the world–only then will we begin to approach the tip of the iceberg of its meaning. The depths of Scripture have yet to be measured, and its wisdom is inexhaustible, so we deceive ourselves if we think we can dumb it down to cliches. One cannot plumb the depths of the ocean with a dixie cup.

So while there is indeed a time and a place for practical application and tangible lessons, shake things up a bit by resisting the urge to find an obvious take-away when you read Scripture. If we insist on approaching Scripture superficially, then we will only be superficially formed by Scripture, so we must be patient, and we must wait for it to form us, slowly yet steadily and entirely. The layers of Scripture are llike an infinite onion–the more you peel away, the more you will find, and the treasure is infinitely better than any bumper sticker I have ever seen. So pick a passage, and commit to it for an extended period of time. Memorize it, meditate on it, study it, and internalize it. The longer you do this, the more that it will unfold, and what still amazes me most is that the unfolding will never EVER end. Scripture presents us with an unending journey, so rather than resting contently as you drink from your spiritual sippy cup, it’s time to start acting like a big kid by taking in some solid, meaty theology. It takes some work, but only the meat will leave you feeling truly satisfied.

A couple nights ago I was watching a program that CNN did called “What Would Jesus Really Do?” The premise of the show was very interesting. They brought in all kinds of pastors to weigh in on what Jesus would be doing today if he was on earth. They talked to Rick Warren, Jerry Falwell, and T.D. Jakes, just to name a few. There was also a woman on the panel who pastors a church of 26,000 in Florida. Given that I had never heard of a woman pastoring a mega-church before, I immediately went to her website to check out what she believes. I have to say, I was disappointed. Even though she has clearly been very successful and is a powerful teacher, I was sad to learn that her teaching, as well as that of some of the other panelists on the show, was soft on doctrine. She seemed to be among the ranks of popular pastors today who tell people that God simply wants them to be happy. These church leaders are selling a touchy-feely Gospel for people who only need Jesus to make them feel better…conveniently over-looking the reality that taking up the cross and being crucified with Christ isn’t exactly a feel-good experience.

This kind of preaching is often referred to as “The Prosperity Gospel” since it can be boiled down to the idea that God’s main concern for us is to prosper. But before I get on my soap box, let me be the first to admit that it’s difficult to avoid the pitfalls of such a teaching. In women’s ministry, for instance, there is a great temptation to preach the prosperity Gospel because a lot of women need that message. A lot of women are wounded, and need healing and blessing. A lot of women don’t value themselves, and need to know that God loves them. A lot of women are barely surviving in life, and need to know that God wants them to live abundantly. For that reason, the “prosperity”element of the Gospel is indeed vital to women’s ministry.

Unfortunately, a lot of women, and a lot of Christians, stall out there. Suddently, discipleship and worship of God is not the end goal–me feeling good about myself and having a good life becomes the end goal. But while loving yourself is of course important, these gospels tend to be theologically anemic because they leave out the meat of the one, true Gospel: the cross. Throughout Scripture we see that, while God’s followers are definitely blessed, they also suffer. Jesus himself reminds us that following him means undergoing persecution, so if the gospel you’re preaching somehow leaves that part out, then it’s possible you have departed from the teachings of Jesus. You’re probably closer to the teachings of Oprah.

Suffering for Christ is a truly integral part of being a Christian. Why? For two reasons. First, we live in a sinful world. If your gospel does not involve suffering, then your gospel does not involve earth. Second, enduring suffering for the sake of Christ lends legitimacy to our words. We cannot profess with any kind of authenticity that we follow God “because His love is better than life” (Psalm 63:1), if we are not, in fact, willing to surrender our lives. Take Abraham, for example. The first time that the word “worship” appears in Scripture is right before Abraham goes to sacrifice his son, Isaac. I think it’s so remarkable that this gut-wrenching tale is our first account of worship! But why is worship associated with such a seemingly terrible situation? Because sacrifice is our truest, purest form of worship. When we sacrifice something, especially something dear to us, we attest to the reality that God IS greater than anything on earth. In sacrificing, we are not merely *saying* that God is greater than anything in the universe, but we are demonstrating it. Our actions should should line up with our words, and sacrifice is where we make that happen. It’s what Abraham did when he offered up Isaac, and it’s what we as Christians are also called to do.

For this reason, a gospel defined only by “health and wealth” is not a gospel we find in Scripture. Yes, the Gospel helps us combat the lies and the wounds that the world throws at us, but it also calls us to hardship. Christ was not “happy” or “smiley” when he was on the cross, but he was holy, so let us not forget that element of discipleship.

So when you hear ministers who talk excessively about “blessing” and “success” and “abundant life,” be on your guard, because those are the warnings signs that their theology doens’t go any further than “me, myself and I.” In those gospels, God is domesticated to the form of a psychologist in the sky, but God is not merely here to listen to your problems and make you feel better. He is here to wrench your eyes off of yourself and fix them on Him so that when you do walk through the valley of the shadow of death (and you will), your light will shine in the darkness, and He will be glorified. That’s the Gospel, so don’t settle for any lesser alternatives.

P.S. I would be interested to see what a women’s ministry that calls women to suffer for Christ would even look like….

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. –Romans 12:2

Recently I confronted a friend of mine who, I felt, was conforming her faith to the world. I thought that her friends had swayed her too greatly, that she was not no longer seeking holiness, but rather a lifestyle in which she could call herself a Christian, meanwhile living according to culture’s accepted standards. She agreed with me to some extent, but argued that her faith looks different to me because I live in the “Bible belt” where I am still sheltered. She, on the other hand, lives in a place where Christianity looks completely different. There was a nuance of resignation as she explained, “…but the more I get to know people, they’re just more concerned with their heart than they are their actions. Which doesn’t excuse them, it’s just that they totally think that messing up, screwing up, sinning, whatever you want to call it, is just part of life…” And so, my friend adapted to this line of thinking.

My first reaction to her response was sheer frustration. She had said her friends were more focused on their hearts than their actions, but Scripture tells us that our actions are an overflow of the heart. If your actions are falling short of God’s standard, they’re merely a reflection of the extent to which God has control over your heart.

And that is what I wanted to tell her—but I couldn’t. Every time I sat down to write her back, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I had many an eloquent thought concerning holiness, and grace, and passion, but every time I attempted to put it down, I looked inward and asked, “Does my life lend credibility to this argument?” The answer was of course “no.” I couldn’t tell her to shed her luke-warm Christianity and start living a life sold out for Christ, because I had not done so myself…

Ephesians tells us to avoid coarse joking, but I constantly employ sarcasm. The parable of the widow’s mite tells us to give sacrificially, but I still have enough money to drive an SUV and pay for the gas it wastes. Jesus tells us to forgive seventy times seven times, but how often I have held a grudge because I “deserved to be treated better.” And let’s not even get started on my road rage. The sins of greed, jealousy, pride, and gossip are all listed next to murder and God-haters, yet we only see the last two as being truly bad. The first four are much more acceptable by society’s standards. Yet is this what God desires of us?

Most of Paul’s letters were written to churches battling the prevailing moral standards of their time. The church of Corinth had been influenced by sexual immorality, the church in Ephesus was influenced by pagan religions, and the church of Galatia had been corrupted by false prophets. No church was immune to its culture’s practices, which is why Paul teaches the Romans, “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Paul is teaching us to be set apart. We will have zero credibility in today’s moral debates if the rest of our lives look exactly like the world’s. We have turned into buffet style Christians, picking and choosing from Scripture that suits our already comfortable lives. Yet the Bible is not a self-help book; it is a God glorifying, Lord magnifying, Christ exalting, “me” minimizing, divine work of supernatural revelation. The way we pick and choose from the Bible merely reflects our true sentiments on its authority. Yes, it is about the heart, but a heart wildly on fire for the Lord cannot be hidden. It should stand out!

So where does your heart stand? Is God truly the Ruler of your life, or just parts of it? In a world where we are combating moral relativism, we cannot afford to be relativists ourselves. But more importantly, we will never win hearts to Christ if Christ has not conquered ours. Is your life proof of this faith you profess?

He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet. –Proverbs 27:7

What an insightful picture of the fallen world before us! This simple verse describes the desperate state in which our lost brothers and sisters find themselves. We live in a world in which people are so lost and so alone, so hungry for truth, that they are grasping at straws, looking for anything that will satisfy their longings. They turn to money, success, sex and drugs, and to a spiritually starving person, these things all taste sweet…at first. But eventually they will be revealed to be the bitter and empty promises that they really are. They promise to fill, but they only leave one hungrier than they were before. God has placed an infinitely large hole in our hearts that can only be filled by an infinitely large God, so as long as we keep throwing finite objects into the hole, it will never be filled. And soon, we will find ourselves a slave to that endeavor. As we become more and more desperate for fullness, we grasp more and more frantically at bitter foods to quench our hunger. And the more that these bitter foods fail us, the more hopeless we become. What a wretched state for humanity!
But there is an alternative to this desperate state, and that is the prospect of being genuinely filled. God can fill that infinitely large hole in our hearts, and the frantic searching will end. In fact, those bitter foods that tempted us before will no longer look so appealing. What’s more, we won’t even be tempted to fill ourselves with the truly sweet things of this world, such a marriage and family. Although these things are good, they are nothing but honey when it comes to our spiritual nourishment. Honey is truly sweet, but it is no true sustenance. No one can live off of honey alone. So while we may partake of honey as a reflection of the sweetness of God, we cannot mistake it for our true sustenance—the bread of heaven. Those of us who live in Christ should loathe honey when it is substituted for our true, spiritual nourishment. We can see it for the empty nourishment that it is.
One who rests in Christ needs neither the bitter nor the sweet things of this world. We can certainly enjoy the sweet things if we remember they are merely a reflection of God’s love for us, but we should never depend on them for life. When it comes to renewing our souls, both honey and brackish water are one in the same—bitter and empty. That is what it means to be full in Christ—we want for nothing more than that which He provides. It is more than enough.

Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. –Psalm 91: 14-15

Whenever I read verses about God’s faithfulness to those who cling to Him, I always find myself feeling completely reassured. Since I “prayed the prayer” and committed my life to Christ way back when, I rest in the knowledge that all the promises contained in Scripture apply to me. He will deliver and protect me because I know His name, and he will rescue me in times of trouble, because I love Him. That’s a pretty nice set-up.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure it’s quite that clean cut. Yes, our salvation is guaranteed to us, so we can always trust that, ultimately, because we have made the decision to follow Christ, God will deliver us. But, salvation is more than that. It’s more than simply resting in the knowledge that God will one day save us. There is another aspect to salvation aside from the future aspect. There is also the present aspect, how our salvation is relevant today.

Philippians 2:12 tells us that we are to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling.” This does not mean that we have to earn our salvation, but it does mean that salvation is not merely a decision we made when we were ten. It’s also a decision we make every day. Every day when we wake up, we must once again make the decision to die to ourselves, and to follow Christ. Why? Because salvation is not merely about getting into heaven—it is also about being conformed to Christ, and that is a transformation that begins right now. We must always be actively seeking conformity to Christ. Working out your salvation means turning it into a visible reality through your life. Integrating your salvation into your being so thoroughly that it becomes your daily reality. Your salvation should define every breathe you take, every move you make.

So what does that mean when we read these passages that tell us God will deliver us since we have chosen Him? Well, we can read it on two different levels. We can read it as a reality that has already taken place, and will be fulfilled on Judgment Day when we face God and He declares us free, But we must also read it on the immediate level. Just because we are Christians does not mean life will always be easy, and that tragedies and betrayals will no longer hurt. Instead, it means we must continually run to Him when they do. God promises to comfort those who call on Him, but if we run to others, to material things, or to success when times are hard, then we aren’t living out the reality of our salvation, and we can’t expect God to comfort us.

Examine your daily life, and the circumstances that plague you, even the little things. When someone hurts you, do you run to a friend and slander the person to make yourself feel better? When you feel insecure, do you run to attention from guys to make comfort your self-esteem? If so, then when you read verses like Psalm 91:14-15, don’t be mystified when you don’t feel comforted by God in those difficult times. He’s not comforting you because you’re not calling on Him.

It’s not enough to make a decision one time, and go on with your life. Salvation is a lifestyle that requires every moment of our attention and energy. We must constantly be turning to the Lord in times of trouble, and even when times are good. Only then can we read these passages of encouragement, and rest in the knowledge that God blesses those who call on Him. And by that, He doesn’t mean once at an altar call—He wants every moment of every day.

Incline your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy. –Psalm 86:1

The Psalms are one of the greatest resources that Christians have when it comes to grief, discouragement, and despair. Whenever I’m feeling alone, or betrayed or hopeless, I turn to the Psalms, because there is always one that expresses the very agony I am feeling. Clearly they are the Word of God, because they truly express the groanings of my heart that I can never quite articulate.

However, it is not often that I turn to the Psalms of lament when I am doing well, and when life is good. This fact dawned on me one morning as I began to read Psalm 86. It starts out sounding much like man of the other Psalms of lament—alone and in desperate need of comfort. But this time, the words did not resound quite so clearly with my heart, so I was tempted to flip to another Psalm, one of rejoicing. I thought I should save Psalm 86 for another day when I did feel low. Not today, though.

But right before I flipped the page to find a different Psalm that reflected my blessed state in life, it struck me: the words of the first verse are no more or less true given my feelings. Whether I feel it or not, I am in a constant state of need. It just so happens that when I’m hurting due to the circumstances of my life, I feel that state of need more acutely, but the need never changes. We always need God, we are always helpless without Him. We must always cast ourselves upon His mercy if we at all desire to have true life.

But even more interesting to me is the danger in my initial attitude. The fact that I don’t turn to the Psalms of lament when I am doing well indicates how little I understand my state of need. I live under the illusion that there are times when I am fine on my own. God has become my back-up plan for when things get really bad. We tend to think that only nominal Christians do this sort of thing—turning to God on their death-bed or in times of crisis—but for all intents and purposes, many of us function in the same way. We need only look at our actions when life is good. When things are going our way, do we still come to God with the same desperation that we do in the hard times? I certainly don’t. I’ve bought into the lie that most nominal Christians have bought into—my life is my own, so I don’t need to worry about God except in extreme circumstances.

So before we judge the submarine Christians who only emerge for Easter and Christmas, we need to look at our own lives and seriously ask whether or not we are living the committing the same hypocrisy. We comfort ourselves in the knowledge that we’re not as bad as they are, but in comparison with the holy perfection of God, we suddenly look a lot more similar to the sinners than we do to Him. For this reason, I encourage you to commit Psalm 86:1 to memory. As these words of truth slowly begin to shape your mind and heart, perhaps we will then have a chance at living like we really mean it. Then, and only then, will we look more like disciples than instead of looking like the world.