Altar Calls
Altar calls. The very phrase takes me back to my grandfather’s Buick where we’d pile in on summer Sunday morning’s in the sleepy town of Roanoke, Virginia and journey to their African Methodist Episcopal church. Sitting on those hard pews in my stuffy three piece suit, I’d always wondered why the pastor preached about such a big God who could do incredible things, but when it came time to get saved they only put two chairs out.
Two? Is that all you were expecting.
Half the time they wouldn’t even fill half of what they were believing this big God for.
Altar calls.
When I went off to Bible college and started to get “grown” in my faith this relic of my past took on a moth-ball kind of texture. Reading a few books about God’s sovereignty, and getting acquainted with the likes of Calvin and his theological progeny made me really believe altar calls were my grandfather’s Buick- a car now acquainted with old men who wore Old Spice, sat in barbershops all day playing checkers.
Altar calls.
My sophisticated and hip perspective was jolted in the mid nineties when I served on staff at a church that did them regularly. I couldn’t believe what I saw every Sunday I served:
About a hundred came to the altar every week.
The average age of the church was around 28.
It was in the heart of Los Angeles, not the Bible belt.
And no they weren’t responding to emotional manipulation, or some hip sermon that was rooted more in the New York Times or latest movie. They were reacting to what a thoroughly exposited text had just exposed, and the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
My wife was one of those who came down to get saved. Almost nineteen years later I can tell you what happened at that altar on that December day was no emotional fluke.
Altar calls.
You won’t see the phrase in the Bible, but if by those two words you mean people publicly pledging their allegiance to Jesus it’s all through the New Testament.
Jesus called people to follow him, and most times he did so publicly.
The book of Acts is riddled with the disciples making appeals for people to publicly follow Jesus.
The Day of Pentecost.
The Gentile Pentecost of Acts 10.
Etc.
I recently took over a church where I inherited their tradition of altar calls. Sure, I’ve got a growing list of things I’d love to change at our church, but these two words aren’t on that list, and I’m not sure they ever will be. Relax. I’m not saying altar calls are a have to. But, and I think this is the most important reason why I’m going to hold onto this rich tradition, altar calls are a glorious, visible, corporate demonstration of the power of the Holy Spirit moving among the people.
I think I’ll say that again:
Altar calls are a glorious, visible, corporate demonstration of the power of the Holy Spirit moving among the people.
I think the reason why the church in Acts exploded is because there was this visible, corporate, glorious sense that something was happening there. You saw people get saved. You saw people repent and burn their books. You saw the Spirit at work. This sensory experience created a buzz. Something was happening here.
In our individualized Western culture, we rob people of the blessing of seeing the Spirit move corporately when we privatize His work in order to not put anyone on the spot.
Of course people can get saved without walking the aisle. See Nicodemus.
And it’s also important to know that the response to the altar call is not the Nielson Ratings on the pastors sermon and how well or poor it was. So we pastors have to get our egos out of the way.
Beyond those two words see the principle. Pastors, our people have a need to see and know the Holy Spirit is at work not just in them, but in His church. Christianity is not individual, it’s communal as well. What venue at your church affords this opportunity for people to see and sense and celebrate the march of the Holy Spirit among the people?
Bryan LorittsLead Pastor, Abundant LifeAuthor, Saving the SavedPresident, Kainos Movement
Figure It Out
Legalism happens when we try to micro-apply God’s standard of holiness. I was sucker punched by this thought when I studied I Peter 1:15 just the other week, in preparation for preaching: “But as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct.”
What does in all your conduct mean? Please tell me more. Spell it out for me.
Should I delete Jay-Z and other “secular” music from my iTunes?
No more Rated R movies?
What about PG-13?
Is five miles over the speed limit acceptable?
What about wiping down my sweaty bike at the end of spin class? I’d been convicted about that, but is that more legalism?
I’m reminded of what Pastor Tom Nelson says, “We Christians would rather have a rule than to think”.
I think he’s onto something. Reading the Bible I’m becoming more awed by how little God actually spells things out.
In the garden he only gave Adam and Eve a handful of rules:
Exercise dominion over and cultivate the garden.
Be one with each other.
Of all the trees in the garden, there’s only one you can’t eat of.
Sure there’s Leviticus with its mind numbing details on what they could and couldn’t eat, touch, etc, but that’s under a theocratic form of government, and those ceremonial laws no longer apply (i.e. Acts 10).
When it comes to the moral law, however, there’s only ten commandments. Ten.
Jesus actually said there’s only two real rules- Love God and love others.
I think when we do these two things Jesus said, we set the stage to just figure it out.
Jesus also said we have the Holy Spirit who will guide us. In other words, it’s the Holy Spirit’s job- not the preachers, or other Christians ultimately- to help us figure it out.
At the first church council in Acts 15, the apostles said new Gentile converts should abstain from food offered to idols, and avoid sexual immorality. Why did they convene? Because some Christians were trying to micro-apply what it means to be holy to new believers.
Figure it out, is an apt three word description for the rest of the New Testament as it relates to rules.
When pressed by the Romans as to whether or not they should eat certain foods, Paul refused to micro-apply holiness. Instead he gave some thirty-five thousand foot perspective:
Honor each other.
Follow your conscience
Let God speak
In other words, figure it out.
If you’re looking for answers about whether or not you can listen to Kendrick Lamar, the most you’ll find in the Scriptures is this offering from Paul:
“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if thee is anything worthy of praise, think about these things”- Philippians 4:8.
Figure it out.
I Peter 1:15 is really a beautiful verse, but it gets mangled when we preachers, parents and well intentioned Christ-followers try to descend from the thirty-five thousand admonition and micro-apply exactly what that means to others. For sure, God is saying Christians should be different, but we need to give each other a lot of latitude as to how that looks.
For me, God is speaking to me at the gym about wiping the sweat off my bike. It’s a subtle way I can look different (unfortunately, it’s not a common communal habit). I also don’t feel the freedom to listen to about 95% of Jay-Z’s songs because he likes to call himself “J-Hova”. But the moment I stand up and say to my congregation that holiness means every Christian has to wipe off their gym equipment, and delete Jay-Z from their iTunes I’ve now overstepped my bounds.
That’s the Holy Spirit’s job.
Thankfully, I’m not him.
Figure it out.
Exiles
It’s August. My house doesn’t have air conditioning, and I don’t need it a bit. If God is looking for a climate to set heaven to, I’m sure he’s taken a hard look at that stretch of the 101 freeway that runs from San Francisco to San Jose.
But more than the climate there’s the palm trees, mountains and ingenuity. There’s an intellectual energy, a creative force that permeates the place. Driving down the street taking it all in it’s easy to think, “Mama I’ve made it”.
A recent CBS News report agrees. In a survey ranking the top ten most desirable places to live in the United States, San Jose ranked tenth and San Francisco 9th- the two bookends to the 101 corridor. Living along this stretch it’s easy to think we’re in heaven.
But we’re not. Peter’s words in his first letter serve as great reminders to we American Christians, especially to those of us living in pockets of the country that have made top ten lists: “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to those who are elect exiles of the Dispersion…” (I Peter 1:1a). Peter calls us exiles.
The Greek word for “exile” has an oxymoronic feel to it- it literally means a close stranger. It’s the Old Testament equivalent of sojourner; today we’d use the word immigrant. It’s someone from one country, who lives in another, yet it’s obvious they’re not from here. That’s the idea of an exile. Implicit in the word is the notion that this world is not quite home for us. We’re from another place.
This is a good word for us. We’re not from here. As Paul would say to the Philippians, “Our citizenship is in heaven” (3:20). We are journeying onward towards another city, as the writer of Hebrews would say (13:14).
Don’t misunderstand me, nor the writers of Scripture: To be an exile does not equal being uncaring towards people or the environment. God told Israel during the Babylonian exile to build houses, dwell in them and seek the welfare of their city (Jeremiah 29). Christians should fight cancer, engage in the political process and, yes, even pay careful attention to recycle (A point I’ve been made especially aware of living in Northern California).
But to be an exile also means to not get too enamored with this world. Exiles should have a soul level dissonance keeping them from exhaling to themselves, “Mama, I made it”. Exiles intuitively know this life is not all there is.
The more I think about it, there are several things we do to keep our focus on our real home. These practices remind us of our exile-ness (to make up a word):
Constant communication with our true home. Exiles pray. The act of deep, abiding, consistent prayer is one of the best ways to keep an exiles perspective.
Different. Not much longer after calling his audience exiles, Peter would call them to holiness. To be holy means to be different. Exiles are different. In the natural they talk different, have different customs and practices. They are a peculiar people.
UCLA’s great coach, John Wooden, was an exile. Born and raised in the midwest, he was the poster child for conservative, midwestern values, and these values caused him to stick out once he uprooted and moved to Los Angeles. The only “profanity” he was ever heard to say was, “Goodness gracious sakes alive”. When his duties required him to go to cocktail parties, he would raise more than a few eyebrows as he nursed his Ginger Ale, refusing to drink. And coaching in some of the most combustible times like the sixties and early seventies, his conservative roots led him to be pegged “old fashioned,” and out of style. Wooden lived in Los Angeles, but it was clear he wasn’t from Los Angeles. When it was all said and done he accomplished historic amounts of success, and had people dying to learn from him.
To be an exile is not to be a loser, nor is it an eccentric form of people repellent. Wooden teaches us this. While not at home we can be winsome, and even successful by the worlds standards without becoming enamored with it. This is a good word for me during times like August when words like “hot" or “humid" carry no meaning, and air conditioning is irrelevant. I’m just passing through, on my way to my true home. I hope along the way I raise a few eyebrows myself, and point people to God.
The “Dreaded Glenn”: A Response to Ms. Gaye Clark
I want to take a few moments to respond to Ms. Gaye Clark’s article posted by The Gospel Coalition, where she offers advice to our white siblings whose children are in interracial relationships. She writes this in response to the surprise she felt when her white daughter brought home a black man donning dreads named Glenn. It’s important for me to say I found her insights to be very well intentioned. I really do believe she gave it the proverbial college try. She shot her best shot. But, the article is misinformed.
Her words bore the aroma of reformed theology and were laced with historical references and the requisite John Piper quote. All standard fare for a blogpost by my beloved friends at The Gospel Coalition. While I do say this with a degree of tongue in cheek, I feel compelled to wade into her insights out of a conviction of mine that some of the most dangerous and divisive threats to the Christian faith and well being are those that seem the most harmless.
Since Ms. Clarke takes us back parenthetically to 1967, maybe I should begin there. This was the year the landmark film, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” came out. As you know this was to many a scandalous work, diving headlong into the subject of interracial marriage, as Spencer Tracey (It would be his last film) and Katherine Hepburn’s San Francisco based characters are thrust into the subject, when their daughter comes home with a black man (played by Sidney Poitier). After initial shock and hesitancy (especially on the part of the dad), they come around and finally embrace him, and you’re left in awe of this “courageous and progressive” white couple who would stand so big while stooping so low as to accept a black man. Think about it- in 1967 a mark of being what we would now call progressive, is accepting a black person. So once the final credits roll what are we left thinking? Oh those great and wonderful white people. Boy isn’t that big of them to accept us. They’re the real protagonist’s, the real heroes, of this story.
And that’s exactly how I felt reading Ms. Gaye Clark’s article. Now whether or not she meant to do that is not the point. I fully believe this was not her intention. But I can’t help it, there is just an air of arrogance and paternalism here. One can easily leave thinking, “Well isn’t that just kind and big of her. This white woman accepting this black man, dreads and all?” It’s this subtlety that actually undermines Ms. Clark’s purpose. Instead of trying to fight against inequality, she actually entrenches it by unintentionally posturing herself as the Katherine Hepburn of this modern day, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”.
But there’s more. Now why is it that we would expect a white person to coach other white people on how to accept a black person into their family, but not expect black people to coach other black people on how to accept Heidi (started to say Becky, but that’s already been taken) into their home? The racially biased innuendo here is that we need to help the “superior” in how to embrace the “inferior”.
One of my sons in the ministry is not only African American but is a richly deep dark chocolate complexion. He and his black wife foster. Not too long ago they fostered a young white girl who immediately took to them, and even called him daddy. With roars of laughter he regaled us of tales of being in some store in their small southern town, and his daughter calling from across the aisle, “Daddy!” while all the white folk looked on with shock and horror. You know why they were shocked. The same reason why we don’t see black folk going on missions trips posting pictures on FaceBook of that impoverished white baby they’re holding: For the historically “inferior,” to help the historically “superior,” is counter-cultural and counter-intuitive. So Ms. Clark’s article only helps to buttress the long running historically sad narrative that white folk need help in embracing the “Dreaded Glenn’s” of the world.
If I were to give Ms. Clark a mulligan, I’d want to see more humility from her. I’d want her to put pen to the culturally conditioned consternation that was in her soul that lead to her surprise when Glenn came to her home for dinner. Why were you surprised and implicitly filled with an initial angst? What forces were at work in your own experience that made this even a significant issue for you? Oh yes they were there for you, just like they are for all of us. I want to hear more about that. Pull us into that pilgrimage.
And, given the reformed undertones of her article, which I love by the way, shouldn’t Ms. Clark’s “Big God Theology,” lead to a robust anthropology. She writes of accepting Glenn as if it was a part of God’s permissive will and not his perfect will. I mean she actually talks about the need to rejoice in the trial. Is that what we are now? A trial? Seen in this light, her eight pieces of advice seem more like strategies in how to cope with some incurable forms of arthritis- you know something you can’t get rid of, but you can take something to make you more comfortable with this less than ideal situation. Oh how my heart breaks.
As if this isn’t enough she pleads with our white siblings to show patience with the white bigots in their family who won’t accept the “Dreaded Glen”. Patience with racist’s. Now this has been the historical christian narrative in this country. This is the very reason why MLK wrote his prison epistle, Letter From a Birmingham Jail, to white clergy (many Christians), who like Ms. Clark pleaded patience. No, what we need is a kind of awkward prophetic courage that has the biblical audacity to call this stuff out around the Thanksgiving table, forcing cousin (and probably deacon) Jim to turn red, and abruptly leave the table to use the bathroom for his nonsense.
If you sense some passion in me it’s because like the “Dreaded Glenn,” my mother-in-law is white. But unlike Ms. Clark, my white, Irish mother-in-law is at best a very private person of faith who occasionally (as far as we know) goes to church. Sure we got off to a bumpy start but that was never about race. She just profoundly loved me, loves our ti-racial children, and has never used me as a teachable moment for some blog she’d write on how to help her white siblings to cope with a trial like me. And for that matter, my black parents never asked me to be a show and tell item to the evangelical world to announce how progressive they were in accepting my beloved Korie and her Irish and Mexican sides of the family. Oh yes, white folk aren’t the only one’s who can struggle with accepting what MLK called the beloved other.
Permit me one more moment. Why would our friends at The Gospel Coalition publish this? Are they bigots? Hardly. I know many of them and they love Jesus, but some of the many are likewise misinformed. Ms. Clark’s heart felt piece is a very dangerous one that can perpetuate a kind of narcissistic, evangelical paternalistic imperialism cloaked in white garb. Next time I’d love to have her article coupled with the “Dreaded Glenn’s” insights, or better yet his folks. We need a multiethnic tribe of voices wading in to this piece. It’s in that eclectic cohort and conversation that somewhere in the midst of it all truth can be found.
The Kingdom of God on Your Street/In Your Apartment Building
D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said that if aChristian moved out of their neighborhood and no one felt a sense of loss, hewondered if that person was ever legitimately saved? Strong words, I know, butsobering.
Our family is settling into our newNorthern California neighborhood, and all that comes with it—meeting newneighbors, figuring out grocery stores and vetting potential barbers. Amidstall the newness plays an old familiar question in our souls as we walk thesidewalks, “How can we bring the kingdom to this rustic neighborhood populatedby old Victorian homes?” Of course this question leads to another moreessential one, “What exactly is the kingdom?”
Jesus shows us in Matthew 9:35, “AndJesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagoguesand proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and everyaffliction.” In this one verse, we see the kingdom is both preaching ANDhealing; it addresses the physical AND the spiritual; the body AND thesoul.
We Christians have made this simple,comprehensive question of the kingdom so complex and messy. Someone once saidthe mark of brilliance is the ability to make the complex simple. Well, ifthat’s true, then the mark of idiocy is the ability to make the simple complex.Historically, the church hasn’t been too bright. During the fundamentalist/modernistsplit of the early 20th century, the fracture took place over this veryquestion of the kingdom with one side saying it’s essentially preaching, andthe other countering with the kingdom being more about the body and issues ofjustice and care. During the civil rights movement, it was the church whomarched in the streets, standing up against injustice, and it was the churchwho sat in the pews, at the same time, listening to truth and giving altar callsfor people to get saved. A few years ago, there were some aspects of the churchwho were content to sit in bars, smoking a cigar and dropping a few expletivesin jest as they took a break from reading the latest Brian McLaren book to formcommunity with “pre-Christians.” While at the same time, hoards of Christians chosethe cognitive route, rediscovering Calvin, and trying (and mostly failing) tomake their way through his Institutes.
Whatis the kingdom?
Asis often the case, Jesus presents us a third way, a way not marked by aneither/or scenario, but a both/and posture. The Jesus of the gospels would’vecalled people to repentance in church on Sunday, then jetted out the back doorto march for voter rights in Selma. Jesus would go to the backyard party overmy neighbor’s house, miraculously cause cases of the best wine to appear,blessing everyone there, and then proceed to preach an extemporaneous sermoninviting people into the joy of the kingdom.
Bodyand soul. Physical and spiritual. Feeding and proclaiming. This is the kingdom.
Sowhat does it mean for us to bring the kingdom to our neighborhood? A fewthoughts come to mind:
1. Mindful. I need to be mindful that God hasplanted our family on that block for a much bigger reason than a good investment,or safety and security. What if God wants us to be the chaplains of our street?I need to be mindful of this.
2. Presence. The house we bought doesn’t have agarage, and I’m kind of glad about that. It makes it much easier to interactwith our neighbors. Already our family has taken long walks, and on the waywe’ve met some people and had some great conversations. There’s just somethingabout being out among the people. Jesus modeled this well.
3. Seek. What if Korie and I started to seek fortangible ways to bless others in our neighborhood? Gifts. Invitations.Cookouts. Help. All of this is in the category of Jesus healing and feeding.
4. Pray. While we’re helping to get the mail ofour neighbors who’ve left town for a week, why not pray for them and othersthat God would save their souls.
5. Proclaim. Picking up mail is part of bringing thekingdom, but to do so without proclaiming how their deepest needs are met inthe person of Jesus Christ is only half the story. Yes we need to be carefulhere. We don’t want to do the old bait and switch and make people feel as ifour kindness is setting them up for a punch line. But people need to hear thegood news. I want my street to come to know Jesus. How can they come to believewithout hearing?
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The Emotionally Healthy Leader:Seven Reflections
This week,I finished Pete Scazzero’s TheEmotionally Healthy Leader, and it couldn’t come at a better time for me. Asmany of you know, I recently took over as Lead Pastor for Abundant Life inSilicon Valley, California. After some prayerful consideration, Korie and I,along with our elders, thought it would be good for me to begin my role inMarch, which meant a season of commuting back and forth from New York, untilour kids finish school. As you can imagine, the pace of our life has picked uptremendously, and trying to find some semblance of emotional health is a matterof life and death for me and our family. Pete’sbook ministered deeply to my soul and, as I devoured its pages, I found myselfreflecting on seven guiding principles—that I either need to return to orbegin—if I am going to lead from more than just competence, but a deep innerwell:
1. “To thyown self be true.” No I’mnot talking here of a radical individualism that places ourselves in the centerof the universe and leaves God out at the periphery. Instead, I need to be comfortable in how Godhas uniquely wired me. Words and phrases—like introverted, morning person,reader, loves to study, reflective—come to mind here. I get my energy being alone. If I go through periods thatare all people with no significant times for solitude, my soul shrivels. In themidst of this busy season, I’ve got to find times to pull away. What about you?How are you wired? What gives you energy?
2. Margin. Reading Pete’s book, I found myself at timesreflecting back on Dr. Richard Swenson’s gem, Margin, where he defines margin as the space between our load andour limits. If we don’t have these gaps, we won’t know what Pete describes asemotional health. To paraphrase, Pete, in one of his passages, either wevoluntarily find margin, or margin will forcibly find us.
3. Sabbathdelight. Here, I’m not paraphrasingPete, but I’m using his exact verbiage. While I’ve attempted periods of Sabbathin the past, I felt both challenged and inspired to make Sabbath delight aregular part of my weekly rhythm. To point two, this will create that regularmargin in my life. Six p.m. Friday to six p.m. Saturday has been good for me. I’vereally enjoyed shutting it down. No social media, emails or work. Just rest,enjoyment and focusing on God. I canfeel something going on within as I emerge from Sabbath, something I can’t yetput into words, but it’s marvelous.
4. Heartcheck. Pete talks a lot about theimportance of processing your feelings in real time. This concept was foreignto me until I read Chip Dodd’s Voices ofthe Heart some years ago, where he talks in detail about being in tune withour feelings, something many men struggle with. For several years, I was in amen’s group where we used Dodd’s model to think through our feelings and toarticulate them. The residual of this left me with an ongoing conversation I constantlyhave with myself as things happen to me in real time. Now, I “feel” as if I’mno longer just leading from competence, but am able to connect my head with myheart, which enables me to connect better with others.
5. Youcan’t give what you don’t have. Muchof my preaching and teaching and leading in my younger days was me merelyparroting what some expert, or well known deceased preacher said. I spoke inplagiarized one-sentence zingers, and came across as if I was deep, but it wasa façade. If I could go back and have some sushi with my twenty-something-self,I would make a heartfelt plea to cultivate an inner life that dives deeply withGod, pouring over the Scriptures and lingering through prayer in His presence. Thisis where real power comes, not by dragging off of someone else’s walk with God.
6. Keepturning back to the “History Channel.” Petetalks a lot about being aware of how your family of origin has impacted you. Weare all born and raised into a context, with each family marking us for goodand for bad. And so it is with me, and while I won’t divulge any details here,I was reminded of some things that have impacted me negatively that I must workthrough.
7. Lead outof your marriage. Thereal test of my emotional health is not in the church, but in the home. I’vealways felt the moment my wife could no longer sit on the front row and listento me preach was the day I needed to quit the ministry. But what’s more is that Pete talks aboutemotional health, not just for the husband engaged in vocational ministry, buthis wife as well. Church impacts both Korie and me. In one of those recent “whatif,” conversations, I asked Korie if she would marry another pastor if I died?I won’t tell you her answer, but I will say that lead into a very insightfulconversation on the pressures of ministry and church on the spouse. Pete’sjourney with his bride, Geri, into emotional health, revealed to me that I needto venture down this road with Korie.
I highlycommend The Emotionally Healthy Leaderto you. It’s one of those rare books that speak to your soul. Whatever yourseason of life, no matter how busy or relaxed you may be, it’s well worth yourtime.
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The One Reason You Should Get To Church On Time
If there’s one thing my years leadingmultiethnic churches have taught me is there’s no such thing as CPT when itcomes to getting to church on time (Yeah, if you don’t know what that is, askyour chocolate friend). Whites struggle with it. So do blacks. Asians.Hispanics. Everybody. No ethnicity has a monopoly on tardiness and the House ofGod. Recently, one agitated, seasonedsaint in my church begged me to rebuke the people for their lateness rightbefore I got up to preach. Being the new guy, I passed…for now. I want to beginmy ministry on a note of exhortation and not rebuke, but the day will come(Whom am I kidding—the days willcome), when I will need to lovingly remind God’s people to do thecounter-cultural thing, and get to church in a timely manner.
Sure, you’re thinking, “Pretty self serving ofa pastor to plead with people to show up on time to ‘his thing’,” but actually,it’s not my thing, it’s God’s. Andwhile I could provide a list as to why you should—rambling on about how itshows respect to the worship participants who have spent significant time inrehearsals and preparation, along with how we’ll show up to work and our kids’activities on time—let me provide just one reason you should.
As a preacher, it’s momentarily flattering whenpeople tell me they’re there for the Word.While I take this as a vote of confidence in the gifts God has given me,the longer I reflect on this statement, the more I see the selfishnessinvolved. Just about every church has two major elements: worship andpreaching. Worship is what we give to God—through our singing and giving (amongother elements)—the Word is what God gives to us. Show me anyone who skips outon a major part of the worship experience to just get the Word, I’ll show you aperson who has incarnated a consumer spirit that is wreaking havoc on theAmerican church. What in essence a person is saying when they miss a major partof the worship, just to receive, is that church, and therefore God, is allabout them, and what they can get out of it. Let’s call it what it is—nauseatingnarcissism (to be frank). Conversely, when we get there on time, and trulyworship God by singing to Him, we go to war with the gravitational pull ofconsumerism, and tell God we’re not in it just for us.
Why should you get to church on time? Becauseyou view church as not just a venue to receive, but to give as well. Spirituallymature believers don’t view God in utilitarian terms, but see Him as someoneworthy to give their all to.
Let’s get to church on time.
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Jonah: When God Loves You Enough to Interrupt You
If youknow anything about the NFL, you know there’s a provision made that severaltimes a game one of the head coaches can throw a red flag onto the field andquestion a certain call. When the coach does this, he’s pretty much saying the judgmenton the field was not right, and they need to re-evaluate the decision. Manytimes these challenges will altar the game, changing an interception into anincompletion, or a set back into a first down.
Challengesare interruptions. When that red flag is thrown, everything stops and thingsare re-evaluated and often times re-routed. I read recently there’s an actualproposal on the table to give coaches the right to challenge every play. There’sno chance that’s going to happen. People don’t like interruptions.
Neitherdo I. I hate getting interrupted. Ask my kids. It’s not a good thing if theytry to cut in while their mother and I are having a conversation or on thephone. Interruptions like canceled flights and flat tires drive me up a wall. Butthe older I get, the more I’m warming up to the idea that interruptions arejust part and parcel of what it means to be human.
Interruptionsare also how God works. He cuts in on Abram (Later to be called Abraham),calling an audible and telling him to leave his home. God shows up abruptly toMoses through a burning bush, re-routing him back to Egypt. And on a Damascusroad, Jesus blinds Saul, transforming him from a persecutor to a preacher. Godhas an uncanny habit of interrupting us.
Thisweek we start a new series at ALCF on the life of Jonah. There’s no way we canunderstand him without getting our arms around a God who interrupts. Thedictionary defines the term interrupt as tocause to make a break in continuity. To interrupt is to break away from thenorm. We see this immediately with Jonah. God tells him to go one way, Jonahgoes another, and God interrupts him by sending a storm and a whale to get himback on course. No, God didn’t interrupt Jonah to be mean or vindictive. Infact, God’s interruption of Jonah was actually the most loving, kind andgracious thing he could do. Think about it. If Jonah doesn’t get interrupted byGod, he has no real legacy outside of the one other verse in which he’smentioned in the Bible (When Jesus mentions him in other places it’s inconnection with the book of Jonah). We’re talking about Jonah today onlybecause of God’s gracious interruption in his life.
WhatJonah teaches us is that there is a direct relationship between the legacy ofour faith, and our willingness to embrace God’s interruptions in our lives. Thepeople I mentioned before—Abraham, Moses and Saul—are all men we continue tolook to for guidance. Why? Well, let me say it this way: I don’t think we’retalking about any of them, if they had not yielded to God’s gracious interruptions.If we want a life that really counts trans-generationally, we must be willing tobend to God’s interruptions. This is the lesson of Jonah.
Why doesGod interrupt us? How do I know He’s interrupting me? What are some practicalways that I can respond to God’s interruptions? We’ll begin to answer thesequestions this week at Abundant Life. If you’re not a part of our church, youcan track with us via podcast.
I’m soexcited to share this word with you, beginning this week.
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