Showing posts with label resurrection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label resurrection. Show all posts

Thursday, September 29, 2016

A Christian Politic- Part 1



It's 2016--election year--and countless Christians have been weighing in with their opinions on candidates, policies, and the direction of our democracy for months now. So as this season draws to an end, I figured now would be a good time to offer my philosophy of politics. I try to avoid frequent political posts (although have made more recently since it's an election year), but the following explanation will detail how to understand my perspective when I do make political comments.


Before I explain where my political view comes from, I want to make a quick note about this post's title. I titled it "A Christian Politic," not "THE Christian Politic" because that is all this is--one possible philosophy. There are as many "Christian" approaches to politics as there are Christian denominations, and as much as I believe my perspective best adheres to a Jesus-centered, Bible-informed politic, I leave room for others to disagree and come to different conclusions. I won't claim any monopoly on the truth here.  This explanation will come in three parts (so come back for parts 2 and 3 over the next few days), but in this first post I want to outline the fundamental values of my political perspective.

The first thing that must be noted is that my political views are primarily formed by my faith. This is the foundation. My politics do not begin with a secular ideology (conservatism, libertarianism, progressivism, etc.), but are Christocentric in nature. In other words, you cannot understand my politics without understanding the core tenets of my faith. So, what are those core tenets within my theology?

While I could spend pages and pages trying to detail my theology, I'll try to limit this discussion to the most political of my theological concepts: the "Kingdom of God."  In recent years my faith has been profoundly shaped by the Bible's talk about the "Kingdom of God." This theological concept has radically redefined my ecclesiology, eschatology, and the very language of faith I use. In fact, it has redefined how I view the "Gospel" itself. I tend to follow Scot McKnight in arguing that the "Gospel" is not simply the "plan of salvation" that centers on the cross. Rather, the "Gospel" is the "good news" that God is reclaiming his Lordship over his creation and establishing his Kingdom on earth through the person of Jesus Christ (see McKnight's book "King Jesus Gospel" for a much more detailed explanation).

For those less familiar with this idea, what do I mean by the "Kingdom of God"? Simply put, the "Kingdom of God" refers to the reign of God. It is the space/time where heaven and earth are "married" together (to borrow language from NT Wright).  Or, to wrap this idea in the story of Scripture: God created a good world and ruled over it as King. Humanity was created as His image-bearers to carry out His will in His Kingdom. However, our sin marred this good creation and turned humanity into traitors. Since then, humanity has attempted to bring back this blissful state lost in the Fall, but without success. Israel was chosen as a "kingdom of priests," called to be a outpost declaring the Kingship of God to a fallen world, but they also failed. Jesus is the completion of this story. Jesus, as God, entered our world, preached "the Gospel of the Kingdom" (Lk. 4:43), and was declared King through His death, resurrection, and ascension. King Jesus has defeated sin and evil and has initiated the return of His Kingdom to earth. This Kingdom will be fully consummated one day in the future at Jesus' "appearing" (parousia).

Now all this talk about a "King" and a "Kingdom" is inherently political language and leads to the first major concept of my political view--my primary citizenship is not to America. This seems like quite a backward statement to make for an American political view, but there it is. As Paul succinctly puts it, "our citizenship is in heaven" (Phil. 3:20). This is one reason why I've recently begun to shy away from saying the American pledge of allegiance--it would be a lie for me to do so. To swear "allegiance" is to promise loyalty and devotion to something above all other things. But the truth is I've already sworn my allegiance to another Kingdom, and the values of this Kingdom and of my earthly country will eventually and frequently clash. Yes, I could swear my allegiance to America, but I would be doing so with the knowledge that a time will come when I will choose God's Kingdom over America. Do I love my nation? Yes, but not more than my Lord. Do I want to serve my nation and help it achieve greatness? Yes, but not if it's at the expense of God's Kingdom. I may be a citizen of both countries, but my allegiance can only lie with one.

This tenet of my political view has countless practical implications. Most notably, when I am considering candidates or policies, I am not looking for those options that will best benefit me, or even those that will improve America for America's sake. Rather, I am looking for the people and policies that best reflect the values of God's Kingdom and will help society to better reflect those values as well (more on this below). This does not mean I put my faith in government, nor am I looking for a "Christian nation," but these values nonetheless inform my political decision-making.

The next question becomes, "What are the values of God's Kingdom?" The answers to this question are probably what make my view unique in our current political climate. This question alone could be an entire book, and indeed such books have been written. But for my purposes here, perhaps the shortest way to sum up the Kingdom's values is to point to the two most important events in the Christian story--the Cross and the Resurrection. Let me explain these one at a time.


First, I believe the cross is more than simply a place where our sins were forgiven (although it is that too). The cross is also a powerful call to discipleship. Jesus makes this clear in His command to "take up your cross and follow Me" (Mark 8:34). I also see this mentality all throughout the writings of Paul, but he perhaps best sums up a cross-shaped discipleship in two places--1 Corinthians 1-3 and Philippians 2.

In the first chapters of 1 Corinthians, Paul critiques the Corinthians' tendency to create divisions and idolize certain teachers. To counter their unchristian behavior, Paul goes into a detailed discussion of how God's wisdom and power are revealed in the foolishness and weakness of the cross.  Jesus was ridiculed as foolish, weak, and shameful because of the cross, but we as Christians know that this place of failure was actually one of God's greatest successes. Paul then stresses that Christians ("little Christs") are a people of the cross. If Jesus found wisdom and power in the form of weakness, foolishness, and humility, then we shouldn't rely on worldly "strength" or "wisdom" either. Later in 1 Corinthians this attitude will lead Paul to say we should live by "love" and even be willing to sacrifice our rights for the sake of others. Philippians 2 similarly outlines how we are to have the "same mind" as Jesus. What did Jesus do? He "took the form of a servant" and "made himself nothing" by "becoming obedient" even to the point of death.

Now compare that to our culture and to typical American politics. The goal of our society is to gain more, become more powerful/influential, brag about your strengths, demand your rights, and defeat our enemies. We don't see humility as a strength among politicians. In fact, we condemn our representatives and candidates for "apologizing" for our country. We might talk of wanting politicians to "serve" our country, but what we really want is for them to lead us with power, strength, and might. These same mentalities have led to an extremely polarized political climate. We can't even listen to the other side or EVER admit that any of "their" ideas are good because just giving them the time of day is seen as a "compromise" of our "values." Humility and servanthood are weaknesses.

However, my political view is shaped by the cross. This means I start from a place of humility. I recognize I am no better than my political opponent because I am just as in need of grace as him or her. I also recognize that true strength and wisdom are not defined by the world. They are defined by God, and what God declares is powerful often looks like "weakness" to my culture. What God says is wise often looks "idiotic" or "naive" to onlookers. After all, who would believe that a poor man executed as a traitor could be crowned as King and overcome the evil powers of the world through that execution?

Thus, my cross-shaped politics lead me to seek certain policies and attitudes because I am convinced they are closer to what God's Kingdom looks like. For example, I want to discourage military force in national policy as much as possible not because of some liberal, "bleeding-heart" sentimentality, but rather because I've pledged my allegiance to a King who said "love your enemies" and who died for all people, including foreigners . Or, I am willing for our country to do more for illegal immigrants and refugees because I believe we can afford to suffer and pay a little for the sake of showing compassion to "the least of these." Or, I abstain as much as I can from personal attacks and try to give the person speaking the benefit of the doubt not because I am "wishy-washy" or lack convictions, but rather because a central conviction of mine is to be ruled by humility. These are not easy positions to hold, and they may not always work "practically," but the point is not whether they "work," but whether they are "right" in God's eyes.


The second key event that informs my doctrine of politics is the Resurrection of Jesus. The Resurrection is the pinnacle of Jesus' life on earth. It is the moment when heaven and earth collided in a visceral way. In the Resurrection, Jesus is vindicated as the King over the universe, and God's saving act of bringing heaven to earth is begun. In the Resurrection, the ancient enemy of Death is defeated as Jesus embodies the future of His redeemed world.

This impacts my political view in multiple ways. First, it reminds me that Jesus is my rightful master, and that He sits on the throne above the American kingdom. I sometimes hear Christians say, "At least we can take comfort knowing that Jesus is still on the throne." However, what bugs me about this comment is that people only really say it when something has gone wrong for them: "Well, we didn't get our candidate into office, but at least Jesus is still King." "The government just passed another stupid law, but we know Jesus is still on the throne." It's kind of sad, really. We seem to turn Jesus' eternal Lordship into a personal coping mechanism.

But if we take seriously that Jesus has overcome evil, defeated death, guaranteed that our bodies will also be raised, and promised to bring heaven to earth, then how can Jesus' Kingship not impact us every day of the year?! For me, the knowledge that Jesus reigns drives me to action. If Jesus' Kingdom has broken into our world by way of His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, then my citizenship in that Kingdom means my church and I are "colonies" of that Kingdom. Whether things are going well or poorly, I work to make my world look more like God's as we wait for His appearing.

The Resurrection also informs my politics by giving me hope and security. One of the discouraging things I see in the current presidential race is how often people are driven by fear and anger. However, if I truly believe that Jesus is on the throne, then I have no reason to fear, even when evil seems to run rampant in my world. I also realize that "perfect love drives out fear" (1 Jn. 4:18) because Jesus is alive as King. Even if there are physical or existential threats to my existence, Jesus taught me not to fear those who can destroy the body but not the soul (Mt. 10:28).

So, where does all this leave me? I've certainly given many theological thoughts, but you might be wondering about how all this applies to politics. For starters, I do not believe there should be a wide chasm between theology and politics. I can't compartmentalize my faith (that's the topic of tomorrow's post). It should inform every aspect of my being, including my political side. Now, I may or may not use Christian language in public discourse, and I am certainly not looking to create a theocracy, but my faith cannot be divorced from my politics.

Therefore, when it comes to applying my faith to the political realm, what I try to seek is an approach that transcends parties and ideologies. To return to a theme I mentioned above, I strive after "Kingdom politics." If you ask me if I'm a Republican or Democrat, I will say neither because both sides have their strengths, and both certainly have their weaknesses. My political perspective does not neatly fit into either category.


For example, I consider myself "pro-life" in the sense that I despise abortion and would love to see it end. This tends to line up more with those on the Right (although I have some major differences with many on the Right when it comes to abortion as well). Likewise, I oppose "right-to-die" measures on the same grounds, like many conservatives. On the other hand, I also strongly support care for the poor and ending the death penalty because I am "pro-life." This tends to line up better with liberal platforms. My "pro-life" conviction is derived from my faith, and my faith teaches me that all life has dignity, whether it is in the womb or whether it has sinned beyond what we humans think we can forgive. I must be "pro-life" regarding all life, not just life in the first 9 months.

I personally still believe homosexuality is a sin (like many on the Right), but I also believe gay marriage should be legal (agreeing with those on the Left) since state/civil marriage is fundamentally different than religious marriage. And while some fellow Christians might critique me on this issue or claim I am just "watering down" a "Christian" message or "capitulating to the culture," my reasons for these political beliefs actually have a well-thought out rationale rooted in my faith (check out my thoughts here for a more in depth analysis).

I agree with conservatives that government should be limited, including on the topic of healthcare, but I appreciate Democrats and Obamacare for attempting to make healthcare more accessible to Americans, and particularly to the poor. Both positions come out of my faith which teaches me to recognize the limits and risks of earthly power but also bombards me with countless Scripture verses about caring for the poor and marginalized.

I greatly appreciate the Constitution of the United States and believe it is a crucial document for maintaining freedom in our country, but I would also be willing to go against the Constitution and be called a traitor if that's what it took to follow Jesus. The life of my King is more binding than any human-made document.

When it comes to topics like immigration or terrorism or gun-control, these too are topics that I do not approach as a conservative or liberal. Rather, in each situation I look back to Jesus and seek guidance from His example. I also consider research and science, but the story of Jesus serves as my compass (this will be the subject of Part 3 of this blog series). Sometimes this might mean I agree with liberals, other times I might agree with conservatives. More often than not, it probably means I fall somewhere in the middle.

So there you have it, or at least part of it. Of course my political views are much more nuanced than I can put in a single blog post, but I hope they are counter-cultural. Indeed, even that admission of complexity runs counter to our culture of sound-bytes and stereotypes (this week's Presidential "debate" is a perfect example of the dumbing-down of America's political rhetoric). It's easy to shout down a caricature or denounce a sound byte. But to listen to another person and actually understand all the nuances of their beliefs is difficult. It takes time.

So next time I make a "political" comment, please don't assume you understand where I am coming from unless you are willing to have a lengthy conversation about my religious motivations. You're welcome to disagree with me, but don't try convincing me I'm wrong unless you tie your perspective into your faith as well. And please, please don't stoop down to simplistic, polarized, partisan assumptions and attacks. You might try to accuse me of being a "bleeding-heart liberal" or a "narrow-minded conservative," but you'd likely be wrong. You can certainly feel strongly about your position, but understand that I also feel strongly about mine and that I have spent a great deal of time coming to my conclusions.

As I wrap up, I want to make two requests of you this election season if you are a Christian. First, try evaluating your political convictions in light of your religious convictions. And don't just stop at the tired, old issues--abortion, religious freedom, same-sex marriage, etc. Rather, re-examine ALL the issues. What does your faith have to say about gun-control, the death penalty, war and diplomacy, poverty, economics,  immigration, and other topics? I won't demand you come to the same conclusions as me, but I will ask that you at least ask the question.

The last request is to maintain civility and an open-mind during this election season. It's too easy to follow the siren-call of anger, personal attacks, and stereotypes, but these do nothing to advance truth. They only make everyone angry. If you really do care for our country and really do care about the truth, then perhaps the best thing you can do is shut up and listen to perspectives which differ from yours. You can't judge a position unless you thoroughly understand it, and you'll never understand it if you never truly listen to it. You never know, you may have to change your views. Maybe you'll even agree with me...

(Want to keep reading? Check out Part 2 and Part 3 of this series.)

Monday, April 20, 2015

What is "Home"?



In some ways, this is a follow-up post to yesterday's post. I just watched a powerful video containing a message to ISIS from Christians. While ISIS incites the world to violent conflict with its atrocities, and the world responds with a mission to "degrade and destroy" ISIS, this video speaks the Gospel-truth that not even ISIS warriors are beyond redemption if they will but heed the call of Jesus. Check out the video below:


Who Would Dare to Love ISIS? (A Letter from the People of the Cross)
Posted by International Christian Concern on Sunday, April 19, 2015
While there is certainly plenty to discuss with this video, I actually want to make a few brief observations about one of the comments on the video I saw. In the FB comments, one member posted about ISIS: "They don't realize when they kill a christian the are just sending them home."

Let's think about this statement for a second. Is this really what we mean to say? I think I know what the commenter is trying to get at, but the way the post is written is theologically problematic. What we should actually say here is that although those Christian martyrs were killed, they are now resting in the presence of God. My issue is with saying that killing those Christians has "sent them home."

So, what's wrong with calling heaven "home"? The problem is that such an idea buys into a gnostic/Platonic belief that physicality is evil or temporary and that our ultimate future is a disembodied state called "heaven." As I wrote about yesterday, the ultimate Christian hope is in the resurrection from the dead. Heaven is temporary. One day heaven and earth will be united as one (cf Rev. 21).

You see, if the above video comment is true and those martyrs are now "home," this has several problematic implications:

1. Death's evil is minimized
    If heaven is "home," then what does that make earth? If it's only a place I'm visiting, then shouldn't I try to get "home" as fast as possible. The answer to this is obviously "yes." In fact, the only reason I can see why we should linger longer and not commit suicide or seek to be murdered is we need to get other people to believe in Jesus so they can also live forever in heaven (oh wait, that seems to sum up the driving motivation of evangelicalism). We should also be careful whenever we celebrate the martyrdom of our Christian brothers and sisters. The Bible always maintains that death is an enemy. It is never to be viewed as a kind gateway to our true destiny. Rather, it is an evil obstacle God is working to overcome.

2. God made a mistake in creating the world
   If heaven is "home," then what kind of cruel God do we serve who banished us to an earthly existence? Why create matter at all? How can we call call heaven "home" when God Himself placed us on earth?

3. We dismiss the Bible
   Is there crying in heaven? Most people would say "no" because they have been tricked into believing that heaven is forever and that it is our "home." But I suppose those individuals have never seriously read passages like Rev. 6:9-11. This is a scene from heaven (slain martyrs), and yet it does not seem like a perfect paradise. Instead, the souls of these saints cry out and lament to God. They are waiting for something beyond heaven. They are waiting for judgment and resurrection. They are not truly home yet.

4. We dismiss any theology of judgment day.
    If judgment day is all about deciding who goes to heaven and who goes to hell, how does this square with the popular theology of people going directly to heaven or hell upon their death? If we arrive at "home" immediately upon death, then what does God's future judgment mean for us? Is God just going to say, "Ok, you get to be in heaven...oh, wait, you're already there"? No, Judgment Day is when God sets the world right. Everything the righteous lost through sin and death is restored and redeemed. The world experiences resurrection and recreation. Evil is finally put away for good. It is at this moment when heaven and earth are married that we can finally say we are "home."

Again, I appreciate the sentiments of the commenter, but they are theologically troublesome. If we really want to reach ISIS, we need to have a good grasp on the Gospel Jesus, Paul, and the early Christians preached, and it is a Gospel of resurrection. So to be clear, when ISIS martyrs our brothers and sisters, those fellow disciples of Jesus find peace in the arms of God. But they too, like us still on earth, are awaiting our true home--a resurrected reality where there is no more pain, murder, rape, sin, or death on earth. Maranatha.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

If You had been here...



It has now been two weeks since Easter. This is the time of year when I always ponder whether or not we can truly claim to be a people of the resurrection. Each year comes with grandeur and glory. We proclaim "He is risen! He is risen indeed!" among stained glass windows and brilliant sunshine. We sing "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" while inhaling lily-infused air. We fill our sanctuary with bells, organ, guitars, cymbals, and strings. And the sermon, well it practically preaches itself. It is impossible to miss the Gospel truth of the Resurrection.

But give us two weeks, and we will largely forget all about resurrection. Yes, we still believe that Jesus was raised from the dead, but that is about as far as it goes. We dismiss the idea that the same spirit who raised Jesus is resurrecting our spirits in the here and now. We continue to ignore the truth that our bodies will one day be raised from the ground. But these are crucial truths that fill us with courage to live lives of faith in the midst of fear.

In John 11 we read the incredible story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. As I was reading this story today, I noticed that one statement (or versions of it) is made at least three times to Jesus in the story--"If you had been here, Lazarus wouldn't have died." Both Mary and Martha tell Jesus this (11:21, 32) and the crowd also wonders about this (11:37).

I don't know why this phrase stuck out to me in reading the story. Maybe it's because it echoes our own desires. We are, by nature, people who desire escape. No one likes suffering. And so, when evil does rear its head, we are left questioning God's love. "God, if you love me you will stop this from happening." "God, if you had been here, this would not have happened." Yet, implicit in this reasoning is the concept that God is our butler who must do whatever we think is best. Embedded in this thinking is a belief that we need to avoid pain at all costs.

When it comes to facing the reality of death, Americans take this same tack. Honestly, most American Christians take a very unbiblical approach to death. When confronted with the truth that our bodies are wearing out and will one day die, most of us simply deny that this is any real loss. We have bought into the Platonic idea that, once we die, our souls will fly off to a disembodied "heaven" and dwell there for eternity. It's as if we think, "If God really thought these bodies were a good idea, then he would stop us from dying. But since we die, He must intend for us to leave these bodies behind." I hear echoes of Mary, Martha, and the crowd--"If You had been here, he would not have died."

But Jesus is not afraid of death. He grieves it and weeps over it because death is evil, but He knows it is not the end. Instead, Jesus' message is that God's love is stronger than death and can turn the evil of death into an opportunity to glorify God.

Yes, God could stop our deaths, but death is the reality we created. We have all sinned, and so we all die. But the Gospel is not just about defeating death, it is about using death to defeat itself. It's about God being so powerful and loving that He takes what is broken and dead and breathes new life into it. What evil and death ruin, God takes and transforms into something even better. Our hope is that God is in the process of allowing death to occur to open the possibility of resurrection. We will die one day, but those who follow Jesus will experience a life raised from the death. And through the pain of it all, we will realize the glory, love, and brilliance of our King.

So after Easter, let's hold tight to a strong theology of resurrection--one that not only believes Jesus rose from the dead, but also believes we will be raised one day as well. If we do this, we will stop saying with the crowd, "If you had been here...," but will start saying, "I accept my death, but stand amazed in your power over death and loving willingness to raise this prodigal life." May we be a people who desire to redeem and restore, not to escape. May we be a resurrection people.

I leave you with this song as a reminder of what Jesus means for us post-Easter.



Thursday, February 26, 2015

Despair and Hope


We live in a troubled world, don't we? Every day the news is filled with tragedy and disappointment. Just in the past day we were greeted with news that ISIS is holding at least 150 Christians hostage, were reminded of the partisan politics and gridlock within our Congress, and probably heard about countless other problems in our local community.

Things can get even more depressing for those of us who minister [should be read "all Christians"]. As we seek to bring God's Kingdom to earth and to proclaim the Gospel that Jesus Christ is Lord, we often feel like we are spinning our wheels in the mud. It doesn't help when so many Christian teachers and pundits remind us of the many moral failings and cultural depravity in our society. And, if you happen to be someone working within the church (or even in a non-profit), you may sometimes wonder if all the work you are putting forth is really paying off.
This has been a constant struggle for me in my own ministry in Marlin, TX for the past 4 and a half years. I work hours each week preparing, studying, ministering, and praying, but sometimes it feels like the ministry and the community go one step forward and two steps back. You spend countless sermons and mentoring hours emphasizing to others the immense love and grace found through Jesus, only to have people walk away from the church. You teach about how holy living and self-control are truly paths to the good life, only to get on Facebook and see the crap that students and church members post (sometimes directed at one another). You point others toward the reality that our faith cannot be lived out alone and that we need the community of Christ's Body, only to be disappointed many weeks by piddly attendance. It's enough to make a grown man cry (and I have sometimes.)

But, the temptation to despair and burnout is not unique to church work. Anyone who sees a need in their community and has struggled to change that reality will inevitably face these dark nights and haunting questions. And, when those doubts come, it is so very tempting to give into despair and cynicism. I have seen it in my own life. Slowly, you start badmouthing your congregation, or your town, or your school, or your (fill in the blank). You compare your grass to greener fields in other towns and communities. You entertain thoughts of leaving and moving to someplace where "they actually get it." You find yourself visiting despair.com to feed your cynicism and self-righteousness (it's actually a pretty funny website, check it out.) But cynicism is not a Christian virtue, at least not in the Bible I read.

In Jeremiah 32, there is a beautiful story that deals with despair and hope. At this point in the prophet's life, he has spent most of his ministry proclaiming the doom of Jerusalem and the Temple. Now, those prophecies were unfolding as the King of Babylon was besieging Jerusalem. Jeremiah then had the duty of announcing the city would fall and that Judah's King would not escape. In response, the King of Judah decided to imprison Jeremiah for his negativity.

However, while Jeremiah is sitting in prison and knows that his city will fall into the hands of his enemies, he receives an amazing prophecy. God instructs him to buy a plot of land in Judah and to place the deed in a jar "so it will last a long time." In Jeremiah's current circumstances that business deal made no sense. Why buy a piece of land that was about to become occupied territory? He didn't even know if he would survive the siege.

Even though it made little sense, the symbolism of this simple action was huge. Buying a deed communicated to God's people that this hardship would not be forever. They would not be occupied forever. One day, they would return to the land, and in that context, having a deed to a field would be a blessing. Despite the surrounding circumstances, Jeremiah chose to be used as a symbol of hope reminding people that we serve a God of restoration and resurrection.

So, the next time you feel tempted to give into despair and cynicism, remember that we are called to be signs of hope for our community, church, and culture. When everyone around us is screaming that the sky is falling, we are called to remind them that it is really heaven that is falling to earth. When pundits and neighbors despair because evil is running rampant, we run to the cross where Jesus crucified every evil power. And, when we look at our situation and are ready to host a funeral, we remember that we are a resurrection people.

Now, we may not see the transformation we want to see in our lifetime, but we also know that it's not really us who provides the growth and change. We plant the seeds and someone else may water, but in the end it is God who breathes life. After all, Jeremiah never got to use his deed. He probably died in captivity. But, for years that deed sat as a symbol of hope that all was not lost, and one day, someone did get to use that deed.

So wherever you are, cling to hope and "put the deed in the jar," because God is not done yet.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Do I Fast?

I was recently asked by a friend whether or not I fast. After looking at her oddly since the question seemed to come out of nowhere, I answered that I do sometimes fast. She then asked me what I thought about fasting. My short answer to her was that I don't fast because it is somehow the "holy" thing super-Christians do, or because I am trying to get something from God. I choose to fast when I feel I have no other choice with which to respond to particular moments in life. In other words, I fast when it seems to be the natural response.

My theology of fasting has been greatly shaped by the work of Scot McKnight. I really began to develop a deeper understanding of this ancient Christian practice when reading his book on fasting from The Ancient Practices Series. In McKnight's words, fasting "is the natural, inevitable response of a person to a grievous sacred moment in life [emphasis mine]."

As he explains, biblical fasting begins with an encounter of a "grievous sacred moment." It is this experience that prompts a person to fast. A person responding to such events only receives benefits after they respond to a prior event (and even then blessings are not guaranteed to always happen). McKnight consistently argues that the reaped benefits are not the point of fasting. We do not fast in order to get closer to God, to change our circumstances, or to get our prayers answered (although these things often do happen when we fast). Rather, we fast because we feel led to do so by our circumstances. We fast because it seems like the natural reaction to particular moments in our lives.

So, yes I do fast, but only when I feel like it is natural for me to do so. I fast during those "grievous sacred moments." A loved one dies. A friend is sick. My ministry faces challenges and frustrations. A church is divided by conflict. A country is burdened by bloodshed and war. These are the moments when I fast. I fast because my soul grieves. I fast because my body does not feel the desire to eat. I fast because I need more than bread in those times--I need the words of God.

I feel like fasting has always danced an awkward tango with the evangelical church. I've heard many evangelical leaders praise and demand fasting because "it is the only way to get close to God or to see your prayers answered" (which, as I just stated above, is not the real purpose of fasting). At the same time, I get the feeling that most evangelical Christians don't really know what to do with fasting or don't really know why they should do it. They get the impression that it is a "holy" experience they should do, but they don't know why and tend to avoid it because it seems too ancient or odd.

I think a large reason we evangelicals don't get fasting is because we've divorced the "body" and the "soul." We think the "real" part of us is our soul, which we think will fly off to heaven one day, leaving our body behind. In contrast, fasting is an act very solidly rooted in bodily experience. Why practice fasting when I can't really see how this bodily act will impact my soul, the "true me"?

However, once we realize the error of this thinking then we can better appreciate the practice of fasting. We are more than a soul. We are soul and body. These two cannot be divided or separated. This is the whole point of the promise of the resurrection. One day, God will restore our bodies back to us. Our bodies do matter, and what we do in these bodies matters as well because bodily practices do impact the spirit. They are united.

So, yes I do fast, and it probably wouldn't hurt if you did too. However, don't fast in order to get something. Don't fast to manipulate God into blessing you or answering your prayers. Instead, fast when life demands it. Fast when you encounter those "grievous sacred moments." Fast when you are in pain. Fast when you are surrounded by death and suffering. Fast when your prayers seem to go unanswered and you feel abandoned by God. Doing so brings our body into harmony with what our soul is experiencing. So, the next time pain and tragedy smack you in the face, don't censor your body, but allow it to suffer as well and open yourself to the healing and grace found in Christ.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

What to Do When the World is Ending

Well, it's May 21, but I haven't heard any reports of earthquakes in Asia yet. So, I figured doing a blog post wouldn't be a waste of my final hours. However, all this talk about the end of the world does spark a good question: If you knew the world was going to end tomorrow how would you spend that time?

An article in TIME this week invited readers to answer that question. Here are some of the answers they provided:


-I would go to a really fancy museum and touch everything
-I'd buy the most expensive bottle of scotch I could get my hands on (like $1,000) and drink it. Oh, and I'd buy a cigar to go with it
-Feel the emotions of exposing myself on public transportation
-Punch my boss
-Finally tell all those kids with the saggy pants to pull their pants up
-Bust dogs out of the shelter and gorillas out of the zoo
-Eat pies and cheese and stuff

-I'd have my girlfriend come over and just lay in bed with me wearing our finest formalwear like the elderly couple in Titanic
-Buy expensive crystal wine glasses and smash them against a wall
-I'd probably just start asking random really hot girls if they want to sleep with me
-Well, I'd definitely stop folding laundry
-Eat nothing but $2 Taco Bell meals
-Watch Party of Five on Netflix
-Challenge Michael Jordan to a one on one

It was interesting to me that most of the answers provided involved either splurging on one's self or carrying out those secret mischievous (or sinful) acts we've always wanted to do. I found this a fascinating contrast to the answer that Martin Luther provided so long ago. When contemplating what he would do if he knew the world was going to end he said that he would plant a tree. What a difference.
Perhaps the difference lies in our belief in the end. If we believe that the end of the world is  the ultimate end or if we believe that there is only heaven to look forward to, then such earthly desires for those final hours make sense. After all, you won't have another chance.

However, if we believe in the Christian hope of resurrection then what we do on this earth does matter. Our work is not in vain. When Christ does come it won't be as the destroyer of worlds but as the one who comes to redeem, resurrect, and recreate what has been lost.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

To a Magic Foreign Land

"Christ is risen from the dead,
and he's standing on my bed
Come away, come away to a magic foreign land."
This chorus was made up by one of my friends before he was able to figure out the words to Matt Maher's song, "Christ is Risen." The actual words go as follows:
"Christ is risen from the dead,
trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake,
come and rise up from the grave."
Just a little different from my friend's chorus. However, as I was thinking about it, the revised version seems to echo what many American Christians believe. I don't want to imply that this is necessarily what my friend believes (he was just putting forth nonsense words), but sadly many Christians do believe this way. Instead of realizing the implications of Jesus' resurrection as the first-fruits of out resurrection, many Christians prefer to believe in a gnostic view of the afterlife. They choose to believe that, after death, all that happens is we fly away to heaven and live with God forever. But this is not what the Bible teaches.

The Bible firmly teaches a life
after life after death. That's the whole point of the resurrection. We will not exist as disembodied spirits. In the end, when God restores all things, our bodies will be physically raised. This is the hope of Easter--or do we not believe that Jesus was actually raised? As NT Wright puts it in his book, Surprised By Hope, to only hope for a spiritual existence in a world far from earth means that death is victorious. Death still reigns because it has defeated creation and our physical bodies. But the Resurrection of Christ promises that God will redeem His creation. The physical world that He created in the beginning will not be abandoned to death and decay while we rest in some "magic foreign land."

Instead, as
Maher's song beautifully points out, the Christ's Resurrection was God's was of trampling over death. Death does not reign, so let us come awake to this fact and live appropriately while we await that glorious day of recreation.