Christians have made the gospel about so many things–things other than Christ.” So says the back-jacket of Len Sweet and Frank Viola’s collaborative effort, which seeks to “Restore the supremacy and sovereignty of Jesus Christ.”
There are some really great things to be said about this book. A couple of chapters in particular really brought some perspective and changed the way I looked at things, but all in all there wasn’t a ton I hadn’t seen/heard/read before. I would like to specifically bring up two things that I really loved. Here, I’ll quote one:
Jesus Christ is like a vast ocean. He is too immense to filly explore, and too rich to fathom. You are like a bottle. The wonder if the ocean is that the bottle is in the ocean, and the ocean is in the bottle
You see, Jesus, the biggest thing in the universe, the person so completely above and beyond anything we could ever imagine, wants to (and does, when we give our lives to him) take up residence within us. But at the same time, we are in Him. I could say that over and over again and it would still blow my mind, but I take comfort in it. The God of all wants us. In the book’s seventh chapter, the guys explore the flaw in most of the religion thrown around Christianity these days. We’ve become so obsessed with being “like” Jesus that Christianity has become about behavior modification instead of life change. No, that’s not just semantics, there’s a real difference. Christianity isn’t trying to be like Jesus, Christianity is KNOWING Jesus. Len and Frank believe the source of this flaw dates all the way back to the garden of Eden. There were two trees; the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The writers believe the choice that faced Adam and Eve still faces us today. I’d like to quote a big hunk of the book here, because it explains the point way better than I could.
The meaning of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil can be understood by the serpent’s promise: “By eating from this tree, you will be making your own decision. You will be like God, determining for yourself what is right and what is wrong.” The fall of humanity was all about women and men assuming the posture that they don’t need anyone to tell them what to do. They would decide for themselves what’s good and what’s bad. They would be self-sufficient and self-determining. Of course, what was ignored in that discussion was the tree of life. God wanted humans to eat from the tree of life. Eating from the tree of life meant receiving the uncreated life of God into oneself. The tree of life was God’s own life made accessible to human beings. Today, the tree of life is the Lord Jesus Christ.
Here are the two choices before you today: 1. The choice to intellectually know good from evil and to try to do good = the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. 2. Living by the life of God, which is goodness itself = the tree of life
So, what tree are you eating from? I think that’s a relevant question today, as we live our lives between the trees.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
What do you do when God doesn’t show up the way you thought He would? What do you do when your dreams are shattered? What do you do when your life isn’t turning out the way you thought? What do you do when you have to turn to Plan B? These are the questions asked on the jacket of Pete Wilson’s new book Plan B, and they’re appropriate. Everyone goes through a Plan B situation. I know I’ve been there more than once. Two years ago I was working at a church doing what I thought I was going to do for the rest of my life, and that fell apart. A year later, I was still miserable but my one constant was the girl I was in love with and was sure I would marry. Then that fell apart, too. I was angry, confused, and upset. I was so sure that God would at least let me have that. I was so sure that that was part of His plan. I really could’ve used this book back then.
In Plan B, Pete tells the stories of Bible characters we all know, as well as personal stories of his own and people he’s come into contact with throughout his life who have gone through their own crises or had their dreams shattered. Folks like Joseph, David, Joshua, Abraham, and modern folks like Pete’s friends Angie and Todd Smith, or Justin and Trisha Davis. Pete relates the stories of his friends and these Biblical heroes to whatever Plan B situation you may be going through right now. You will probably find (as I did) that a lot of the questions you have are the same. Why is God doing this to me now? Why is God letting this happen? What did I do to deserve this? So the first thing I want to note is that reading this book made me feel as if I was in good company. I’m not alone in my pain. In my sorrow. Even Jesus went through Plan B’s. He was “a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3)
What I was afraid this book would be (unfairly, given what I knew of Pete from his blog posts and tweets) was a self-help book of 7 easy steps to grief-free living, or a guide to praying the prayer that frees you from your problems. That’s what seems to sell, anyway. But that isn’t what this book is. There’s a beautiful turning point about 2/3 of the way in where Pete brings up the cross. You see, Pete has this crazy idea that maybe our Plan B’s have a purpose, much like the cross of Jesus. Maybe they’re taking us somewhere. Maybe they’re changing us. Maybe it’s in the Plan B, in the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, that God’s doing His work in us. And there’s one passage in particular that punched me right in the gut:
You may be at odds with God right now. You’re not happy with the way your life is turning out. You may be praying and pleading with God. But is it possible you don’t really want God? Is it possible you just want what God can give you?
Ouch. That really hit home for me. How many of us have done that? Probably all of us. I know I have.
You see, Plan B isn’t a book that claims to have all the answers. But it does point us to the solution, the cross of Jesus. It is at the cross our hope is found. In this world we will come across all sorts of trouble, but can have HOPE because our God has overcome the world (John 16:33 my paraphrase). This book doesn’t end with a nice bow wrapped on top, to make everyone feel better. But it does end with an honest challenge that can change the way you live in your Plan B. Choose to let God change you, choose to love, and choose to trust. I pray we all can do that. Amen.
Our woes began when God was forced out of His central shrine and “things” were allowed to enter. Within the human heart “things” have taken over. Men have now by nature no peace within their hearts, for God is crowned there no longer, but here in the moral dusk stubborn and aggressive usurpers fight among themselves for first place on the throne…The roots of our hearts have grown down into things, and we dare not pull up one rootlet lest we die. Things have become necessary to us, a development never originally intended. God’s gifts now take the place of God, and the whole course of nature is upset by the monstrous substitution.
– A.W. Tozer, in The Pursuit of God
My love affair with things began early. I remember my prized collection of action figures, or ‘mens’, as I called them. Most of them were Ninja Turtles, which eventually gave way to X-Men. If you tried to take my ‘mens’ from me, there’s a good chance it would end in screaming. As I got older, my things changed. I didn’t care about action figures anymore. I cared about baseball cards and books. Then I cared about guitars. DVDs and CDs. Cars. Clothes. My Blackberry. Blackberry apps. My TV. Tivo. Cable. Cable Internet. My computer. My 20 inch flat screen monitor. I’m surrounded by things. I love things. I need things. Or, at least, I tell myself I do.
How did this happen? How did this predisposition to possessions get wired into my little brain? Well, I think Mr. Tozer already answered that question. So the next question is…How do I get over it? How do I make sure that with all of the “things” surrounding me, I don’t lose sight of the one thing that really matters?
Love God, your God, with your whole heart: love him with all that’s in you, love him with all you’ve got! Write these commandments that I’ve given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning to when you fall into bed at night. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder; inscribe them on the doorposts of your homes and on your city gates.
– Moses to the Israelites, in Deuteronomy 6: 5-9
These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on.
– Jesus, in Matthew 7: 24a
I think that’s where it starts. We have to love God more than anything. And we have to take the things He has taught us, shown us, instilled in us, and make them real. Make them ours. Build our very lives on them. It’s a struggle, but I pray God gives me strength to build my life on His words, and not on the ‘things’ of this world. Amen.
And I run to the arms of another song, another story by a man who’s dead and gone; When will I run, when will I run to the arms of God?
– Andrew Osenga – “When Will I Run?”
Now–here is my secret:
I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God–that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.
– Douglas Coupland – Life After God
I’ve been putting off writing this post for several months now, but a post over on Kari’s blog encouraged me to finally take the plunge. Right now, I’m listening to Andrew Osenga’s “Too Far To Walk” from his Photographs album. I could post all the lyrics to this song and they would apply to what I’ve been going through, but you’ll have to search them out for yourself. I need to get this out, and quick before I change my mind. If you read this blog, you know about the things I went through last summer (here’s the post about it), but I left out a crucial part because of the hurt that I feel when I think about it. I dream about it at least once a week, and it’s been the hardest struggle my mind has ever gone through. When my panic attacks started, I stepped down from leading worship at my church “temporarily,” until I could get things straightened out. I felt it was what I needed to do. I didn’t believe I could adequately lead the people of my congregation in worship when there was so much weighing down on me. This was supported by nearly everyone I know, including my family, my girlfriend, my friends, and the church’s pastor. After one failed restart (I had a panic attack on the way to practice on the day I decided I was ready to come back…I wasn’t ready, apparently), I finally knew, knew, mind you, that I was ready. That God had made me ready to do what I needed to do. I must digress to tell you that I believe more than anything in my heart that I’m supposed to use the musical talent God has given me to lead others in worship. So, I was ready. I met with my pastor and told him where I was at and how I felt. This meeting didn’t go the way I had hoped. I learned that my pastor believed the reason for my panic attacks, the reason for my depression, the reason I had struggled for three months was because I had somehow failed morally. He hinted that maybe it was because my girlfriend and I had slept together. This isn’t true, and to be honest, I was offended. I was hurt. I’d worked at the church for more than three years, and this man, my pastor, my friend, his first guess as to what has caused my problems is that I (pardon the commonness of this term) was screwing my girlfriend. Again, this isn’t true. Our conversation didn’t end there. He informed me that he would be happy for me to come back to leading worship at the church, after a four month probationary period, in which accountability would have to established, and I would have to earn back the trust of the church and its congregation. Let me restate that I stepped down from my position temporarily of my own accord, so I was confused as to where I betrayed the trust of the church. The meeting didn’t end well, and I haven’t been back to the church since. I’m fairly sure that no one there knows exactly what happened, and I haven’t talked to anyone from the church with the exception of a couple of folks. I regularly have dreams where I confront the pastor, asking him why he did things the way he did them, but the truth is I’m scared to talk to him. I know I should. I know it’s biblical (Matthew 18), but I’m afraid of what I might do. Yes, I’m really afraid I could become violent. I have so many feelings and emotions inside of me that I don’t know how I might express, or even how I could. My girlfriend and I attend church with my parents now, at a place where we feel welcomed and loved. I miss my old community so much, but I know in my heart I can never go back. I hope someday there can be reconciliation, but I fear there may never be. I pray there will at least be closure.
This situation has taught me, more than anything, and more than ever, that I need God. I need him more than the air that I’m breathing, and more than the blood pouring through these veins of mine. I know He’ll never leave me. I pray I never leave Him.
I’m currently reading A.J. Jacobs’s second book, The Year Of Living Biblically: One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible. Jacobs is a secular Jewish man (He says he’s Jewish like “the Olive Garden is Italian”) who decided to take a year to immerse himself in the Bible. To see what it would look like to follow the Bible as literally as possible, to the letter. Every jot and tittle, as they say. What results is a sometimes funny, sometimes profound, sometimes moving memoir. I’m about 3/4 of the year through and this passage I read this morning moved me so that I felt I had to put it somewhere for posterity. For context, this excerpt was written from Jerusalem during a short trip Jacobs took there.
Today I’m taking a rest from a walk on a set of stairs near the Jaffa Gate. Or maybe near the Lion’s Gate. I’m not sure. Frankly, I’m lost. But I’m resting here on the stone steps, which are cool and shaded and have a bumpy surface that makes them look like a Rice Krispies treat. I have my head bowed and my eyes closed. I’m trying to pray, but my mind is wandering. I can’t settle it down. It wanders over to an Esquire article I just wrote. It wasn’t half bad, I think to myself. I liked that turn of phrase in the first paragraph. And then I am hit with a realization. And hit is the right word– it felt like a punch to my stomach. Here I am being prideful about creating an article in a midsize American magazine. But God–if He exists–He created the world. He created flamingos and supernovas and geysers and beetles and the stones for these steps I’m sitting on. “Praise the Lord,” I say out loud. I’d always found the praising-God parts of the Bible and my prayer books awkward. The sentences about the all-powerful, almighty, all-knowing, the host of hosts, He who has greatness beyond our comprehension. I’m not used to talking like that. It’s so over the top. I’m used to understatement and hedging and irony. And why would God need to be praised in the first place? God shouldn’t be so insecure. He’s the ultimate being. Now I can sort of see why. It’s not for him. It’s for us. It takes you out of yourself and your prideful little brain.
The folks over at Stupid People Church, the blog/podcast that I’m falling in love with and highly recommend, pointed me to this article, entitled “Escape From Consumer Church,” a GREAT article that says a lot of things that I find myself agreeing with with where the church is today and where the church is going and where the church needs to go. Worth a read, for sure.
And you love her
But you know you’ve got to leave her
She’s leaving you with no way out – Derek Webb
So my family’s time at Buffalo Baptist Church has come to an end. The politics of church have taken over the love and community that once was. People who I thought loved and supported us turned their back on us, then turned toward us again, only to spit in our faces. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I may post a rundown, but it’s not something I feel I can relive now.
Tonight was the first time I attended a church other than Buffalo in five years. It was a strange feeling. To go somewhere, and not be the worship leader. To not be the preacher’s kid. To just be a visitor at this church. I don’t know if I liked it or not. It was so different from where I’ve been for so long now. I hope I can get back to where I can lead others in worship weekly….somewhere. I need that. It’s where I found my strength every week.
To all of those who may read this…please pray for me, my family, and what was once my church. The rebuilding process will be an interesting one for us all.
Are we as a church in the twenty-first century too concerned with being relevant?
Oh dear sweet Jesus, yes we are.
Am I the only one who’s tired of hearing the “The Bible is a what-to, not a how-to book” argument made as an excuse for using unBiblical methods of churching?
Seeker-friendly churches scare me, b/c when it comes down to it, none of us are seekers.
GOD is the seeker.
In our preoccupation with being relevant, we’ve forgotten one thing. The Bible was never irrelevant.
For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. 2 Timothy 4: 3-4
This is short in hopes it will spur discussion. Carry on.
I’m sitting alone in my bedroom, listening to David Crowder’s “You Alone”.
I listen to a lot of praise and worship music, and I’m always trying to find new songs that we can do in my youth group (seeing as how I’m the music guy and all). You Alone is by no means a new song. We’ve been doing it for years. But it never fails that every time I hear it, every time I sing it….I start crying. I don’t know why. Just the amazing profoundness of those statements. “You alone are Father, you alone are good, you alone are savior, you alone are God”. And the bridge, the “I’m Alive” part always gives me chills.
I’ve always heard complaints (and at times have supplied the complaints myself) that a lot of worship these days is too man-centered, focusing on us rather than God. This song always encourages me when I complain about that. It’s about HIM alone.