Redeeming Church: Jesus' Not-Flop Plan

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

 

    Besides being in poor taste, it didn’t make any engineering sense. The comedian said, “Ya know, after a plane crash, they find the black box, and it’s just fine. So why don’t they make the whole plane like the black box?!” Answer: black boxes don’t fly, and neither do airplanes that are made like black boxes. Besides, they’re orange – the boxes, that is.

     Jesus didn’t populate his church with perfect people. With no one perfect but himself, how could he? Therefore, his plan from the get-go must have been to make up the church with less-than-perfect people, leaving plenty of room for sanctification and redemption. Rather than pretend we’re perfect – or trying to build a plane like the black box – the best work we can do is cooperate with him in the ongoing purification.

     After a two-week break, we’re back onto the subject of Redeeming Church. I’m sure you’ll agree that we, the church, are still a long way from being without blemish (Ephesians 5:27), the condition in which Jesus will present his bride/church to himself at the right time. How much time do we have to get there? Beats me. I try to operate under the premise that it’s less than I would think.

 

    When we think about the intersection of culture and faith, which has been the overriding thought in this ongoing “Three R’s” series, it would be silly to not think about the church. Jesus established the church to bring the Abrahamic covenant to bear on all nations: “…in you shall all the families of the earth be blessed” (Genesis 12:3). By its very nature, the church will intersect with culture for the purpose of bringing blessing – or be a flop. Jesus doesn’t do flops. So let’s brush up on his plan for not-flop.

     For a long time, the church didn’t intersect with culture much. Even in my own lifetime I can remember a separation, the church seeming to operate under the goofy notion that everyone who would be saved already had been. Now that we’re kinda/sorta back on mission, the tactics are still a bit sideways. The church gives a lot of advice – as if that’s all we’re required to do. Have you heard what they say about free advice? It’s worth every dime. Having raised a couple kids to adulthood, I’ve learned that giving advice can’t compare with living a good example. Jesus’ not-flop plan for the church involves us understanding that he is our life actually (see Colossians 3:4), and living out the examples that flow naturally from his life in us. Three categories of example leap readily to mind.

     First, there is friendship with God. Going back to the example of Abraham, in James 2 we hear, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”—and he was called a friend of God (verse 23). Oh, but that was Abraham, we’re tempted to say. But how did he become a friend of God? By believing him. By taking him seriously. By putting, in the most literal sense there is, one foot in front of the other in faith. Abraham was not God’s only friend. Neither was Moses. Friendship with God is open to all believers, and forms the basis for every other example.

     The next two categories involve men, mainly. Women, please don’t click out; I’d like for you to see this. We’ve been talking a lot lately about the church as the bride of Christ. In Ephesians 5, bride-of-Christ talk is intertwined with husband-and-wife talk, to the point that I’ve thought maybe even Paul lost track of which was which. But verse 25 plainly says Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her. Humanity is made complete, again, in every marriage – as God said, it was not good that the man should be alone (Genesis 2:18). Can you imagine an alternate scene in the Garden of Eden, where Adam gets all up in the serpent’s face on behalf of his bride? Yeah, that. Like Jesus for the church. Wives, does that sound appealing to you?

     And for the sake of holding the categories of living examples to three – though there are plenty more – let’s talk fatherhood. Secular sociologists might say I’m oversimplifying, but I would contend that every major social dilemma we’ve identified – and some we’re afraid to – has its roots in fatherlessness. The closing words of the Old Testament are beyond ominous: lest I come and strike the land with a decree of utter destruction (Malachi 4:6). The Lord’s remedy, or alternative, to such a dreadful decree was to send John the Baptist in the spirit of Elijah: And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers. Bible scholars will, I hope, forgive my face-value understanding of the verse, but it seems to make plain sense. Best I can tell, the prophet’s work is still underway. I’m glad for every father whose heart is turned to his children, making a way for his children’s hearts to be turned to him. But there is so far to go. And the church should be leading the way.       

     Because no single church has to engage all the world’s problems, the possibility exists for each church to engage what the Lord has ordained for her. I write these letters to you, Cobblestone, and to no one else. Jesus knows, in perfect detail, the scope of our work. For every challenge, he provides the capacity to encourage, the capacity to learn how to live out the examples.

     There’s no intersection I know of that’s in more urgent need of redeeming than the intersection of culture and Christianity. Deep inside, I think non-Christians know that we Christians have the answers to their burning questions, have that mysterious commodity left to us by our Savior: the peace of Christ. And I think they resent us, rightly, for not being better merchants of the commodity entrusted to our stewardship. How do we encourage others to friendship with God? By proving that it’s possible. How do we drive toward real humanity as it was always meant to be? By being little-j jesuses in marriage. How do we heal the generations and defuse the spirit of anger loose in the world? By doing everything we can in prayer and practice to help dads succeed. And more. The doxology in Ephesians 3 is to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen (verses 20-21).

 Indeed.

     Except for some frightfully rare cases, the “black box” records all that went wrong on the way to destruction. But Jesus plans for his church to be writing, right now, the story of all that went right. May you be encouraged and empowered, Church, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

 

Grace and Peace (and confidence in the Lord),

 

John

We Three Words

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     As he walked into church this past Sunday morning, Gary Cook asked, “Are you ready for Christmas, John?”

    “No, I’m not, Gary – it has snuck up on me, just like every year.”

    I lied. This Christmas has done a way better job of sneaking up on me than past Christmases have. Sorry, Gary. Now you have the truth.

     I have piles of notes for the “Three R’s” series, and have been particularly eager to give the third and fourth installments in the “Redeeming Church” miniseries. But hey, it’s Christmas – or so I hear. And besides, there are three words that have been a constant part of my consciousness for the past week or more – even while my mind and hands have been occupied with work, my heart has been saying them over and over. Sometimes when that happens, it’s a nudge from the Lord that I’m supposed to pass them on to you, Church. Not wanting to miss a nudge, here they are:

 Jesus Is Real.

     So you knew that already. Congratulations. Read those words again. Say them out loud. Say them again. One more time. Thanks.

     We could track Scripture and highlight the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus, how he ate and drank, how he walked and talked. We could pop into Acts and be reminded of how his actual body was lifted up from the Mount of Olives in the Ascension, and how the messengers from heaven said he would return in like manner. Those would be good and worthy exercises, but in this moment I’m hoping you’ll pause long enough to see whether there’s a heart-level response to those three words that you may have been missing for a while. I’m not asking you to turn off your intellect – you know me well enough to know I would never ask you to do that – only let the heart lead, and let your intellect observe.

     For whatever reasons, it seems awfully easy to think of Jesus as a long-ago person or a far-off fulfillment – our idea of love and mercy and lordship personified, but not possessing anything so solid as flesh and bone. It’s easy to think of him as not real like you and I are real. But he is made no less real by the fact that he is physically present elsewhere, seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Hebrews 12:2). He is – seated, that is, on something… his own throne, perhaps, or perhaps the right-hand side of God’s own throne – but he is. Jesus is real. I hope he is pleased with what I’m writing to you just now.     

     In addition to hearing those three words at the heart level, I highly recommend Andrew’s sermon from this past Sunday on the Incarnation,  http://www.cobblestonechurch.com/media/717051-2975990-14407386/incarnation as a reminder of our church’s commitment to the realness of Jesus.

     The tornado recovery team got back into town late Wednesday night. As the sun came up Thursday morning, it was almost disorienting to not be surrounded by twisted trees and torn-up houses, or hear the clatter and roar of heavy equipment. Maybe that’s why this Christmas has so thoroughly snuck up on me – I thought it was a backup alarm. I’m glad to have had, underneath it all, a heart-level assurance of the real-est of realities. If we will let it, I believe the sheer realness of Jesus has the power to make this Christmas – however sneaky it may have been for you – more meaningful and fruitful than any we’ve known for a long time.

     Jesus is real. Jesus is King. Jesus is coming. Amen.

 

 Grace and Peace (and real Jesus),

 John

Tornado Recovery

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Somehow, we flew in under the radar. Oh, it was no act of our own cleverness. In fact, every detail of the plans we made, at some point, looked like they would amount to nothing. No, this was an exercise in flexibility. The Lord was making the plan, and we were encountering it minute by minute.

     Cobblestone’s elders approved a modest relief effort for our neighbors to the southwest who had their lives turned upside down by the tornado outbreak last Friday night. Cobblestone’s staff got to work on a plan, and four men left at oh-dark-thirty Wednesday morning with a U-Haul trailer full of supplies and tools. Only by watching for the Lord’s leading did the crew find its way to precisely the people who needed us.

     When I say the elders approved a relief effort, I should also say that we did so without knowing exactly where the funds would come from to back it up. Rather than collect donations of goods over the next few weeks, we figured it would be better to get supplies and materials onsite first and ask for financial help later. There’s not a budget line labeled “Natural Disaster in a Neighboring State,” so the hope is to refill whatever budget lines we borrow from. Please pray, and ask the Lord if he wants you to make a contribution. It’s his call, and the elders are completely willing to trust him with the outcome. Our administrator, Stacey, has set up several easy ways to give. Rather than trying to translate, I’ll give you exactly what she gave me:

     Tornado Relief should be used to designate funds - either cash with a note or in an envelope with their name on it, a check with "Tornado Relief" on the memo line, online through our giving website (https://cobblestonechurch.churchcenter.com/giving and use the Tornado Relief designation) or Text-to-Give (text a dollar amount and "tornadorelief" to 84321).

     The crew ended up in a little town called Samburg, in Tennessee. While there, we made some face-to-face connections with leaders of the locally led recovery effort, and learned that many workers are still needed for the nitty-gritty, hand-over-hand cleanup. Our offer to make a return trip was gladly accepted. So the plan here at home is to send a larger crew back to Samburg for the first few days of next week – most likely Monday afternoon through late Wednesday night, December 20-22. Just like this week’s trip, the key word is “flexibility,” but that’s the structure so far. Some of you, Church, may be thinking the Lord wants you to go. If so, here are some parameters to consider:

No minors are allowed onsite.

The work is dangerous; we’ll be working up close with heavy equipment and chainsaws.

The work is dirty and strenuous.

Accommodations are not yet firm; we’ll be indoors overnight, but it won’t be a hotel.

The weather will be cold.

There are food trucks/trailers onsite now, but by next week we might be living on granola bars.

The top three qualifications are flexibility, flexibility, and (yep) flexibility!

     When a neighbor gets the roof torn off her house, she needs some relief. Roofs are pretty handy. Trying to live without one isn’t. The good people of Samburg, Tennessee are transitioning out of relief mode and working diligently on recovery. One of the local leaders, at the Wednesday debriefing, said he’s envisioning a better Samburg than the residents have known in their lifetimes. I’m hoping we can be a part of that – mostly unseen and almost unnoticed, but a meaningful part nonetheless – simply by being attentive to the Lord’s will.

     “Jesus, lead us. Give us a witness of your Holy Spirit in our spirits, and show us what to do. Amen.”

 

 Grace and Peace (and many thanks in advance),

John

 

Tape Measure

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     One fine morning back in nineteen-ninety-something, the boss sent me out to supervise a crew. I didn’t like supervising (still don’t), but the boss said Go and I went. He seemed to think I enjoyed it, so he kept sending. Three of those times, he sent me to lead a crew of men I’d never met. Two of those times got off to a totally tragic start, one a little less so. This was one of the tragic ones, and made that particular morning much less fine than it might otherwise have been.

     We were building an industrial/manufacturing workspace. I won’t go into the mechanicals any further than to say it was heavy-duty stuff, and to say that eighty percent of the crew I was inheriting had never built anything of the sort. The job involved “hanging iron,” as the term goes, erecting heavy steel framing, and only one man of the six had ever bolted girder-to-column or purling-to-girder. They were a concrete crew, and had just finished pouring the floor of a pole barn elsewhere. Without another concrete job lined up, their boss, who knew my boss, sent them to me, and my boss sent me to them. I could understand the good in keeping the crew working, but other than that, was baffled by the arrangement. As I walked onto the jobsite, unknown and unnoticed, the first words I heard from the crew were:

“Who’s got the tape measure?”

    The tape measure – singular? Surely not. Sure enough: one man tossed “the” tape measure across the span to another, and all five watched him use it. My first words to the crew were:

    “Tomorrow morning, everybody’s got his own tape measure, got it?”

And by the way, I’m your new supervisor. A tragic start, indeed.

     When the exiled Jews returned to Jerusalem from Babylon, their job was to resume worship in the holy city. We’ve read about their adventures in our Bible reading plan lately. To them, resuming worship was synonymous with rebuilding the temple, which had been toppled, plundered, and burned by the exiting Babylonians in 586BC. But none of them had been involved in building the original temple, only a few of the oldest had ever seen it standing, and no one living at the time had known it in the glory days of King Solomon. How does one build a temple to the Almighty? Hearsay and fuzzy recollection was all they had to go on – that, and ruined stones scattered about. It’s not too hard to see why the job stalled. If only they could have understood that their work actually involved a whole other set of measurements.

     In our day, there’s glorious work going on. According to Ephesians 5, Jesus is continually sanctifying his bride, the church, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish (verses 26-27). As the bride, you and I are certainly involved in the sanctifying. We would do well to cooperate in the work, trying to understand, best we can, what the bridegroom is up to. But none of us can quite capture the image Jesus has in his mind and heart, nor can we quite imagine the future glory days of a holy and spotless church. Who’s got the tape measure?

     In Scripture, there are five main metaphors for the church: body, building, bride, flock, and family. Each metaphor brings to mind its own standards of measurement. The general health of a body is measured by the health of its particular members. The integrity of a building is in being level and plumb, without which it will collapse under its own weight. The joy of a bride shows up in her anticipation of the wedding day. Knowing the one shepherd’s voice is what makes a flock out of otherwise random individuals. Family is most often determined by blood relation. How puzzling it is to try to combine the various standards – “apples and oranges” to the max!

     Thankfully, Jesus gave a go-to measurement for his church, a standard that faithfully incorporates the others:

    “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).

     “ By this…” All other measurements are secondary – helpful, but not the true test Jesus gave. And how else would the rest of the world know who the church is? The rest of the world indicates often enough that they’re not impressed with our numbers or money or sociopolitical views. But what if our love for one another was the gauge? Would that draw the world in? I can’t imagine anything more appealing.

     Hebrews 10 instructs us to consider how to stir up one another to love and good works (verse 24). When we’re apart, we consider; when we get together, by whatever means, we put wheels on those considerations. I stir you; you stir me. If this very moment allows, begin to consider how you might stir up a brother- or sister-in-Christ. For extra kicks and giggles, consider how you might be stirred by someone else. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Maybe, if we listen real close, we can hear Jesus chuckling too.

     My inherited crew – the concrete boys turned ironworkers – were gracious, and we recovered in short order from my tragic introduction. I started learning names and stories, on-the-job. At one point I was up in the iron with the one experienced iron-monkey, who took off to the other side of the span, going hand-over-hand on the bottom flange of a beam, high above the ground. Once he was settled on the far side, I asked:

    “You’re a single guy, aren’t you, Charlie… no kids?”

    “Yeah, that’s right. Why do you ask?”

    “Because married guys with children don’t do what you just did.”

    It was the most loving way I could think of saying, “This is your supervisor speaking: ‘Don’t ever do that on my jobsite again.’”

     Bottom line, the crew and I didn’t get any good work done until we started to love one another. Thereafter, at the end of each shift, we could see the love in what we had accomplished. There was far more than iron being built up. How much truer in the church, where the plan is to participate and cooperate in the redemption and sanctification of the bride of Christ?

     You and I and everybody else in this church – we come from vastly different “trades,” and have learned different units and standards of measurement, all helpful in their way, but only to the degree that they work in concert, serving the one go-to standard. Pray, Church, to be stirred up, and to filled up with the affection of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:8) for one another. It tickles me to think on the satisfaction we will feel by what gets accomplished in love.

     Early on I mentioned the three times I inherited a crew I had never worked with. The example I gave was the second most tragic start. Maybe someday I’ll tell about the dubious Number One, and how long it took to recover from my inglorious beginning. For now, let me tell you about the one occurrence that was less than totally tragic. After asking the boss many times if he wanted me to spec/engineer/ramrod a particular job, he said No. And then he said Go.

    “Go out there and show those boys what you want.”

    “What I want?”

    “Well, what you want them to do with my money.”

    Resolved to get a better start, I did my fussing between the boss walking away and my walking onto the site. I was picking up a crew of two, a journeyman electrician and his apprentice, who between them represented many times my own experience in that trade. My first words to them:

    “Y’all know way more about this work than I do. I’m only responsible for how it turns out.”

    “Fair enough,” the journeyman responded

     And we had a deal. We still had to navigate the dimly lit zones between what we knew and what we could teach each other, but we had a workable arrangement…

 …much like ours.

 

 Grace and Peace (and more Love o’ Jesus on you than you could possibly keep to yourself),

 

John

 

P.S. I’m glad to know ya, crew.

Redeeming Church

 Hey, Cobblestone,

Three weeks ago I wrote to you about the nature of redemption. The long and short is this: Redemption runs on love, and always has – if there’s no affection for the person or object or activity being redeemed… well, it won’t be. I wouldn’t expect you to remember why we we’re brushing up on the topic, so here’s Why: in this ongoing “Three R’s” series, where we decide which road to take at the intersection of culture and faith – Receive something as all good, Reject it as all bad, or Redeem something inherently good from whatever not-good purposes it may have been put to – there are some heavy-duty matters still to consider. Frankly, I’ve been eager to write on the redemption of marriage or sex or civil government or some other hot topic on my list. But it seems the Lord’s priorities are elsewhere at the moment – this letter and three to follow will deal with the redemption of Jesus’ bride, the church, and what Christians can do to cooperate in the work.  

Jesus has a very definite plan for the church, and at the right time he will present her to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing (Ephesians 5:27). A quick glance around will confirm we’re not there yet. Many details of the plan have been revealed; others, the Lord will keep to himself (see Deuteronomy 29:29). But we can be certain there’s enough work to keep us busy till he puts on the final touches. What might the work be? My brain is not large enough or swift enough to give an exhaustive list, so I’ll hoist up a few thought-starters to get us going.

It seems an unlikely place to begin, but let’s ask Haggai how it was going in his day. You remember old Haggai; he was just a couple weeks back in our Bible reading plan. He came to the returned exiles in Jerusalem to find them not doing the very thing God brought them home to do: restore worship in the holy city. What happened? By gleaning Ezra, Nehemiah, Haggai, and the early chapters of Zechariah, a long and formidable list of obstacles comes together. Basically, there were four major monsters to battle: Disappointment, Past Trauma, Opposition, and Distraction. If I were writing a book, rather than a weekly letter, each of these would get a chapter or two. As it is, I’ll ask you to trust me to “contextualize” faithfully, and I’ll trust you to go back and look up whatever I don’t make sufficient sense of. Deal? 

I wouldn’t be doing any harm to holy Scripture to say you and I are in much the same predicament as the returning Jews. God’s people have always been cast as pilgrims and exiles, seeking a city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God (Hebrews 11:10). In the souls of the redeemed, every other city and foundation is merely a tease – at best. There’s no reason to think God’s people, in this present age, wouldn’t run up against the same monsters as our forbears did 2,500 years ago.

When Haggai came to Jerusalem, he expected to see a lot more work done on the temple – a loose paraphrase would have him asking, “What the heck have y’all been doing?!” Really loose paraphrase, but maybe we can hear echoes of Jesus in Haggai. We could ask ourselves and one another, “When Jesus comes again and does the final-and-best work of redeeming his bride, how much work is he expecting us to have done already?” The best answer I can think of: “A great deal.” As in times past, he has given his Holy Spirit as Helper and Advocate – the difference in this age being that the Holy Spirit is not only with or upon the people of God, but within. Does that shed a more favorable light on cooperating with Jesus in this work of redemption? I hope so. Now let’s look at the monsters again.  

It’s tempting to blame Disappointment, Past Trauma, and/or Opposition for the bulk of our troubles. Every one of us has had a belly-full of each, with every reason to expect more before this life is over. But is there anything new under the sun? The old-timers wept with a loud voice when they saw how puny the foundations of the new temple were (Ezra 3:12); the Babylonian exile was a great trauma; enemies of the Jews were willing to kill to stop the work (Nehemiah 4:11). Precedent has been set, big time. So this is where I ask you to remember: I love you, Church. Far more beastly than Disappointment, Past Trauma, and Opposition all rolled together, Distraction leads the pack of monsters. 

“Life comes at you fast,” as one ad agency was hired to say. I can’t say it’s untrue. I may also say that our concept of “fast” is off to a large degree. Is there time to accomplish every work the Lord assigns us? Jesus would say so – see, for example, Matthew 6:33. I like agreeing with Jesus, and I know most of you well enough to believe when you say you do, too. The problem lies in walking out the agreement, doesn’t it? Best I can tell, our most effective strategy will involve putting a sword through the heart of Distraction, and looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2) – and the church he established.

Distraction and affection are mortal enemies. Good husbands will have learned that by now – good parents, too. The realization is open to anyone who’ll take time to notice. Whatever else may be said about love and affection, this may certainly be said: Love and affection without a proper recipient is neither. Distraction blurs the field of recipients. Imagine doing brain surgery and tap dancing at the same time. Right. Given the fact that redemption runs on love, we stand little chance of cooperating with Jesus in the full and final redemption of his church if our affections are pulled anywhere/everywhere else. 

“Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house (the temple) lies in ruins? Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes” (Haggai 1:4-6). Does any of that sound familiar? I can’t imagine it doesn’t. Far be it from me to be throwing guilt on you – my dearest hope is to help you focus. And I’m not throwing rocks at anybody’s “paneled house” (even my own). But I will say this…

My soul perceives that Jesus is doing a clarifying work in each of his churches separately, calling all his brothers and sisters to truly become family within those gatherings. We could grit our teeth and try to be more obedient, try to put up with one another better. Or we could lead with affection, without which redemption can’t happen anyway. All the biggest mistakes I’ve made in the local church can be attributed to misguided affection – or sheer lack of it. When the time is exactly right, Jesus will do a work of unification in the total church, such as we’ve never seen. It may be in the last ten seconds before he receives his bride, but Ephesians 5 guarantees that it will indeed happen. Meanwhile, our mission is to focus our Jesus-powered affections on those tangible, nameable, look-‘em-in-the-eye recipients.

Confession: I have a tough time focusing on the work in front of me. As soon as I set my mind on loving my extended family better, the nuclear family calls me inward. As soon as I set my mind to evangelize my neighborhood, the broader community calls me outward. As soon as I reaffirm my commitment to the local church, the Big-C Church stumbles into a ditch (as if it’s my job to pull her out). As I write this letter, I can’t stop thinking about the meeting I’ll be late for if I don’t make the letter’s deadline (besides putting Stacey and Rita behind in posting it!). The ironic part? None of these recipients are mutually exclusive. Throw in some politics, some noise, a pandemic, and… stuff – you know how it rolls. But I’ll tell you what, dear friends, when I pause just long enough to consider the idea of letting affection take the lead, a little child giggles inside of me. I’m praying, even now, that a good moment’s reflection will give rise to the same sound in you.

Next week we’ll chase down some more dragons. For now, I’ll leave you with the words Paul wrote to the Philippian Christians, once Jesus had him cooling his jets, under house arrest in Rome: God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:8).      

Grace and Peace (and a clean kill on distraction),

John