A house upon the sand?

In the course of his sermons expounding on the Sermon on the Mount, John Wesley comes to consider the significance of Matthew 7:21-27. In that discourse, he begins by sketching out what it means to build our house upon the sand.

Near the beginning of the sermon, he singles out the preacher as one at risk.

After I have thus successfully preached to others, still I myself may be a castaway. I may, in the hand of God, snatch many souls from hell, and yet drop into it when I have done. I may bring many others to the kingdom of heaven, and yet myself never enter there. Reader, if God hath ever blessed my word to thy soul, pray that he may be merciful to me a sinner!

This is a warning that cuts to the heart and highlights the temptations preachers face. To so many people, we are the face of piety and faith. This is often not deserved and certainly not sought, but it remains. Wesley here shakes us from such delusions.

Wesley goes on — in his typical fashion — to warn against relying on good works or being innocent of any outward harm. These are also sand if relied upon to take the place of real Christianity. To those who can preach and teach all orthodoxy, who do no harm, and how a diligent in doing good, Wesley warns we may hear a harsh word from Christ in the last day.

Even then I did not know you as my own; for your heart was not right toward God. Ye were not yourselves meek and lowly; ye were not lovers of God, and of all mankind; ye were not renewed in the image of God; ye were not holy as I am holy.

Once again, we come face-to-face with the essential element of Christianity as understood from a Wesleyan perspective: holiness of heart and life.

I am reminded when reading Wesley how he distinguishes between things that I often hear others conflate. The goal of Christianity is new creation, holiness of heart and life, to be remade in the likeness of Christ. The means to this goal are conviction, justification, assurance, good works, piety, and so on.

I am often tempted to confuse the means with the end. I confuse the outward and inward activity for the actual change and transformation that these things are meant to foster. And I confuse myself about the basis on which Jesus will judge all humanity at the end of the age. He will not judge whether we practiced the means. He will judge whether we achieved the end.

Wesley closes the sermon — and therefore his series of 13 sermons on the Sermon on the Mount — with an exhortation to the practice of a religion of the heart.

Let thy religion be the religion of the heart. Let it lie deep in thy inmost soul. Be thou little, and base, and mean, and vile (beyond what words can express) in thy own eyes; amazed and humbled to the dust by the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. Be serious. Let the whole stream of thy thoughts, words, and actions flow from the deepest conviction that thou standest on the edge of the great gulf, thou and all the children of men, just ready to drop in, either into everlasting glory or everlasting burnings! Let thy soul be filled with mildness, gentleness, patience, long-suffering towards all men; — at the same time that all which is in thee is athirst for God, the living God; longing to awake up after his likeness, and to be satisfied with it! Be thou a lover of God and of all mankind! In this spirit do and suffer all things! Thus show thy faith by thy works; thus “do the will of thy Father which is in heaven!” And, as sure as thou now walkest with God on earth, thou shalt also reign with him in glory!

In his day, such an exhortation drew thousands to Methodism and repelled thousands more. It was met with the charge that Methodists held out too high a standard for Christianity. People could not attain this and remain in the world. It would cause men and women to despair of salvation. It was fanaticism not fit for a reasonable religion.

We have — more or less — sided with Wesley’s critics. Few of us could read the paragraph quoted above and relish it as a portrait of the faith to which we aspire and to which we call our brothers and sisters.

I am left, though, with the question suggested by Jesus’ warning. In ignoring Wesley’s teaching here are we building our house upon the sand? Is that why we are so badly buffeted by the floods and storms of our age?

In his footsteps

Some thoughts on 1 John 2:1-6.

My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.

I love that “but.” John is saying — and has just written with a stark image of darkness and light — that we should not sin. BUT if we do sin.

In other words, John is a realist. Indeed, he knows himself. He speaks of “our” sins and the advocate that “we” have in Jesus Christ. He writes in the first person, placing himself among the sinners.

I notice, as well, the atonement language here. Jesus is the “atoning sacrifice,” as the NRSV puts it, or the propitiation. What a contested word we have here. I’m not up on the debate enough to comment, but I will rest on the simple point that John sees in Jesus’ death a radical cure for sin, not only ours but the world’s.

It is not just Paul who makes such a big deal about the death of Jesus and the cross and all that goes with it. Any Christian theology that shies away from the significance of the cross is missing something of utmost importance about Jesus Christ.

Now by this we may be sure that we know him, if we obey his commandments. Whoever says, “I have come to know him,” but does not obey his commandments, is a liar, and in such a person the truth does not exist; but whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, “I abide in him,” ought to walk just as he walked.

What a series of hammer blows to lazy faith we find here. John does not write it just once and move on. He circles around his point and piles it on. If we claim to know God but do not obey his commands, we are liars. Just a few verses earlier, he said the same thing. If we say we have fellowship with him but walk in darkness, we lie and the truth is not in us.

It is interesting to me how much of these early verses of 1 John are tied up in testimony and action. There is a real concern with how well our actions match our words, and whether our words are shown to be true in our deeds.

That last verse about walking as he walked sounds like an outline of discipleship to me. There is a sermon series there, I would think: Walking like Jesus.

And how is it that we can walk the way he did? Not because we are creatures of light and goodness, no. We can walk as he walked because he is the atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world. If we confess our sins, he will cleanse of of all unrighteousness (1 Jn 1:9).

As I reflect on these verses, I find that John is offering us a fairly easy to use litmus test for the disciples of Jesus Christ. We in the United Methodist Church talk a fair amount about wanting to make disciples, but we are not often very good at describing what it means to be a disciple. Here is an answer. Obey his commandments. Walk as Jesus walked.

I need a new pair of sandals.

Do you want to be healthy?

You have no reason to take the recommendation I am about to make. I have no place dispensing advice on leadership or fostering organizational health. I’m a Myers-Briggs INFP who has spent most of my life in more-or-less solitary work.

All that said, I think every church leader should read Patrick Lencioni’s book The Advantage: Why Organizational Health Trumps Everything Else in Business.

While the book is geared toward business, the insights clearly apply to churches.

Lencioni describes healthy organizations this way:

  • Minimal politics
  • Minimal confusion
  • High morale
  • High productivity
  • Low turnover

Wouldn’t you like to be part of a church that fits that description? Do you know a church that falls short on one or more of those dimensions?

Lencioni’s book is organized around describing four disciplines that are necessary for organizational health.

  • Building a cohesive leadership team
  • Creating clarity
  • Overcommunicating clarity
  • Reinforcing clarity

In addition to description and examples, the author also offers steps that an organization could take to build strength in these areas. I found nearly every section of the book challenging and inspiring.

For instance, under the discipline of creating clarity, Lencioni offers six questions every organization needs to be able to answer and every member of the leadership team needs to agree about.

  1. Why do we exist?
  2. How do we behave?
  3. What do we do?
  4. How will we succeed?
  5. What is most important, right now?
  6. Who must do what?

Lencioni describes each of these questions in depth and outlines methods for arriving at answers to them. Wouldn’t it be exciting to be part of a church that could work through those questions and arrive at answers that all the key leaders embraced? I know my answer is “yes.”

I offer these examples from the book to give you a taste of the topics in the book. Of course, there is much more depth than a few bullet points can convey.

The ministry of order is an area in which I need to grow quite a bit before I am fit for ordination in the UMC. I think this book will be an important tutor for me. A line from the last chapter will stay with me for a long time.

There is just no escaping the fact that the single biggest factor determining whether an organization is going to get healthier — or not — is the genuine commitment and active involvement of the person in charge. … For a church, it’s the pastor.

I have to say, I believe he is right. Lord, help me act on that belief.

Thanks, Chad, for a good idea

Chad Holtz reports on how his ministry has been impacted by not blogging or reading about the controversies in the UMC.

And praise be to God we have seen the fruit of such labor!   In the past 12 weeks we have baptized 13, brought in 29 new members (with more coming this Sunday), reshaped the vision and focus of our Sunday worship from a traditional, gospel feel to a more modern/contemporary feel, and increased community awareness about the recovery ministry we are gearing up to launch in November which promises to transform hundreds if not thousands of lives in our county starving for such a holistic, Christ-centered ministry.   I don’t share any of this to boast but to simply yet loudly announce this to my colleagues living in cyber space on both sides of this issue:   Get off the computer and get to work!   

If we want war, we have it

My favorite blogging DS, Sky McCracken, has added to what is a growing genre of blog posts appealing for more Christian discourse in the midst of our differences. Several other Methodist bloggers have weighed in on this topic recently.

McCracken writes, in part:

If we want war, we already have it. But if we want to be people of peace who truly embrace Jesus – we HAVE to sit with each other. Talk. Build relationships. Pray. Desire to have a heart that is at peace rather than at war. Listen. Quit labeling. Quit looking for “code” words. Long before we had any books on conflict resolution, we had Jesus modeling all of these things.

In my seminary classes, we use a book by Marshall Rosenberg called Nonviolent Communication. In it, he argues for a form of communication that is oriented toward observing facts, naming our own feelings, taking responsibility for them, and making requests of one another. (A one page summary of the model is here.) The goal is not to persuade but to understand. Rosenberg argues that we should put down the tools of persuasion and rhetoric and the seductive power they provide.*

Needless to say, this is not the kind of discourse we often see on the Internet. It may not be a form of communication possible in a disembodied medium like this. But reading the book again this week for class does bring home the contrast between Rosenberg’s ethic and the strategic rationality (to use a term from Jurgen Habermas) that dominates our discourse.

It has me pondering what I might do to change things. Please note, I am intentionally turning my gaze inward here. It is easy to say what everyone else should do. But — as I learned in family systems theory — the only part of the dysfunctional system I can change is myself. And so, I am thinking about that today.


*For what it is worth, I am not giving a blanket endorsement of Rosenberg’s book. His theological base assumes all humans are by nature good and compassionate, and he finds talk of sin and moral guilt life destroying. With some revisions to account for fallen humanity and redemption in Christ, much of what he says is both helpful and instructive, but I do not embrace his theology (largely unstated) or anthropology (explicit from the first sentence).

Community without Christ

Ed Stetzer’s reflections after discovering that the son of progressive evangelical Tony Campolo has become an atheist chaplain contain several good points that are worth your time to read.

One of the one’s that caught my eye goes like this:

In this extremely informative and compelling talk Bart gave earlier this year to the SSA Annual Conference, he is quite clear that he embraced a Christian community, but not the Christian faith.

As parents, we need to work to ensure our children have a relationship with Jesus, not just a desire to be part of a loving community doing good. In other words, we need to ask, are we discipling or merely socializing our children in church?

One thing that has struck me about some the church talk I’ve been around since I started attending church on a regular basis is how much church is sold as a community. In some settings, this is so strongly emphasized that it can feel as if the community is more important that Jesus Christ himself.

John Wesley wrote that church is a body of believers who gather first to save their own souls, second to help each other in working out their own salvation, and third to roll back the kingdom of Satan and set up the kingdom of Christ. Community serves these ends and it may be the final result of these efforts, but community itself is not the point of it all.

It may just be the introvert in me speaking, but I do think we get that out of whack at times.