The question so few ask

This morning, I was re-reading John Wesley’s sermon “Justification by Faith,” but I did not make it very far before I was brought up short. Indeed, I only made it through the first two sentences.

How a sinner may be justified before God, the Lord and Judge of all, is a question of no common importance to every child of man. It contains the foundation of all our hope, inasmuch as while we are at enmity with God, there can be no true peace, no solid joy, either in time or in eternity.

Ask yourself for a moment: How many people spend any amount of time pre-occupied with this question? Do you know anyone? And yet, for Christians it is among the most important questions in the world.

Christianity starts from a place that the world does not. It starts by saying that the secret to peace, joy, and happiness in this world and the next is getting right with God. It starts by saying that we are unhappy and the world is full of horrors because human beings are in rebellion against God. We do not bend on our knees like Jesus in the garden and say “thy will be done,” but we say “my will be done,” and hence all manner of evils wash over the world.

In America, Christians live in a culture that has turned “my will be done” into the purpose of existence. A lot of this has been done by people who want to sell us things and have discovered that unbridled indulgence of our impulses and desires turns quite a profit. But it also goes deep into our political culture.

So as a Christian who lives in America, and as a pastor, I find it quite difficult to imagine how to move non-Christians and nominal Christians to the place where they can even comprehend the importance of this most basic question. What can I say or do? How do you persuade people that the first step toward joy and peace in their lives is to understand that they are sinners?

I have searched quite a while for an answer, and I have found many who will offer me answers. And yet, so many of them seem to suggest the thing can be done without God. If we hit upon the proper technique, work hard enough, and have enough talent, we can move human hearts. It feels ominously like we are saying we can do it on our own.

And so, I find myself driven to embrace what the church has taught for centuries. It is a work of grace. It is by grace — and not by human art — that a person comes to understand that the problems of the world are as old as Cain and Abel and rooted in the same cause. We are wretched wanderers far from God. It is grace that opens our eyes to the truth that we are far from God and therefore far from the happiness that we crave.

As pastors and Christians, we must speak truthfully about God, but we cannot be discouraged if we are not able to persuade. If the world rejects our diagnosis, we cannot become downcast. While we should work as hard as we can, we must work with the knowledge that it is grace and not our effort that moves the human heart.

And so, we keep asking the question, even if the world shows no interest. The Holy Spirit will do his work. We must do ours.

 

He had me at ‘gelatinous core’

Drew McIntyre is aghast to run across an account of a church practicing a “somewhat non-theistic” form of worship.

Read about it here. Bonus points if you sing the closing hymn out loud.

Making friends with God

No friend, no lover, no husband or wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and wholeness. And by burdening others with these divine expectations, of which we ourselves are often only partially aware, we might inhibit the expression of free friendship and love and evoke instead feelings of inadequacy and weakness. Friendship and love cannot develop in the form of an anxious clinging to each other.

— Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

There are truths we believe but we don’t really understand.

Henri Nouwen’s words have been marked in my book since the first time I read them several years ago. But I have been coming to understand them more deeply since last September. Mostly what I have been coming to understand is how much I have directed my “cravings for unity and wholeness” toward others and how they treat me and speak to me. I have discovered holes in myself that I had been trying to fill with the uncertain kindness and love of others.

Failing that, I turned to a sense – an artificial one – of self-importance and accomplishment, which is just another kind of chasing after praise. I believed that — as Augustine says — our hearts are restless until we find rest in God, but I did not really understand it.

The requirement with finding that sense of unity and wholeness in God is that you have to be well-acquainted with God, which means time devoted to silence and prayer and disciplines of the Spirit. It is not something you can rush through. Ten minutes – or five – with today’s devotion in the Upper Room is not doing it. It is the spiritual equivalent of sending someone a Happy Birthday post on Facebook. You did it. There is even evidence that you thought of the other person. But your life is no deeper for having done it.

As Eugene Peterson has written more than once, pastors of all people are prone to confusing being busy about God-talk and church work with spending actual time with God. Preparing sermons and praying in public and making pastoral calls are good, honest religious work, but they are all on the clock. Friendship with God develops before and after you punch the time clock.

This morning, I was pondering a passage from 1 John when Nouwen’s words came to me.

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world – the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life – comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever. (1 John 2:15-17)

The apostle’s words are not as gentle or even speaking to the same exact point as Nouwen’s. He is issuing a warning, but the ground is similar, I think. John also speaks to us of the ultimate inadequacy of misdirected love. The love is misdirected because it aims toward the wrong thing, and it is misdirected because it is that clinging, needful thing that we often call love because our words are imprecise and we are so good a lying about our own intentions.

I think I am coming to understand this truth more fully. I have much more to learn and much more to do. God is a good friend. He waits patiently for me. I am grateful for that.