Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Need to See

Jonathan Parnell post: Don't You Know Jesus Is Real

The apostle John shows us a vision in Revelation 5.
There is a Lamb standing as though it has been slain. It has seven horns and seven eyes — eyes which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. It goes forward and takes a scroll from the right hand of him who is seated on the throne. And when this happens, in that moment, four living creatures and twenty-four elders fall down before the Lamb. They are each holding harps, and also bowls of incense that represent the prayers of the saints. They all fall down, and then they begin to sing,
Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth. (Revelation 5:9–10)
Then, from around the throne and the sound of these voices comes the sound of other voices. Angels start singing. Myriads and myriads of angels. Thousands of thousands of angels. They are all singing now, loudly, powerfully, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Revelation 5:12).
And then, beyond the four creatures and the elders and the angels, every single creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea exclaims, “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” (Revelation 5:13).

Two Questions

The scene is too much for us. It is so holy, so deep, that it feels almost strange to imagine such through the black ink of English letters on paper. But we do. We can.
We can read John’s vision. He wrote it down for us so that we would read it. He wants us to see what he saw. And when we do, when we read these words, there are two central questions we must face. There are two things we must encounter before we turn to the next chapter.
  1. Did you see what this says about Jesus?
  2. Do you believe that he is real?

The Need to See

Did you see it? I don’t mean whether you read the words, or even if you imagined the scene. Did you see what it says about Jesus? That there is one worthy — the Lion of Judah, the Root of David (Revelation 5:5). That he was slain, and that by his blood he ransomed a people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation (Revelation 5:9). That the one who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood has also made us a kingdom and priests to our God (Revelation 5:10; 1:5). Do you see the honor given him? That he is worthy to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing (Revelation 5:12). That to him belongs blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever (Revelation 5:13). Did you see that?
Maybe you did. I hope you did. But now there is the second question. Do you believe it? Do you believe that the Jesus described in these wonderful words isreal?

Very Real

Apocalyptic genre aside, incredible vision put on hold, do you believe that the Jesus here referred to is a real person? Do you think that one so worthy of worship and glory is as real as the realest object you can put your hands on? Can you picture, as a possible scenario, you putting your arms around the shoulders of this man? Can you feel what it would be like to hug him like you would hug your dad? That you could embrace him? That with these arms, our arms, my arms, I might pull him close to me and press my ear next to his? Do you believe that you could, with your fingers, trace the blistered scars on his hands, and then, as clear as you’ve ever heard anything before, listen as he speaks to you? He says something to you. He looks at you with his eyes, and he speaks to you. He says your name. He does. He says that he loves you. He says that he has all authority in heaven and earth and that he’ll never, ever leave you.
Do you believe he is real like that?
Because if you do — if you see the way Jesus is described in Revelation 5, and if you believe that this Jesus is real — then what is there that we would not do for him?

Fearless in Him

I am convinced that if we could see him here, if we could grasp a fraction of what it means to have all power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing, and if we believe that he is real, so real that we could touch him, hear him, sit next to him, eat a meal with him — if we’d know him and believe him like this — then there is no endeavor for his sake for which we’d be too afraid.
So there are nearly 7,000 unreached peoples on the earth — Jesus is real. Let’s go.
So the secularized West needs the revival of a multiplying church planting movement — Jesus is real. Come with us.
Spend three afternoons a week to mentor troubled youth in the inner-city — Jesus is real. Sign me up.
Pastor a small church in rural America that has terrible internet bandwidth — Jesus is real. Bury me in the parish cemetery.
Sacrifice time and resources so that strangers might hear the gospel — Jesus is real. Show me where.
Do you see what these verses say about Jesus? Don’t you know that he is real?

Bless God!

A terrible beauty, O God,
    streams from your sanctuary.
It’s Israel’s strong God! He gives
    power and might to his people!
O you, his people—bless God!

Ps 68:35 [Message]

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Engagement and Holiness

Bethany post: 843 Acres: Evangelical Churches in NYC

Praise: This weekend, Redeemer celebrates its 25th anniversary. Over the years, God has seen fit not only to grow Redeemer, but also to begin at least 100 churches in center city, including Trinity Grace, Apostles, Metropolitan Faith, Dwell, and more. For these blessings, we sing, “Shout for joy to God, all the earth! Sing the glory of his name.” [1] With praise, though, there is caution.
History: In “Our Place in the Story,” Tim Keller briefly recounts the evangelical history of NYC. After highlighting how the evangelical awakening, which emphasized conversion through hearing the gospel proclaimed, affected the churches in the 1700s, Keller moves to the 1880s, when evangelical churches were unsure how to reach the new Catholic immigrants and were being superseded as social gathering places by the city itself.
Split: To stay relevant, the Protestant churches moved uptown and built stately buildings, like First Baptist at 79th and Brick Pres on Park Avenue. But the decline didn’t stop and, eventually, there was a split. The Presbyterians pursued Liberalism, relegating the preaching of the gospel and seeking conversion through “loving action, social reform, and education.” The Baptists pursued Fundamentalism, developing “a very combative stance toward the city” and focusing on “materialism and moral evils.”
Call: “In a short newsletter article,” Keller continues, “it is impossible to avoid over-generalization. Yet it is not hard to see that, by the second half of the 20th century, the old kind of Protestant evangelicalism—true to historic orthodox doctrine, yet also intellectually robust and socially engaged—was weak or vanished in New York City. And now it is growing back … However, we too face the issue of a culture that is not interested in what we have to say. How do we reach them? We must not make the same mistake again. We must not respond with either withdrawal nor with assimilation to the spirit of the age.”
Prayer: Lord, Although we see praises for your mighty works in Psalm 66, we also know that the people who saw those miracles—the turning the sea into dry land and the walking through the waters on foot—worshipped idols just three months later. Therefore, in light of our praise to you for your work in our city, we admit that we’re apt to forget you. May we love our city to life, as we cling to both engagement and holiness. Amen.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Even If

Vaneetha Rendall post: What If the Worst Happens?

I found myself growing fearful. Not a heart-stopping, all-encompassing fear, but the kind of constant gnawing that occurs when you look at the discouraging trends of the present and assume things will never change. When you think about the future and wonder, “What if the worst happens?”
What if.
I’ve spent a lifetime considering the “what ifs.” Those questions have a way of unsettling me, destroying my peace, leaving me insecure.
People in the Bible were uneasy about “what if” questions, too. When told to lead the Israelites, Moses asked God, “What if they don’t believe me?” Abraham’s servant asked about Isaac’s future wife, “What if the young woman refuses to come with me?” Joseph’s brothers asked, “What if Joseph bears a grudge against us?” All of them wondered what would happen if circumstances went awry. Just like we do.
We all face a staggering array of “what ifs.” Some are minor issues while others have life-altering repercussions. What if my child dies? What if I get cancer? What if my spouse leaves me?
The uncomfortable truth is, any of those things could happen. No one is free from tragedy or pain. There are no guarantees of an easy life. For any of us. Ever.
I was considering this sobering reality a few months ago. Over the course of several days, I had brought numerous longings and requests before the Lord. I wanted them fulfilled. But the unthinkable question haunted me: What if my inmost longings are never met and my nightmares come true?
As I sat poring over my Bible, I was reminded of the questions I had wrestled with for decades. “Is God enough? If my deepest fears are realized, will he still be sufficient?” Each time those questions had come up in the past, I’d pushed them out of my mind. But this time, I knew I needed to face them.
I wondered: If my health spirals downward and I end up in an institution, will God be enough? If my children rebel and never walk closely with the Lord, will God be enough? If I never remarry and never feel loved by a man again, will God be enough? If my ministry doesn’t flourish and I never see fruit from it, will God be enough? If my suffering continues and I never see the purpose in it, will God be enough? I wish I could have automatically said, “Yes, of course God will be sufficient.” But I struggled. I didn’t want to give up my dreams, surrender those things that were dear to me, relinquish what I felt entitled to.
I reflected on my unilateral unwritten contract with God, where I promise to do my part if he fulfills my longings. I reluctantly admitted that part of my desire to be faithful was rooted in my expectation of a payback. Didn’t God owe me something?
Reluctantly, I opened my hands, filled with my dreams, and surrendered them to him. I didn’t want to love God for what he could do for me. I wanted to love God for who he is. To worship him because he is worthy.
God’s presence overwhelmed me as I relinquished my expectations. He reminded me that I have something far better than a reassurance that my dreaded “what ifs” won’t happen. I have the assurance that even if they do happen, he will be there in the midst of them. He will carry me. He will comfort me. He will tenderly care for me. God doesn’t promise us a trouble-free life. But he does promise that he will be there in the midst of our sorrows.
“God doesn’t promise us a trouble-free life.”
In the Bible, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were not guaranteed deliverance. Just before Nebuchadnezzar delivered them to the fire, they offered some of the most courageous words ever spoken. “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it . . . But even if he does not, we want you to know that we will not serve your gods . . . ” (Daniel 3:17–18).
Even if.
Even if the worst happens, God’s grace is sufficient. Those three young men faced the fire without fear because they knew that whatever the outcome, it would ultimately be for their good and for God’s glory. They did not ask “what if” the worst happened. They were satisfied knowing that “even if” the worst happened, God would take care of them.
Even if.
Those two simple words have taken the fear out of life. Replacing “what if” with “even if” is one of the most liberating exchanges we can ever make. We trade our irrational fears of an uncertain future for the loving assurance of an unchanging God. We see that even if the worst happens, God will carry us. He will still be good. And he will never leave us.
“Even if the worst happens, God will carry us.”
Habakkuk models this exchange beautifully. Though he had pleaded with God to save his people, he closes his book with this exquisite “even if” . . .
Even if the fig tree does not bloom and the vines have no grapes,
even if the olive tree fails to produce
and the fields yield no food,
even if the sheep pen is empty
and the stalls have no cattle—
Even then,
I will be happy with the Lord.
I will truly find joy in God, who saves me. (Habakkuk 3:17–18)
Amen.

God - You're My God!

So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,
    drinking in your strength and glory.
In your generous love I am really living at last!
    My lips brim praises like fountains.
I bless you every time I take a breath;
    My arms wave like banners of praise to you.

Ps 63: 2-4

Friday, September 12, 2014

In God I Trust

Bethany post at 843 Acres: Persecutions by ISIS


M’Cheyne: Eze 15 (txt | aud, 1:14 min)
Ps 56-57 (txt | aud, 2:35 min)
Highlighted: Ps 56-57
ISIS: In Iraq, ISIS is systematically slaughtering Christians and other religious minorities. Amnesty International now describes northern Iraq as “blood-soaked killing fields.” How are we to view these persecutions and atrocities?
Persecution: David was no stranger to persecution. In Psalms 56 and 57, he was running from Saul, who wanted to kill him because God had anointed him as king in Saul’s place. He described Saul and his 3,000 men in Psalm 57: “My soul is in the midst of lions; I lie down amid fiery beasts—the children of man, whose teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongues are sharp swords.” [1] In Psalm 56, he wrote, “All day long, they injure my cause; all their thoughts are against me for evil. They stir up strife, they lurk; they watch my steps, as they have waited for my life.” [2]
Trust: How did David face these life-threatening circumstances? First, he acknowledged his real emotions: “When I am afraid …” and cried out in lament: “You have … put my tears in your bottle.” [3] Then he looked up: “In God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?” [4] Many years later, Jesus echoed David’s thoughts: “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” [5] In other words, both David and Jesus were saying that there are things more valuable than safety—namely, being in relationship with God.
Prayer: Lord, We do not pretend to understand the fears and emotions of our brothers and sisters abroad, as they face death daily in the hands of their oppressors. Yet we long to pray for them. Therefore, we plead for you to give them great assurance of faith that they belong to you so that they may not faint nor falter in your service, but go through it resolutely and bravely. Lift your countenance upon your people that they may not repent of being called yours. And make your name great. As Diocletian, who greatly persecuted the church, observed, “the more he sought to blot out the name of Christ, the more it became legible.” And as David pled for justice to be done against his oppressors, we, too, pray for justice: “For their crime will they escape? In wrath, cast down the peoples, O God!” [6] Amen.

Central and Abiding

Tony Payne post:  Ministry Manifesto

Late last year we had a talkfest here in Sydney called "The Festival of Dangerous Ideas," at which participants could experience the frisson of discussing daring and explosive concepts with a soy latte in hand. Most of the ideas were in fact rather conventionally dangerous in a green-left sort of way, although gay activist Dan Savage received special marks for his dangerous idea that abortion should be made mandatory for 30 years to make a dent in the worldwide population problem. (The audience, having escaped the womb safely themselves, felt confident to clap.)
However, at one point in one of the debates, something remarkable happened. In a moment of real courage, Peter Hitchens (brother of Christopher) suggested that the most dangerous idea in the world was that "Jesus Christ was the son of God and rose from the dead." [1]
The audience cheered, thinking that Hitchens was channelling his late brother in a religion-poisons-everything sort of way. But when asked why Jesus' resurrection was dangerous, Hitchens said this:
Because it alters the whole of human behavior and all our responsibilities. It turns the universe from a meaningless chaos into a designed place in which there is justice and there is hope and, therefore, we all have a duty to discover the nature of that justice and work towards that hope. It alters us all. If we reject it, it alters us all as well. It is incredibly dangerous. It's why so many people turn against it.
The audience lapsed into a deathly silence. It was as if someone had just praised Margaret Thatcher.

Daring and Explosive

The whole incident (and festival) was sobering and encouraging at the same time. It showed graphically just how despised and marginal the Christian gospel is, and how far gone our public intellectual conversation has strayed from a biblical worldview. But it also showed, just fleetingly, how daring and explosive the Christian gospel is; how shocking, how confronting, how dangerous.
It's the kind of message that comes with a manifesto.
With the launch of our new online platform GoThereFor.com, we thought it would be an excellent time to issue just such a manifesto—to make a fresh statement about the dangerous, urgent, world-changing task of Christian ministry. It's a task that we all share, and which the GoThereFor.com platform is seeking to promote and facilitate.
Admittedly, ministry and manifesto aren't words that immediately look like they belong together. A manifesto is the clarion call to action of a revolutionary movement or political party; it sets out the ideas that this group stands for, and by which they seek to change society and the world. Ministry on the other hand evokes the mostly harmless set of tasks that a minister does. It conjures up thoughts of church services, pastoral visitation, small group Bible studies, and possibly cucumber sandwiches.
But if the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is indeed the most explosive news in the world—if he has died for sins and risen to be Saving Lord of the world—then the work he has given us to do in his service is a dynamic, world-changing task. And it is not optional.
If Jesus holds all authority in heaven and on earth, then our service is an act of obedience. Ministry in Jesus' name is a joy and privilege that we undertake gladly and gratefully; but it is also an act of submission. Our slavery to him is perfect freedom, but it is slavery all the same. It is a life spent at the bidding of Another.
In the manifesto we pick up the language of the Great Commission to express this truth—but it could have been drawn from numerous other parts of the New Testament, such as Paul's solemn final charge to Timothy in 2 Timothy 3 and 4. We've been given a job to do. There is a "work of the Lord" in which we should all be "abounding" (1 Cor 15:58).
What is this work?
The manifesto describes it in a few ways: "to make new disciples and to teach them to obey all that Christ has commanded"; "evangelizing the world and edifying the church"; "to make disciples, to plant new churches and ministries, to revitalize and grow existing churches, to see by God's blessing multitudes of new and growing believers giving glory to his name."

Three Reasons

In one sense what we're saying is uncontroversial. It's what Christians have been working away at for 2,000 years, after all. We might wonder why we need a manifesto to call us to do what most of us agree we should be doing anyway.
For at least three reasons that I can identify.
The first is clarity. In the midst of everything that clamors for our attention, and with multiple gurus giving us the benefit of their advice, it's easy to become vague or muddled about what we're actually supposed to be doing as God's people. Clarity of purpose starts to disappear in a fog of competing voices, competing ministry models, competing interest groups in our churches, not to mention competing needs crying out for attention.
It was interesting (and encouraging) after writing The Trellis and the Vine to be told repeatedly: "Yes, that's exactly what I've always believed about ministry, but you've managed just to say it in a clear, coherent, compelling way." The great strength of that book was in fact its intense ordinariness. In God's kindness, we managed to state the obvious at a time when people needed to hear it.
That's what a manifesto can do. It can clear out the cobwebs and the fuzziness, and provide some bracing, head-clearing clarity about the task at hand.
This point leads to a second and related reason for a manifesto: focus. Even if we are clear in our own minds about the work that God has given us to do, it's extraordinarily easy to still not get around to actually doing it. We get distracted. Like the disciples, our eyelids become heavy. The bright lights beckon, and we meander into worldliness.
But it's not just laziness or our sinful frailty. It's also possible to lose our focus simply by focusing somewhere else. There are so many sorts of good works that we will (and should) do as Christ's people—in our families, in our neighbourhoods, in our church relationships, in our workplaces, in our society. These godly works show forth the fruit of the Spirit, adorn the gospel, and bless our communities. The ongoing fruit of repentance and faith in Christ is that we become a new kind of person—with new thoughts, instincts, and attitudes—and we carry this new "self" with us into every sphere and situation of life.
However, within the framework of these many and varied "good works," there is a particular "work of the Lord" for us to be abounding in. This is the work that has been entrusted to us, and that we are commissioned and commanded to be doing; a work for which we have a mandate and a responsibility, and which draws its overriding importance from the purposes of God for our world.
This is why the manifesto says "our involvement in this work of God should be the central priority of our lives as disciples of Jesus and of our churches as loving fellowships of disciple-making disciples."
Among the many competing activities and priorities of our lives and churches, and among the many good causes and ventures we can be part of, we cannot neglect what is central and abiding—the work of making disciples.
Among the many competing activities and priorities of our lives and churches, and among the many good causes and ventures we can be part of, we cannot neglect what is central and abiding.
The third reason for a manifesto follows. If we can find clarity and focus, then this is an excellent basis for unity. Christians will never agree on everything. You only have to belong to a church for more than five minutes to experience as much. But if we can agree together on the basic and essential nature of the ministry that the Lord has given us to do, then our disagreements and differing views on secondary matters can be put in their rightful place.
There is nothing like a common task to bring people together—especially when that life-and-death task challenges and stretches us, uses our various strengths and different gifts, and demands that we work at together, shoulder to shoulder, in the strength God provides.

Root Problem

These three reasons for a manifesto in the end devolve back to one root problem, which is sin. Because of sin—in the world, in our hearts, in our churches, in our families—we are constantly drawn away from obedience to the ministry our Lord has given us, just as we lapse from praying and from putting to death what is earthly in our lives, and so much more. Because of sin, there is constant slippage in our lives and churches—away from the ministry that God wants us to do. We see this degradation in multiple ways—in distractions, alternatives, opposition, quarrels about priorities, worldliness, laziness, entropy, personal insecurity, incompetence, the hunger for novelty, or just forgetfulness. At many times and in various ways, our participation in the work of the Lord diminishes rather than abounds. It ceases to be the central unifying priority and becomes one priority among many.
This Ministry Manifesto, then, aims to draw us back to the main game by clearly restating the "first things that our ministries should focus on but from which we are easily diverted."
Feel free to make use of the manifesto in your church or fellowship. Read and discuss it in your Bible study group, your church leadership group, or around the dinner table. Does it reflect your own manifesto of essential Christian ministry? Does it provide the kind of clarity your group or church or fellowship could use to re-focus and reboot what you're doing together?
And if it does reflect the heart of what you believe about ministry, are those beliefs being reflected in what actually happens? What is distracting or stopping or hindering you? What needs to change?
We hope and pray this manifesto, and the GoThereFor.com site in general, will help to stimulate, build, and encourage a fellowship of disciple-makers from churches all over God's world.