Wage the Right War

One of the mistakes American Christians make is to wage war at the wrong things. We see some hostility in the environment around us, so we react with hostility. We war against a political party. We war against people who oppose our beliefs. We war against systems that are unfair to us. We war against groups that oppose our values. Many churches and Christians believe we are at war with the world. So they take on a hostile stance and angrily attack the immorality out there, bad behavior out there, anti-christian talk out there. They protest and call names and denounce people out there. The Bible says the war is in here. The enemy is not the world out there, it is the worldliness in here.

In fact, our reaction to the sinfulness, the hostility of this world cannot be violent, angry, retaliatory at all. We

can’t wage war that way. Look how it’s described by the apostle Paul.

“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world….we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

2 Corinthians 10:3-5

A few years ago, I wrote a piece for Christianity Today called, Trends in the Abortion Debate: Tracing the history of a thirty-year battle. As I researched the column, it became clear that one of the main figures of the pro-life movement had a disintegrating personal life. He was disciplined by his home church for abandoning his first wife and two children, and for repeated inappropriate relationships with other women. This pro-life crusader also disowned his teenage foster daughter when she became pregnant for the second time, and disowned his adopted son who announced he was gay. The tactics he uses to protest his causes have come under criticism for being offensive and deceptive. The man is warring against something that is wrong out there—and make no mistake it is reprehensibly wrong—but he has apparently failed to fight war in here.

The cause of our warring is the desire from within us, says James 4:1. “What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don't they come from your desires that battle within you?” And Ephesians 6:12 declares that our battle is not with flesh and blood but with the cosmic forces of evil, Satan and his angels. Unless we engage in that battle, our souls will shrivel and fail to thrive. So fight against the impulses and desires that prevent you from living a spiritual life, and wage war against your true self. 

An Alien in America

Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.

1 Peter 2:11

This is the third time Peter has mentioned this already, 1:1 “To God’s elect, strangers in the world,” 1:17 “live your lives as strangers here…” This must be an important concept. If you follow Jesus, do you consider yourself a temporary resident?

We lived in Canada for about 10 years. We were aliens. The technical terms was “landed immigrant.” Under that designation, I could earn a living and pay taxes. But I was not permitted to vote or hold public office. And I couldn’t learn to like hockey. I know all the words to the Canadian National Anthem and enjoy it, but it’s not my anthem. I loved Canada, but I was an American living in Canada, an alien, never a Canadian.

The reality is that even though I’ve been back in the United States for 15 years, I’m still an alien. I say that because as a follower of Christ, this place is my temporary residence. Do you see yourself that way? Really? You belong to Jesus, not America. Your home is heaven, not this world. You are an alien. You’re not completely settled here. There are things you like and enjoy, but it is not home. This is not where you get your identity. Take this seriously and it changes how you look at life and how you react to a hostile world. 

3 Times Real Leaders Emerge

1. When other leaders lack courage to fulfill their responsibilities.

“To be able to lead others, a man must be willing to go forward alone,” said Harry Truman. Real leaders emerge at a time when no one else is willing to step forward. The giant Goliath singlehandedly harassed and immobilized Israel’s great leader. As the Commander in Chief and the tallest Israelite, King Saul was the obvious choice to respond to Goliath’s challenge of winner-take-all combat. Yet, day after day he did nothing other than offer a reward for someone else to do the job [1 Samuel 17:25]. Fear sidelined the established leader, but provided the stage for a new leader named David to emerge.

2. When the risk is greatest.

The glory-hungry and the pretenders seek to lead when the stakes are low. Many are those eager to contribute direction and solutions when failure costs little. But when the risk is life or death for an organization or even people, the real leaders emerge. As Kouzes and Posner put it, “Challenge calls forth leadership.” The challenge issued by the champion of the Philistines was a great risk. It meant life or death for the challenger, and victory or loss for the nation. Martin Luther King said, “If a man hasn’t found something he is willing to die for, he isn’t fit to live.” David was the only one who assessed the situation as something for which he was willing to die [1 Samuel 17:32]. The real leader risked.

3. When no one else recognizes the essential problem.

Saul and the armies of Israel were viewing Goliath’s threat only through the lens of human victory and defeat. David was the only one who identified the true issue. Goliath was defying God himself [1 Samuel 17:36, 45-47]. When the majority are not able to identify the issue of ultimate importance that is the time a real leader emerges. 

The Invisible Shepherd

It was one of those difficult years. We were short of money. I was trying to finish a degree and keep our car running. My wife had another miscarriage. There was a group at the church who didn’t like the pastor. I was that pastor. Things got so tough I began wondering where God was. He seemed to have disappeared from view.

That was the experience of Asaph. In desperation, he wrote Psalm 77. He cried to God for help, but his soul felt shriveled and lifeless. Asaph’s longing for God to act left him unable to sleep. He questioned God and voiced his mistrust. Such cries of agony are acceptable. Shouting our fears and doubts before God is prayer.

Suddenly, Asaph stops crying “I, I, I,” and says “Your miracles…, Your ways…, You are the God of gods.” Before, he was self-absorbed, focused on his disappointments. But now he focused on the Majestic God.

The Psalm ends with a wonderful statement. “Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen.” When God led his people through the Red Sea, Asaph remembers there was no evidence God was there. There was only deliverance.

There are times when there are no footprints, but even without a trace God leads us. At those times when we see no evidence of God’s existence, the Invisible Shepherd is always there. In the miraculous and in the ordinary, in the roaring and in the silence, in the brilliance and in the darkness the invisible shepherd remains.

A navy diver said something about diving deep I found interesting. When you dive deep enough, it becomes so dark it’s almost impossible to keep from becoming disoriented and confused. It could be terrifying not to know which way is up and unable to see your hand in front of your face. Panic easily sets in. The advice of the navy diver was to “feel the bubbles.” The reason was because bubbles always drift to the surface. “When you can't trust your feelings or judgment,” he said, “you can trust the bubbles to get you back to the top.”

What do we do when we don’t know which way is up? How can we survive periods of darkness and gloom? How should we respond when God seems silent and invisible? Prayer is the stream of bubbles leading us toward the invisible shepherd. In desperation we pray, “Lord, it’s not more money, or a better spouse, or another job I need…I’m desperate for you.”

Keep sending up bubbles. Cry out to the invisible shepherd. Even when he seems gone without a trace, even when there are no footprints in the sand, he is right there with you.

Communion: 4 Factors in Keeping the Lord's Table Memorable and Meaningful

It was Communion Sunday. The Table was draped with a spotless, white cloth, covering the stacks of trays. The Pastor looked over the congregation with anger. "There is so much sin among you," he shouted. "None of you are worthy to participate in this observance." Like a thunder clap he was gone, leaving a congregation shocked and confused. This man eventually left the ministry, but not before reducing the church to a small group. Needless to say, that was a memorable Communion. 

Memorable and meaningful are not synonymous. One certainly does not guarantee the other. I must confess that I gave up trying to make Communion more meaningful long ago. Understood properly, it is in itself the most meaningful of acts that the church carries out. Recently, a young couple told me what happened in their pew on Easter Sunday. As I introduced the Table, their grade school daughter began pleading with them to include her. The girl was ready with answers. "I know what the bread means," she whispered. The parents looked at each other. The elements were coming closer. The girl talked about sin and what Jesus did. Then seeing her parents hesitate she added, "Besides, I'm hungry." Mom and Dad said no, whereupon the girl threw a fit. This child is not alone in her lack of clarity regarding the meaning and significance of the Table. How many adults pay little attention to the magnitude and magnificence of this event? What can I do to heighten their awareness? As I gather my people around the Table, there are critical factors I try to keep in mind.

Get Out of the Way
I want to be certain my presence is not intruding upon the moment. I do my best to let my words be few, my movements necessary, and my instructions clear. Some of the most memorable and meaningful remembrances of the Lord's death I have been a part of, were also the simplest. They involved no shining communion trays, no musical instruments, no well-trained servers and no identical servings of bread and cup. Remembering the simplicity of what Jesus instituted guards my propensity to overproduce Communion. The power of the elements themselves is sufficient. I want the word and the Spirit to speak without my well-intentioned interference. Even then there have been times when God's work on me individually has surfaced before all. 

At one service, a song being played caused me to weep as I served the servers. I began to sob uncontrollably. It took some time for me to regain my composure, and it certainly made some uncomfortable. Yet, I was not ashamed. Although I want to stay out of the way, I also must be authentic. It was no fabrication or emotional ploy. It was personal confrontation with the meaning of Communion. Any attempt to manufacture meaning would be akin to holding up an applause sign.

Embrace the Tensions
Is there anything more paradoxical than this observance? We need to feel the shock and shame of the agonizing death of our Savior. We need to sense the horror and heartache of the bloody payment for sin. Yet there is also the unbounded joy of knowing God's love, the exhilaration of forgiveness and acceptance before God. It is Good Friday and Easter all at once. It should be at least difficult if not impossible to participate in Communion without experiencing both sides. Though I want my words to be few, it is my responsibility to explain the tensions. Included in that is the need to both warn and welcome. It is only fair and fitting that we declare who is welcome at the Table. It is not my table, nor the church's, but it is the table of the Lord. All who belong to him are received. At the same time, we must be serious about the warning not to take this lightly and to come with understanding or face the consequences. 

Another tension is between individual and corporate. There must be a "me" focus, regarding personal sin and recognition of the elements. But the "we" focus must not be neglected. This table is not about me, but about the Lord and my relation to him. He has saved a people for himself. Christians around the globe gather around the table and the one loaf testifies to our oneness in Christ. Above all I want the tensions to remain, and do not attempt to alleviate or explain them away. Evangelicals tend to demystify everything. That is a mistake regarding Communion. In its simplicity, there is still a mystery that is inexplicable. I agree with John Calvin. "If anybody should ask me how this communion takes place, I am ashamed to confess that that is a secret too lofty for either my mind to comprehend or my words to declare."

Creativity without Compromise
I come from a non-liturgical tradition, yet every Communion managed to be virtually identical anyway. Now as a pastor, I want to include some variations: 

• liturgy spoken by the people; 
• a phrase repeated by all as they take each element, such as, "Your body bore the weight of my sin;" 
• adequate time allowed for confession through silence, song, written prayers; 
• alternating the way in which people receive the elements: being served, coming forward or tincture (dipping bread into the cup).

Occasionally someone has a suggestion about doing Communion differently. The one I listened to most carefully was from a former All-American football player who could snap me like a twig. Suggestions are welcome, but examined closely. There are theological reasons why we have one Table and not several, why we partake together rather than everyone for themselves, why we use bread and cup. The idea of using elements other than what Scripture mentions accomplishes little other than novelty. Substituting Cool-Aid and pizza just trivializes the truth. 

Years ago, a new attender refused to take Communion because of the type of bread we used. It pushed the Elders to do a study on the subject. We found that although no particular type of bread was required by Scripture, justification could be made for several preferences: 

• common bread; leavened (representing Jew and Gentile in Christ among many other things); 
• loaf (signifying the one sacrifice and the one body); 
• baked (symbolizing God's judgment on sin); 
• unbroken prior to distribution. 

We don't slavishly follow these conclusions, but they do provide parameters. Creative changes can be helpful, but what makes Communion meaningful has far more to do with perception than packaging. I realize that some desire for modification is simply a reaction to ritual. But ritual is not a four-letter word. It does not eliminate being real. Ritual simply means an established or prescribed procedure. That describes Communion. The Table itself is formulaic. Paul said what was "handed to me, I delivered to you." (1 Cor.11:23) We have greater specifics about what was said by Jesus and by the early church regarding Communion, than about any other part of worship. In a search for meaning, we must be wary of jettisoning New Testament language, the order of the elements, their identity, or the closing proclamation. 

Allow for Holy Moments
Recently, a young couple in our church was on the verge of divorce. He battled with alcohol, but that was just part of the problem. Through loving but firm confrontation, God brought them to repentance. A few days later, they came forward during Communion. There they confessed their failings and their desire to begin again. The divorce papers were torn up, and their commitment to one another was renewed. At the same time, they called for the support and prayers of the congregation. This was a blast of reality and honesty totally in keeping with Communion. The Table is about reconciliation with God and with one another. Giving opportunity for such holy moments is important but must be done appropriately and wisely. I will not allow individuals to use the Table as a personal confession booth, but there are significant events within the life of the congregation that are properly and most powerfully dealt with at Communion.

My wife and I had a night alone on an anniversary years ago. We spent the day seeing Niagara Falls, then went to dinner in the Skylon Tower, a revolving restaurant overlooking the Falls. It was 9:30 PM, we were all dressed up and feeling very cosmopolitan. Our reservation put us at a table by the window. Just as we began to enjoy ourselves, a couple was seated right next to us. I mean the guy sitting beside me was closer than my wife. Our elbows were touching. In great contrast to us, the couple was wearing tee shirts and shorts. The fellow ordered a beer and began drinking it out of the bottle. Our air of intimacy evaporated. I was unable to say anything to Amy that this couple couldn't hear equally well. After fifteen minutes, we were still trying to make the best of it when they got up and left. I guess they felt as awkwardly as we did. Intimacy has nothing to do with proximity. 

The apostle Paul calls the bread and cup a participation in the body and blood of Christ. But mere proximity to the Table and ingestion of elements secures nothing. Our presence and participation neither guarantees standing before God, or fellowship with each other. So, in every way permissible, we must call ourselves and others to the bare reality of Communion. This is a multi-sensory reminder that Christ's death is central to our faith. It is not a marker to be admired or a toy to tinker with, it is an event to be experienced. As you lead others into that experience consider these factors. Memorable and meaningful are not synonymous, so get out of the way. There is mystery involved, so embrace the tensions. It's about perception not packaging, so be creative without compromise. This is a divine appointment, so allow for holy moments. Just being there is not enough.

Hitler, Jesus, and Me

Danish director Lars von Trier made some wildly inappropriate comments at the Cannes Film Festival last week. His attempts at humor included deriding Jews, identifying himself as a Nazi, sympathizing with Hitler, and speculating that his next movie could be The Final Solution. It was a Mel Gibson moment.

All this was enough to get von Trier kicked out of the festival, and justifiably so. Afterward, he tried to explain himself with these words: "There's a little bit of Nazi in all of us, and there's a little bit of human being in Hitler, and I think it's dangerous to think otherwise."

As wrong as his first comments were, von Trier was exactly right with this follow-up. The scary truth is that Hitler was not some phantom from another dimension. He was flesh and blood. A man. Like me.

The infamous Nazi, Adolf Eichman, was captured and put on trial in the 1960s. One of the witnesses who identified him had come out of Auschwitz. That in itself was a miracle. In Auschwitz 8,000 Jews could be stripped, gassed and cremated every 24 hours. The chimneys never stopped smoking. But Yehiel Dinur, had survived. Dinur stood in front of the bulletproof glass and stared into the face of the accused war criminal. It was a moment for justice when the once insignificant despised Jew could point the finger of blame at the once fearsome mastermind of the master race.

Instead of accusing, Dinur fell to the floor sobbing. Why? Eichman was not at all what Dinur expected. He didn't see a devil. Instead, Dinur saw a man who was just like himself, and it frightened him. As Dinur revealed in an interview with Mike Wallace, "Eichman is in all of us."

There is some Nazi in all of us. That's why we so desperately need the gospel. To think otherwise is worse than dangerous...it's damning.

Ministry Satisfaction: Interview with Dallas Willard

In my early days of ministry I spent huge amounts of time absorbed in Scripture and great spiritual writers. The Lord made it possible for me to spend whole days—without any issue of preparing for something or taking an examination—soaking up the Scripture. I literally wore out the books of great spiritual writers. This focus was foundational to my spiritual journey, to finding satisfaction in Christ. There is no substitute for simple satisfaction in the Word of God, in the presence of God. That affects all your actions.

Characteristics of dissatisfaction
Preachers who are not finding satisfaction in Christ are likely to demonstrate that with overexertion and over preparation for speaking, and with no peace about what they do after they do it. If we have not come to the place of resting in God, we will go back and think, Oh, if I'd done this, or Oh, I didn't do that. When you come to the place where you are drinking deeply from God and trusting him to act with you, there is peace about what you have communicated.

One of my great joys came when I got up from a chair to walk to the podium and the Lord said to me, "Now remember, it's what I do with the Word between your lips and their hearts that matters." That is a tremendous lesson. If you do not trust God to do that, then he will let you do what you're going to do, and it's not going to come to much. But once you turn it loose and recognize we are always inadequate but our inadequacy is not the issue, you are able to lay that burden down. Then the satisfaction you have in Christ spills over into everything you do.

The preacher who does not minister in that satisfaction is on dangerous ground. Those who experience moral failure are those who failed to live a deeply satisfied life in Christ, almost without exception. I know my temptations come out of situations where I am dissatisfied, not content. I am worried about something or not feeling the sufficiency I know is there. If I have a strong temptation, it will be out of my dissatisfaction.

The moral failures of ministers usually are over one of three things: sex, money, or power. That always comes out of dissatisfaction. Ministers are reaching for something, and they begin to feel, I deserve something better. I sacrifice so much and get so little. And so I'll do this. The surest guarantee against failure is to be so at peace and satisfied with God that when wrongdoing presents itself it isn't even interesting. That is how we stay out of temptation.

Characteristics of a satisfied soul
We are long on devices and programs. We have too many of them, and they get in the way. What we really need are preachers who can stand in simplicity and manifest and declare the richness of Christ in life. There isn't anything on earth that begins to compete with that for human benefit and human interest.

When people hear a preacher who is satisfied in this way, they sense that much more is coming from him than what he is saying. When I hear a preacher like this, I sense something flowing from him. Preachers like that are at peace. They are not struggling to make something happen.

That is one of the biggest issues for ministers today because of the model of success that comes to us. We get this idea we are supposed to make something happen, and so we need services to go just right. The concluding benediction has hardly ceased before those in charge are saying to one another, "How did it go?" or "It went really well." The truth is we don't know how it went. From God's point of view it will be eternity before we know how it went. These folks are not at peace if they are trying to manage outcomes in that way.

One mark of preachers who have attained deep satisfaction is they are at peace and they love what they are doing. Peace comes from them. From such preachers I sense something coming to me that is deeper than the words. Hearers sense the message opening up possibilities for them to live. In the presence of this kind of preacher, people find ways of doing the good that is before their hearts. That is the living water. Jesus brought people that opening up of possibilities. In John 8, when he said to the woman caught in adultery, "Go and sin no more," I don't think she felt,I've got to do that. She experienced Jesus' words as That's really possible. I can do that. That is one characteristic of preaching that comes from a satisfied life.

Another mark of satisfied preachers is they can listen. They can be silent in the presence of others because they are not always trying to make something happen. Such a person has the capacity to listen to people and come to an awareness of the needs that underlie the felt needs. We should be attentive to the felt needs of people, but we should know that the game is at a much deeper level of the soul.

A large part of what the pastor does in preaching and life is to listen and help people feel their real needs, not just superficial needs. The satisfied preacher speaks from a listening heart. Since people often do not know what they really need, such preaching can help them find out. This requires a spaciousness that only comes if your cup is running over because you are well-cared for by God.
Steps toward finding satisfaction
We can take steps to find this deep satisfaction and to preach from the well within us. I encourage pastors to have substantial times every week when they do nothing but enjoy God. That may mean walking by a stream, looking at a flower, listening to music, or watching your children or grandchildren play without your constantly trying to control them. Experience the fullness of God, think about the good things God has done for you, and realize he has done well by you. If there is a problem doing that, then work through the problem, because we cannot really serve him if we do not genuinely love him.

Henri Nouwen said the main obstacle to love for God is service for God. Service must come out of his strength and life flowing through us into receptive lives. Take an hour, sit in a comfortable place in silence, and do nothing but rest. If you go to sleep, that's okay. We have to stop trying too hard. There may be a few pastors for whom that is not the problem, but for most it is. We need to do that not only for ourselves but to set an example for those we speak to.

There is a place for effort, but it never earns anything and must never take the place of God with us. Our efforts are to make room for him in our lives.