This past month, we witnessed the end of an era in American politics and world relations. Just as I will always remember my circumstances when I first heard of the destruction of the World Trade Center Towers on September 11, 2001, I will also remember what I was doing on the evening of May 1, 2011, when I first heard of the death of Osama bin Laden.
The morning of September 11, I woke up in Duncan, OK in a motel room with my parents, the day after my grandma's funeral. Her passing was not unexpected, but nonetheless it was a tough day. I was handling it relatively well, I think, but then we got the news of the first tower falling. After turning on the news, we watched the second tower fall. I remember being totally baffled, trying to wrap my mind around what happened. I rode back to New Mexico with my brother's family that day, trying to comprehend everything.
Obviously, the last ten years have been tumultuous, and much of it has been blamed on the catalyst that was 9/11/01. We witnessed at least two wars directly linked to the terrorist attacks, both justified and not. We witnessed our president making bold, seemingly justifiable statements (at that time, at least) about the purpose of these conflicts. We also saw his confession that the war in Iraq was based on faulty intelligence (side-note: whether you like Bush43 or not, you should at least consider the guts it took to admit his massive mistakes and miscalculation. Would you have the intestinal fortitude to publicly apologize?). After losing almost 3000 innocent lives on 9/11, thousands more were lost in the pursuit of the leadership of the terror networks who claimed responsibility. It was most definitely a humbling era, compounded with an economic downturn that has been compared most closely with the toughest era in American history. It's been a rough decade.
On May 1, many were rejoicing on the lawn of the White House after the announcement of the death of Osama bin Laden. Just as I remember where I was on September 11, I'll likely always remember the circumstances of that night. In contrast to almost ten years earlier, the circumstances were remarkably normal: Allison received a text from her mom that bin Laden was reportedly killed. What were we doing? Giving our daughter a bath. Something we do every night. As typical as it gets.
So where am I going with this? I'm glad you asked! Even as we anticipated and experienced some of the worst of life through the last ten years, life went on. Even now, though, I have a really hard time rejoicing in a terrorist's death. Will this end the battle? Only the ignorant would say yes. Too many lives have been lost already, and the war continues.
On May 7, I read from the devotional Bible I've been going through this year, a one-year Bible with daily commentary from the "Prince of Preachers," Charles Haddon Spurgeon. I have always enjoyed reading his work because of his ever-present passion for Christ and love for His infallible Word, the Bible. On that day, Spurgeon addressed the death of King Saul (the first human king of Israel), and David's (his God-appointed successor) response. You see, Saul knew God had removed His blessing from his reign as king, and that David had received that blessing. In response, Saul's heart hardened and he lived his life in pursuit of David. David, being a man of God, refused to respond in wrath. He had multiple opportunities to end Saul's life by his own hand, but saw the Lord's anointing on Saul as king as a sign of protection upon him. Eventually Saul killed himself instead of falling at the hands of Israel's enemies. A member of the enemy camp, the Amalekites, eventually made his way to David and took credit for Saul's death (2 Samuel 1). He definitely did not expect the response he received: David ordered his execution for taking the life of the Lord's anointed.
Harsh? Well, yeah. Seriously, wouldn't you be happy about your strongest enemy being destroyed? Spurgeon made an interesting statement in regard to David's response: "The man of God felt no joy in his enemy's death, neither will a gracious heart ever rejoice in the misfortune of others, however cruelly they may have acted." There is much more application and background to be addressed from the story of David and Saul, but this statement sums up the principle of the story very well.
This message, from a different time, era, and covenant, shows us the principle of grace in a very unique manner. While the death of Osama bin Laden is quite significant in our national history, rejoicing in it is quite erroneous. Did it need to happen? Yes. Was it justified through his behavior? Most definitely. Do I believe he deserved a trial? Nope. He had already admitted that the blood was on his hands.
So what justifies this? The New Testament teaches that "the government bears the sword" (Romans 13, 1 Peter 2) and that we are to be subject to governing authorities appointed by God. Our government clearly had the right and responsibility to defend and avenge its people.
But I can't rejoice. Osama bin Laden verbally and vehemently rejected Jesus Christ. The Bible teaches that those who reject Christ spend eternity in Hell. Not a thing to rejoice.
The fighting will not end until the return of our Lord. I pray that my witness of His grace will show that there is still time, RIGHT NOW, to return to Him. I can't rejoice in the death of my enemy. The cost has been too great. But, as a human, I am thankful that this particular wrong has been avenged. Yet, the war rages on.
Life has continued since 2001. I started and finished seminary. Allison started and finished her master's. We moved to Texas. We moved to Colorado. We experienced the agony of a miscarriage and losing my dad. We experienced the joy of becoming parents, and celebrated our daughter's first birthday the day before bin Laden's death. Life moves on. There will be joy and sadness. And God's grace is still available for you.
My prayers are for God's grace to shower your life through Jesus Christ and the peace He offers your soul.
Peace,
Greg
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Fast thoughts...
Fasting, for the Christ-follower, is a discipline meant to draw the individual's thoughts back to our Savior for the purpose of prayer. I've tried a few fasts in the past, but with little success or effectiveness.
This year, for the first time ever, I have fasted for the Lenten season. I challenged our church to consider doing so in order to use the time of fasting to pray for workers in our church's ministries. We've had a tangible amount of growth in some new "front door" activities for the church, and it has become very evident that the "80/20" (20% of the people do 80% of the work) principle is alive and well at First Southern, Pueblo. Many of our leaders where many hats, and it's my goal to lighten everyone's load a bit.
My three-part Lenten fast consisted of: 1) No personal time on Facebook; 2) No junk-food snacking; and 3) no sodas.
Physically, I did pretty well with all three, though I did log on to Facebook a few times when I received a notification in my Inbox that warranted it (the by-product of pastoral ministry, mostly). If an individual sent me a message there, I would generally log on to get their actual email address for a reply, and explain to them that my correspondence was currently on email. To maintain the FSBC page, I created a Twitter account that I linked to the Facebook page (side-note...I'm a former Anti-Tweeter, so it was a bite of humble pie to actually sign up there. It does has its advantages, but I'm still not a Tweet head. Took full advantage of the Kindle-links to try to stretch church-page readers' thinking a bit). Anyway, I did pretty well with the Facebook fast, and truthfully, I discovered I can survive without the excessive narcissism. I have now re-entered the world of Facebook, but with a better perspective, and (for now) a broken pattern of wasted time.
As far as junk-food snacking, I did pretty well, but was assisted by the rising prices of, well, everything. I have a tougher time every day spending how much snacks cost.
Sodas were probably my greatest success. I really get a buzz from carbonation, so it was something tangible and actually useful to remind me to pray. The last soda I had was actually on March 9 (Allison's birthday & Ash Wednesday)... when I went on auto-pilot and automatically got a Diet DP at lunch. Since then, the only fizzy drinks I've had were organic lemonade stuff that was on sale at the grocery store... and barely fizzy (don't tell Allison, though).
The question that really needs to be answered, though, is how well I disciplined myself to pray. I must confess, I didn't do that well. As with previous fasting experiences, I would distract myself with my need for will-power and neglect prayer.
So, without further adieu, I present to you, in no particular order, things I learned or was reminded about myself, occasionally my wife, and even from a few friends at church.
1. I am a VERY weak-willed man
2. I really can survive for 7 weeks without carbonation
3. Facebook is not an essential part of life (seriously, people)
4. If you're going to fast from meat, you better mean it (from a new friend at church)
5. My wife and I tend to watch a lot of TV together, which was made more evident by the fact that she was fasting from TV, and I wasn't
6. I am very easily distracted
7. I need to do my research... didn't realize that, technically, a Lenten fast does not involve Sundays... until the last Sunday of Lent (thanks to my in-house research librarian)
8. 24 hour over-night food fasts are harder than they sound. Turns out my metabolism is a bit spoiled
9. In reference to #8, I'll probably work towards at least a 3 day food fast in the future.
10. God's grace is a good thing. I could have beat up myself over my rather minor faults, but I reminded myself that the purpose of the fast was not the fast itself, but to pray. So, I did
11. The world really doesn't need my "stream of consciousness," and really, it only needs to consistently hear from Jesus
12. I began to figure out the people I missed the most on Facebook by about week 3. Many of them got texts from me, or emails (ah, the joys of multiple forms of communication)
13. Twitter really isn't so bad. It isn't so good, either.
14. We should all spend more time investing in relationships instead of THINKING we're investing in relationships, responding to that friend from 3rd grade's random thought on the flavor of tonight's smoothie.
15. We all need grace. I really don't know how people make it without Jesus. Turn your life over to Him, friends, before it's too late.
I am so thankful to celebrate my Savior's crucifixion and resurrection. I pray your day is blessed, and that you've made the choice to follow Him.
Peace,
Greg
This year, for the first time ever, I have fasted for the Lenten season. I challenged our church to consider doing so in order to use the time of fasting to pray for workers in our church's ministries. We've had a tangible amount of growth in some new "front door" activities for the church, and it has become very evident that the "80/20" (20% of the people do 80% of the work) principle is alive and well at First Southern, Pueblo. Many of our leaders where many hats, and it's my goal to lighten everyone's load a bit.
My three-part Lenten fast consisted of: 1) No personal time on Facebook; 2) No junk-food snacking; and 3) no sodas.
Physically, I did pretty well with all three, though I did log on to Facebook a few times when I received a notification in my Inbox that warranted it (the by-product of pastoral ministry, mostly). If an individual sent me a message there, I would generally log on to get their actual email address for a reply, and explain to them that my correspondence was currently on email. To maintain the FSBC page, I created a Twitter account that I linked to the Facebook page (side-note...I'm a former Anti-Tweeter, so it was a bite of humble pie to actually sign up there. It does has its advantages, but I'm still not a Tweet head. Took full advantage of the Kindle-links to try to stretch church-page readers' thinking a bit). Anyway, I did pretty well with the Facebook fast, and truthfully, I discovered I can survive without the excessive narcissism. I have now re-entered the world of Facebook, but with a better perspective, and (for now) a broken pattern of wasted time.
As far as junk-food snacking, I did pretty well, but was assisted by the rising prices of, well, everything. I have a tougher time every day spending how much snacks cost.
Sodas were probably my greatest success. I really get a buzz from carbonation, so it was something tangible and actually useful to remind me to pray. The last soda I had was actually on March 9 (Allison's birthday & Ash Wednesday)... when I went on auto-pilot and automatically got a Diet DP at lunch. Since then, the only fizzy drinks I've had were organic lemonade stuff that was on sale at the grocery store... and barely fizzy (don't tell Allison, though).
The question that really needs to be answered, though, is how well I disciplined myself to pray. I must confess, I didn't do that well. As with previous fasting experiences, I would distract myself with my need for will-power and neglect prayer.
So, without further adieu, I present to you, in no particular order, things I learned or was reminded about myself, occasionally my wife, and even from a few friends at church.
1. I am a VERY weak-willed man
2. I really can survive for 7 weeks without carbonation
3. Facebook is not an essential part of life (seriously, people)
4. If you're going to fast from meat, you better mean it (from a new friend at church)
5. My wife and I tend to watch a lot of TV together, which was made more evident by the fact that she was fasting from TV, and I wasn't
6. I am very easily distracted
7. I need to do my research... didn't realize that, technically, a Lenten fast does not involve Sundays... until the last Sunday of Lent (thanks to my in-house research librarian)
8. 24 hour over-night food fasts are harder than they sound. Turns out my metabolism is a bit spoiled
9. In reference to #8, I'll probably work towards at least a 3 day food fast in the future.
10. God's grace is a good thing. I could have beat up myself over my rather minor faults, but I reminded myself that the purpose of the fast was not the fast itself, but to pray. So, I did
11. The world really doesn't need my "stream of consciousness," and really, it only needs to consistently hear from Jesus
12. I began to figure out the people I missed the most on Facebook by about week 3. Many of them got texts from me, or emails (ah, the joys of multiple forms of communication)
13. Twitter really isn't so bad. It isn't so good, either.
14. We should all spend more time investing in relationships instead of THINKING we're investing in relationships, responding to that friend from 3rd grade's random thought on the flavor of tonight's smoothie.
15. We all need grace. I really don't know how people make it without Jesus. Turn your life over to Him, friends, before it's too late.
I am so thankful to celebrate my Savior's crucifixion and resurrection. I pray your day is blessed, and that you've made the choice to follow Him.
Peace,
Greg
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
MissionSHIFT: Reading Assignment #2 - "The Gospel in Human Contexts" by Paul G. Hiebert
This is a direct response to Hiebert's Essay. I have yet to read the responses in the text.
"Contextualization of the Gospel" is a sticky subject. Many pastors and ministers automatically cast off the issue as syncretism and refuse to even consider how those who hear their message translate it when they receive it. What has occurred in much of America is a culture that has marginalized the Evangelical church as a subculture of ultra-fundamentalist, hypocritical oafs that are completely out of touch with reality. And frankly, often I agree with their take.
I really appreciate Hiebert's description of ontology, phenomenology, and missiology. Too often, the church expects the world to learn everything the way we do. But in order to truly be contextual, we must put ourselves in their shoes for a while, and try to understand where those we are trying to share the Gospel with are coming from in their response. Every culture gains knowledge in a different way, and responds to the truth of Jesus differently. Hiebert's treatment of different styles of contextualization brings to light the ways missionaries have propagated the Good News of Jesus through history. While the spread of the Gospel is always a good thing, I wonder whether our treatment of culture would see more people come to Jesus. If we really begin to look at HOW we display Christ, we might realize that those around us would likely respond in kind.
The love of our sub-culture has created an interesting dichotomy in the greater community. Many people who do not attend our churches (typically throw-backs to mid-20th century interpretations of Christian culture) like the IDEA that these places of "tradition" still exist. In this sense, it is similar to Hiebert's explanation of minimal contextualization. But are these "traditional churches" truly displaying Christ and reaching people for Him, or just attracting those who are comfortable with that particular interpretation of Christendom? Is there anything "wrong" with our interpretation of the Christian faith? Not necessarily. I just think that we need to realize that mid-20th century USA will eventually die out... and with it many of the religious vestiges that remain. What does the church do then? We've got lots of buildings, but not many disciples.
"Contextualization of the Gospel" is a sticky subject. Many pastors and ministers automatically cast off the issue as syncretism and refuse to even consider how those who hear their message translate it when they receive it. What has occurred in much of America is a culture that has marginalized the Evangelical church as a subculture of ultra-fundamentalist, hypocritical oafs that are completely out of touch with reality. And frankly, often I agree with their take.
I really appreciate Hiebert's description of ontology, phenomenology, and missiology. Too often, the church expects the world to learn everything the way we do. But in order to truly be contextual, we must put ourselves in their shoes for a while, and try to understand where those we are trying to share the Gospel with are coming from in their response. Every culture gains knowledge in a different way, and responds to the truth of Jesus differently. Hiebert's treatment of different styles of contextualization brings to light the ways missionaries have propagated the Good News of Jesus through history. While the spread of the Gospel is always a good thing, I wonder whether our treatment of culture would see more people come to Jesus. If we really begin to look at HOW we display Christ, we might realize that those around us would likely respond in kind.
The love of our sub-culture has created an interesting dichotomy in the greater community. Many people who do not attend our churches (typically throw-backs to mid-20th century interpretations of Christian culture) like the IDEA that these places of "tradition" still exist. In this sense, it is similar to Hiebert's explanation of minimal contextualization. But are these "traditional churches" truly displaying Christ and reaching people for Him, or just attracting those who are comfortable with that particular interpretation of Christendom? Is there anything "wrong" with our interpretation of the Christian faith? Not necessarily. I just think that we need to realize that mid-20th century USA will eventually die out... and with it many of the religious vestiges that remain. What does the church do then? We've got lots of buildings, but not many disciples.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
MissionSHIFT Discussion - Week One
For my regular reader(s) (okay, that made laugh), I am currently participating in a blog discussion with ministers around the country through Lifeway Research. The main discussion is found here: Ed Stetzer's Blog and you are currently reading my little installment. Here goes the return to seminary jargon and abtract thought!
The term "missional" has become quite the catch-word in Evangelical circles. While I've heard the term used throughout my time in seminary (www.swbts.edu, class of 2007), I didn't really start using it myself until moving to Colorado in October 2009, and hearing Ed Stetzer, fearless researcher extraordinaire, speak at our state convention the following week. His research really impacted how I was beginning the approach of pastoring a struggling church in the former steel capitol of the West, Pueblo, Colorado. The term really fit for where God had leading me in mission thought, and helped me begin to wrap my brain around the church re-engaging a community for Christ.
Van Engen brought to light something I had never really considered: Everyone has their own definition for the term "mission." "Missional" became, of sorts, a Missiological trash can. If someone needed a word to describe some aspect of evangelism or church growth, they'd toss out the word as a generic catch-all. The result, as our writers acknowledge is that when everything becomes our "mission," then our mission effectively loses its teeth.
One of the challenges for me in this discussion for me is wrapping my mind around the concept of "Missio Dei." What exactly does that mean? I think learning the definition would help me both in this context, and in the denominational context in which I serve.
The term "missional" has become quite the catch-word in Evangelical circles. While I've heard the term used throughout my time in seminary (www.swbts.edu, class of 2007), I didn't really start using it myself until moving to Colorado in October 2009, and hearing Ed Stetzer, fearless researcher extraordinaire, speak at our state convention the following week. His research really impacted how I was beginning the approach of pastoring a struggling church in the former steel capitol of the West, Pueblo, Colorado. The term really fit for where God had leading me in mission thought, and helped me begin to wrap my brain around the church re-engaging a community for Christ.
Van Engen brought to light something I had never really considered: Everyone has their own definition for the term "mission." "Missional" became, of sorts, a Missiological trash can. If someone needed a word to describe some aspect of evangelism or church growth, they'd toss out the word as a generic catch-all. The result, as our writers acknowledge is that when everything becomes our "mission," then our mission effectively loses its teeth.
One of the challenges for me in this discussion for me is wrapping my mind around the concept of "Missio Dei." What exactly does that mean? I think learning the definition would help me both in this context, and in the denominational context in which I serve.
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