students of jesus

It’s one thing to call the prodigals home. It’s quite another to have a home worth returning to.

In a post last year I highlighted Christian prodigals, people who love Jesus but live far from home. They have taken the family inheritance and squandered it on travels in Christendom; left their family in search of something else and live as if their family is dead. In the comments at that post more than one person observed that “home” may not be what Jesus portrayed in his parable:
When you've been harmed by men pursuing their own agenda, it's easy and natural to be skeptical of all church institutions. It becomes hard not to, when it's happened more than once.

It’s a fair question: What if we return home to a place ruled not by the Father, but by older brothers filled with judgment or manipulation?

Another friend texted me to ask what if work or marriage or life have brought about a change of location, and the new landscape is barren and cold? What if you left home for all the right reasons, but there is no family of faith healthy enough to adopt a mature son:
My previous church feels like home and everything in my new city feels like a maternity ward.

He has a point: so many Evangelical churches focus on the new birth to exclusion of worship, community or spiritual formation. What happens if you’ve eaten at a healthy table only to find bread and water at the next?

Still another friend observed that the restless heart of the prodigal needs a transplant:
Christians drifters will never find that perfect church, so they are going to stay just long enough until the newness wears off and they see a few flaws, then it's off to some new church that seems more exciting and more spiritual. Reminds me of Bonhoeffer: "Every human wish dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive. He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter, even though his personal intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and sacrificial."

And when you quote D-Bon, it’s the last word, right? Well, no, actually. These friends and others have only opened the conversation.

Students of Jesus is about spiritual formation. It’s about each of us developing the kind of relationship with the Master that leads to rest and peace. It’s about taking the yoke of discipleship. I’ve tried to avoid criticisms of the church at large because I have no voice or control over the church at large. Besides, church-bashing is so fun and easy it requires no particular insight or revelation. Anyone can do it. Still, it’s true that our personal spiritual formation is not complete apart from the community God intended--the church.

How can we address the deep need for true community of the Spirit when there are churches devoid of such life? How can we hold the Christian prodigal accountable for their own hearts when some have left home out of self-preservation?

To those who have been wounded by the church I would point toward the Lord Jesus. The testimony of John reminds us, “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” (John 1:11) It’s not news that religious houses may be the places most in need of his presence. If we return home with a Christlike character we will be welcomed by some and abused by others. A modern truth: when we return the Father may not be waiting inside the building at all. The older brother may have taken over or--worse--the farm may have failed altogether. In these cases our calling to return may be especially difficult and sacrificial; we will take our place among those Jesus calls “blessed” in the beatitudes.

To those who are searching for a new home I would point toward the journey of Abraham. The father of faith “was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” (Hebrew 11:10) He had seen the blueprint and was searching for where the architect and builder was at work. The benefit of a growing up in a healthy home is that we will not settle for a poor substitute. Our past becomes the blueprint for the future. There is a difference between running from home and looking for a new one: Dr. Tolkien reminds us that “not all who wander are lost.”

To those who see the fatal flaw in human idealism I would point toward the power of the call. Jesus understood that the very offer to “Come and see” can change lives. There was no shortage of idealists in Jesus day. He welcomed those with high ideals and tempered them with down-to-earth teaching about birds, flowers, foxes, wheat and tares. When his disciples believed fire from heaven was the answer he demonstrated the wisdom and true power that flows from keeping after the Father’s business. We can explain there is often a disparity between the builder’s plans and the worker’s craftsmanship. We can help them realize that a thoughtful pastor understands that much of his work may in fact be wood, hay, and stubble.

These are merely fingers in the wind. How should we speak to the Christian prodigal? How can our actions and counsel make a place for those who believe they have no place? There’s no shortage of comment when describing the problem--why not help me explore the solution?

Every word of the Biblical narrative is inspired, but they are not all inspired in the same way.

When that guy in the parable of the Talents tells the Master, “I knew you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed,” we know know the man has it all wrong. Our Lord’s inspired story invites us to consider how a flawed picture of God causes us to make poor choices. Instead, Jesus tells the story to invite us into the Master’s happiness (Matthew 25:14-30) No one would seriously maintain this one man’s description of God was “inspired and true,” would they?

I use this example because lately I have been thinking about Job--the book, and also the man. The scripture assures us Job was a righteous man, and so he was. The scripture tells us he did not sin by charging God with wrong-doing. Too true. When we read the Book of Job, we discover that Job’s friends bring a skewed picture of God, His love, and His justice. We take their words as part of a larger story, not as gospel truth. We know they are wrong. But what of Job?

I wonder if every word he says gives us an accurate picture of God, especially these very famous words:
“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
    may the name of the Lord be praised”
These words are beautiful. Job worships in the midst of heartbreak. But I wonder if we should trust his picture of God.

Did the Lord really take away? Did the Lord inflict suffering in order to win a celestial wager? We do not accept the counsel of Job's friends as godly wisdom. Why should we automatically believe Job that God "gives and takes away?" Today’s post is not an argument--it's a genuine question. Questions like this are the soul of meditation.

I invite you into the discussion--what do you think of Job’s assessment? He is a picture of humility and trust. He ordered his life around the reverent worship of God. I would love to have Job's humble heart and dedicated practices, but perhaps not his theology.

As you join the conversation (leave a comment, and help me meditate), consider two final points. First, when the Lord shows up at the end of the book, he says to Job, “Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge?” and begins to paint a cosmic picture capable of blowing anyone’s mind. Second, Job finally concludes, “Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” and “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.”

What do you think? Come meditate with me.

What kind of God celebrates when smart people are clueless and newcomers are in on the joke? Luke tells the story of seventy men returning to Jesus with news of spectacular ministry results.

At that time Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.” (Luke 10:21)

Jesus dances for joy, he was thrilled that the wise and the learned did not have access to the ways of God. He was delighted that children had discovered the way of the Kingdom.

Jesus revealed the things of God by inviting others to join his mission and carry out his work. Though there has never been a greater teacher in the history of the world, yet Jesus placed a higher priority on innocence than intelligence. He taught in parables; he infuriated the religious wise guys; and he welcomed those foolish enough to simply do what he said.

An omniscient God is not impressed with the size of our intellect, but he is impressed with the size of our heart. How can a finite human mind grasp an infinite God? St. Augustine--although he was one of the greatest intellectuals in history--lamented it was his heart that was too small. He asked God to graciously enlarge the “mansions of his heart,” not the halls of his mind. True, we should love the Lord with all our minds, but the order is important: love comes before knowledge.

The Holy Spirit is not impressed with how many verses we have committed to memory. He does seem to delight in us when even a few of those verses find their way into our everyday lives.

What if our approach to following Jesus is fueled by the world’s idea of wisdom? I suspect we sometimes choose a worldly method to pursue the King of Heaven. The spirit of this age respects knowledge. It’s a given. Knowledge trumps ignorance. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is self-authenticating. When we bring the spirit of this age to our study of Scripture we emphasize the texts which serve the value of knowledge. “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge . . .” How many books have opened with Hosea 4:6 as a call to study? Yet the prophet lamented the personal experience of God, not book-learning.

We have loved knowledge since the Garden of Eden. Today, the western church presents a view of discipleship based upon ever-increasing knowledge, and Christianity becomes a subject to be mastered. As a result those who are smartest become the best disciples. The spirit of this age tells us knowledge is good because it is knowledge. But what if the smartest among us know nothing of love?

Yet woven into the fabric of the Biblical witness is the still small voice of relationship. It warns of the dangers of knowledge. “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” comes the whisper. Later on the voice grows: "Where there is knowledge, it will pass away.” We discover the voice coming from Paul’s prayer closet interceding on our behalf, “I pray that you . . . may have power . . . to know this love that surpasses knowledge.” Perhaps we can learn from Paul--one of the greatest minds in history--that knowledge can never drive us to love.

Ambition fuels modern life. Whether the goal is wealth, fame or accomplishment, western society applauds ambition and points to example after example of those who have leveraged their desires into lives of success.

Does ambition have any place in the Kingdom of God? I think the surprising answer is yes. The perhaps not-so-surprising answer is that God treasures humility, kindness and service in the lives of his children. Kingdom ambition points us ever-lower and waits for the Father to raise us up in due time.

“What were you arguing about on the road?” Jesus asked his friends, but they did not answer him because they had been arguing over who was the greatest. Jesus sat down and spoke plainly: “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.” (Mark 9:33-35) Welcome again to the up side-down Kingdom, where children are the example, and the meager coins of a widow outweigh the billions of philanthropists.

In the Kingdom order, quiet lives sing beautiful songs, heard in heaven above the sounds of Gangnam style or empire states of mind. A brilliant and ambitious man named Saul submerged himself among the Gentile dogs of a Pagan empire and embraced the disdain of the religious and intellectual elites. His counsel was counted as foolishness among the philosophers of his day. Sometimes his words were amazingly simple: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your own hands.” (1 Thessalonians 4:11) We do not need a Bible commentary or to study Greek to understand these words.

And yet, the Kingdom rewards ambition: forceful men take it by force. Can you imagine turning your ambitions toward the service of others? Defining success by the change of a single life or the simple practice of listening quietly to the confused or hurting? Kingdom ambition urges us toward the praise of heaven and an effectiveness that crumbles empires from within without a shot being fired, or even an election being won.

This week the world will hold it’s breath to see who will lead the wealthiest nation in history. But in our everyday life the truth has never changed: a leader leads by serving.

Following Jesus includes making disciples. The path of discipleship includes the joy of helping others to become disciples. Some have mistaken the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20) as a call to evangelism while others have mistaken the Great Commission as a call to personal discipleship without regard to the welfare of others.

Of course, we should share the good news of Jesus’ substitutionary death--he paid the price for us to be reconciled to the Father. But the good news also includes the promise that anyone who turns to Jesus should be taught how to obey everything he commanded. How many of us have considered evangelism in the light of raising up obedient followers of Jesus?

It’s no surprise that our example is the Lord Himself. His proclamation that the Kingdom of God was breaking into the here and now also included “Come, follow me.” When we encounter these words it’s easy to think, “Of course, everyone should follow Jesus,” but Jesus of Nazareth was an unknown teacher from the hill country of Galilee. In effect he told others, “I can demonstrate the good life.” His message was more than information, it included the invitation to imitate his way of life. The Apostle Paul understood the implications of the Great Commission when he boldly asserted to the Corinthians, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 11:1) How many of us are comfortable in making the same claim: “Imitate my life, and in so doing you will learn how to become like Jesus.”

Pointing to Jesus is not enough. Our personal growth as followers of Jesus is not complete until we lead the way for others. It’s part of Jesus’ plan for us. Demanding obedience to God is not enough. Real discipling is about paving the way for others to approach the Father. Jesus not only insisted upon obedience, he showed his disciples how it was done. May God give us the grace to do the same.