tagged 
Christmas, Incarnation, christlikeness
Christmas, Incarnation, christlikeness Entries in christlikeness (10)
Monday's Meditation: A Magical Baby?
Monday, December 20, 2010 at 10:23AM 
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head,
The stars in the sky look down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay.
Who knew simple Christmas carols could raise important questions for anyone who wants to follow Jesus? The song celebrates the Incarnation, literally, the enfleshment of Jesus, when God Himself became man. It is a powerful song because any parent remembers well the beauty and mystery of their child asleep in the crib. We can relate to sleeping babies. But then . . .
The cattle are lowing, the poor Baby wakes
The little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes . . .
Right here--at the words, “no crying he makes” the song begins to depart from our personal experience. Most mothers would begin to worry about a baby who never cries. A baby who never cries? What kind of baby was this Jesus? Did he ever cry? Was he a real baby--who did all the things babies do--or was he a miracle baby?
This baby Jesus, God Incarnate: how did he receive the Magi when they came to worship? Did the infant invite them in and gesture for them to sit? Did the new-born child king say, “Please, come in. You must be exhausted from your journey.” Did he thank them for their thoughtful gifts? Or was he simply a baby, for the most part unaware of what was going on? Did his mother tell him years later of those strange visitors?
Fast-forward just a few years and imagine Jesus as a boy learning the family business at his father’s side: how did the sinless Son of God (perhaps, say, six years old) drive a nail into a board for the very first time? Did he hold the hammer correctly? Did he drive the nail straight and true? Or, like all children, did he gain his skill through experience? When the Perfect Human Being first held a saw and cut a piece of wood, did he cut the board correctly? And if he did not, what does this say of his divinity?
Behind such imaginations hide questions for anyone who would become like their Master. These questions comprise meditations worthy of the Christmas week:
- Was Jesus a real human being?
- If Jesus is our example in both behavior and ministry, how did he become the man he was?
- If Jesus modeled ministry for us by healing the sick, casting out demons and raising the dead, by what power did he do these things?
Questions like theses can help us celebrate the wonder of the Incarnation. More important, they can help us discover the life of a disciple and who we are as followers of Jesus.
Our True Destination
Thursday, November 11, 2010 at 07:11PM And then there’s the story about the guy who believed in predestination: after he fell down a flight of steps, he picked himself up and said, “I’m glad that’s over with.”
Monday’s Meditation discussed a common, everyday word: that. Today we invite spiritual whiplash by talking about predestination. There . . . did you feel it? Heaviness just entered the discussion. Nostrils flared as people began to dig in their heels because they already have strong opinions about this subject. The other sound you heard was the slamming of the door as right-minded people said, “Predestination? I’m outa here--who needs another argumentative blog post?” They are probably right to run. I’d leave, too, except I live here.
Is there a way to talk about about God’s sovereignty without small minds taking big positions? Probably not. Calvinism has become shorthand for predestination. Greg Boyd has been labeled a heretic for suggesting Open Theism. Most of the folks who hold to Arminianism are surprised to learn there was actually a guy named Arminius.
So join me in the deep end of the pool. If I start to sink, perhaps your comments will save me in the end. I’ve been thinking lately.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. (Romans 8: 28 - 29)
When you cut through the ten-dollar theological words in these verses, I think Paul means simply that God takes care of his children and wants every one of them to look just like Jesus.
This passage reveals that our destiny is to become conformed to the image of His Son. Pre-destination means someone in charge has determined where we’re going before we get there. The Father has determined that the place to be is Christlikeness--that’s home! What if predestination isn’t about a place, but instead about a condition?
Instead we’ve fixated on who’s in and who’s out. We’ve become protocol experts checking credentials at the door of heaven. The Apostle Paul considered Christlikeness to be the outcome of the gospel:
- “My dear children, for whom I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you” (Galatians 4: 19). When Paul mentions the pains of childbirth in association with their growth, he’s telling the Galatians that spiritual formation is just as important as spiritual birth. After the new birth, he says, something is supposed to be formed in each one of us. That something is the image of Jesus.
- “He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me." (Colossians 1: 28-29). When he mentions admonishing and teaching, Paul is describing a process. Being conformed to the likeness of Jesus is the result of applied supernatural wisdom. It not reserved for super saints, this passage says clearly, “everyone.” In verse 29 Paul sets his efforts and God’s energy side-by-side, describing a partnership between God’s empowerment and our strenuous response. Our spiritual DNA can come only from the new birth, our transformation comes our response and his continued grace.
Sometimes the scripture asks us to believe good news, news so good it stretches our faith and reaches way beyond our understanding. Part of that news is our destination--a destination pre-determined by the very heart of the Father: it’s not a place, but the possibility of becoming conformed to the image of Christ. The Father believes it about each on of us, do we believe it about ourselves?
The Father wants a big family. The First Son was born into the family. Since then sons and daughters have been adopted, and apparently he wants all the children to have a family resemblance.
The Impossible Mentor?
Thursday, February 4, 2010 at 06:01PM I knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. Sitting in my office was a young man who had been cheated out of $200 by someone else in the church. Both men attended our church, and one guy really did owe the other $200. But the guilty party wasn’t in the office, the other guy was--and he was full of anger and frustration because of his loss. That’s when I made my hasty suggestion:
“You could forgive him his debt,” I suggested. “Jesus told us to do just that.” Big mistake.
“Well I’m not Jesus!” he nearly shouted back at me. End of discussion, end of ministry time, end of opportunity to take the yoke Jesus offers. It was my mistake. Not for suggesting a perfectly Biblical remedy to his anger and frustration, but for expressing the solution in such a way that he would consider it impossible.
It’s impossible to be like Jesus, isn’t it? Jesus was perfect. He led a sinless life. He was God-come-to-earth and his life sets the bar impossibly high for any of us.
I believe that the central problem in nurturing followers of Jesus in North America is our view of Jesus as the Impossible Mentor. It’s a paradox: nearly everyone is willing to acknowledge Jesus as a worthy role model, but almost no one seriously believes it is possible to live up to his example. Our esteem for Jesus’ life of obedience to the Father and our desire to be “just like Jesus” does battle with the deep-seated notion that it is impossible to be like him. Who would choose a mentor who is impossible to imitate?
Some passages in the Scripture inspire fill us with confidence. Some light the fires of hope in our hearts. Other passages seem too idealistic, too fantastic to find their way into even our dreams, much less our daily lives: “For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.” (Romans 8: 29) Is this possible? Does God really look at each one of us and see a destiny in which we look like Jesus?
Whatever our theological foundations regarding this passage we should all recognize that it is about God’s intention for each of one us--to become “conformed to the likeness of his Son.” Simply put, God desires to have more children like Jesus. Jesus is God’s only begotten Son, but we become his sons and daughters by adoption. The destiny of those adopted into the family of God is that we, too, should bear the family likeness. That is: we will look just like Jesus.
In a conversation with a dozen young Christians this week, I asked them if they felt it was possible to live a life without sin for even one day. No takers. So I rephrased the question and asked if it is possible to go for an hour without sinning. Only one of them thought it was possible to stay within the will of God for a single hour.
These questions are not academic. They go to the heart of our life “in Christ.” If our intuition tells us that following His example is impossible, for one day or even an hour, how can we have the confidence to pursue his vision for us? The bottom line is that God has a greater vision for what is possible in our lives than we do. Perhaps the reason the Apostle Paul instructs us later in Romans to “be transformed by the renewing of your minds” is so we can see the possibilities of a life lived in harmony with Jesus. A practical, day-to-day moment-by-moment harmony capable of generating the rest and peace he promises.
Let me encourage you this week to ponder the foundations of your commitment to be a disciple of Jesus. Here are a few suggestions for meditation and prayer:
• Is it possible to learn from him?
• If Jesus is my mentor, have I committed myself to failure with no possibility of success?
• What kind of Master would invite me to be his apprentice if he thought there was no possibility to follow in his footsteps?
The answers spoken from our heart will determine whether discipleship is possible.
The Fellowship of Low Expectations
Thursday, January 21, 2010 at 01:33PM About this time last year I posted a reflection on the ambivalence many Christians feel about following Jesus. You can read The Impossible Mentor in full, but here is the heart of that article:
I believe that the central problem in nurturing followers of Jesus in North America is our view of Jesus as the Impossible Mentor. It’s a paradox: nearly everyone is willing to acknowledge Jesus as a worthy role model, but almost no one seriously believes it is possible to live up to his example. Our esteem for Jesus’ life of obedience to the Father and our desire to be “just like Jesus” does battle with the deep-seated notion that it is impossible to be like him. Who would choose a mentor who is impossible to imitate?
In the last twelve months I have seen first-hand how many believers feel the urge to go deeper with Jesus while struggling with the conviction that it is impossible to measure up to him. What has surprised me is how many church leaders also hold this view. How does a leader build and shape the church if he or she believes that the goal is impossible?
Across the spectrum of Christian worship, our churches are filled with individuals who do not believe Christlikeness is possible. Even more striking is the number of church leaders who have largely abandoned the task of making disciples. Local churches place any number of expectations on their pastors: preaching, visiting the sick, counseling, and supervising the ministries of the church are all standard aspects of the job description. Reproducing the character and power of Jesus in the lives of individual members is rarely on the list.
The challenge is reflected in more than job descriptions. The preparation and training for pastoral ministry in North America seldom includes courses focused upon the process of making disciples. For example, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary’s core curriculum for a Masters of Divinity degree does not include a single course on disciple-making. The rise of graduate-level “Christian Leadership degrees” in recent years is a more promising trend, but these degrees are explicitly marketed against the expectations of traditional pastoral models. The language of Fuller Theological Seminary’s website is revealing:
“Students who are pursuing the MA in Christian Leadership degree are typically looking to be well grounded but not necessarily interested in ordained ministry or those working in churches that do not require a seminary education for ordination.”
The issue is more than education. It goes to the priorities we place on “ministry.” In some church circles, there is a common saying from the pulpit: “There are only two questions God will ask when you get to heaven: ‘Do you know my Son?’ and, ‘How many other people did you bring with you?’” These questions reflect the priorities of many evangelical pastors. Evangelical churches have placed leading others to the conversion experience as the highest calling of the church.
Liturgical churches have frequently placed corporate social action as the highest calling of the church. Their witness is to the community at large through the corporate actions of the congregation. While taking the lead in ministry to the poor or in matters of social justice, the formation of disciples capable of reflecting the character and power of Jesus is left behind. The emphasis is on the prophetic voice without producing prophetic individuals.
In both evangelical and liturgical circles, the growth and maturity of believers is secondary at best. The consequences are plain: we have produced congregations of people willing to work for Jesus, but unable to relate to him.
What would happen if pastors and leaders began to operate from the conviction that it is possible to reproduce the character and power of Jesus in his followers? Jesus apparently held that idea:
Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves. I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. (John 14: 11 - 13)
The Apostle Paul apparently labored under the idea that his mission was to reproduce Christ in his converts: “I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you..." (Gal. 4:19) In fact, even more telling, Paul offered himself as and example: “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” (I Corinthians 11:1) The fact that neither the Galatian or Corinthian people had yet measured up to the standard of Jesus didn’t stop Paul from pointing to the center of the target. The best way to hit any part of the target is to aim for the center.
What are church leaders are aiming for these days?
The Staggering Possibilities of Imitating Jesus
Thursday, October 22, 2009 at 11:31PM God has a greater vision for what is possible in our lives than we do. Many of us would be thrilled to attain promise Jesus offered: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11: 28 – 30) It’s true: there is a practical, day-to-day, moment-by-moment harmony capable of generating the rest and peace he promises. I suspect that for most of us, this would be enough. But what if this wonderful invitation represented the starting point of our life in Christ? What if Jesus has something more in mind for us?
Beyond rest and peace are the staggering possibilities of living a life imitating Jesus in word, thought, attitude and deed. I believe Jesus invites us to learn from him because he intends to reproduce himself in us. He does not invite us to learn about him; he presents to each of the incredible offer to become conformed to his image.
In Jesus, God came to earth to accomplish something greater than the forgiveness of sin. Jesus also came to earth in order demonstrate the possibilities of a life lived in harmony with the Father. Jesus was fully God and fully man; to understand his humanity is to encounter the hope that Christlikeness is possible in this life. In his earthly ministry Jesus used everyday situations to shape his disciples: paying taxes, feeding the hungry, fishing, encountering a fever at home, settling disputes between people filled with pride and competition. Jesus knew that commonplace situations contained eternal possibilities: a drink of water could change a town, coins could become cities, and palm leaves could threaten an empire. Moreover, Jesus expected to leave behind a group of followers who were capable of continuing his work in every respect. His solutions transformed the most unlikely cast of characters into world-changers who operated with his priorities, lived out his example, and operated with the same authority and power as their Master.
Perhaps for some this vision is too large. If we are overwhelmed by the call to imitate the Lord Himself, then perhaps we could find a more accessible role model? We might be tempted to choose another mentor: a pastor, a friend, a celebrity, or an “older brother.” For those tempted in this direction the letter of James has a remarkable suggestion: consider Elijah. “The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective. Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.” (James 5: 16b – 18) Who is greater, Jesus, or Elijah? Of course, we know the answer. Shouldn’t Elijah’s life of faith and practice be more attainable than that of Jesus?
“Elijah was a man just like us.” How many of us believe that? Elijah’s life story involves a supernatural prayer life capable of changing weather patterns. Elijah was a man like us? We can immediately see that in some ways this is true: he was subject to uncertainty, perhaps even bouts with depression. These similarities resonate with us, but Elijah also miraculously multiplied food, called down fire from heaven, and raised the dead. If James seriously attempted to lower the bar of discipleship by suggesting a mere human as a mentor, in our day we are still left standing and staring at the height of the bar. Elijah’s life certainly has the authority of scripture, but how are we to understand, interpret or adapt his life to our experience? What would be the response of our family or friends if we maintained that we were just like Elijah? Yet we know we are called to follow Jesus, not Elijah.
The difficulty in asking the question, “what would Jesus do” comes not in imagining a possible answer—most of us can figure out what Jesus would do. The difficulty lies in seeing ourselves as capable of imitating his actions. Over the years I have taught several introductory-level classes in New Testament at a nearby university. When we finish reading the gospels I always ask my students if they think Jesus is a worthy role model. In every class nearly every hand goes up in the affirmative. Then I ask my follow-up question: “How many of you think it’s possible to live up to his example?” Not a single hand goes up. No one moves. Who in their right mind would claim they could measure up to Jesus? It is one thing to esteem Jesus as a holy man, or even recognize his claim to be God-come-to-earth, but who would take on the responsibility to be like him? We affirm him as a role model and simultaneously deny any real possibility of becoming like him.
We must choose whether becoming like Jesus is possible in this life, or even desirable. If we decide that becoming like Jesus is not possible, could it be that we are avoiding facing the more difficult question of whether it is desirable?