I've never thought of myself as a very verbal person. I was a math major in college. Except for when I'm with family and my closest friends, I'm normally pretty content to just sit and listen in group settings. In school I was always happier taking tests where I could spit back facts than writing essays where I had to put things into my own words.
But now, it seems, my whole life revolves around words. I am constantly searching for the right words. I'm leading profession of faith class discussions and trying to carefully explain what we believe about mysteries such as the Trinity and the incarnation. I'm visiting with church members and neighbors and trying to pick the right thing to say to prove that I'm listening and understanding them. I'm carefully crafting emails in the hopes that I can get my message across without being misinterpreted. I'm agonizing over my sermon, desperately trying to explain the gospel in a way that's engaging and faithful to my Scripture passage. Even writing this blog can sometimes feel like communication exercise.
Overall, I think the newly more verbal Brian is developing pretty well. I'm getting more comfortable with all the speaking and writing, and I think I'm getting better at explaining things in terms that other people can understand. However, by the time Monday rolls around each week, I'm pretty worn out. Thankfully, I get a full day of recovery and relative silence before putting a few thoughts together for this blog. So if I you find me to be a little quiet or slow to respond, don't worry. I'm just trying to find the right words.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 31, 2016
Monday, October 24, 2016
#11 I've Got Too Much Time on My Hands
I'm not in school anymore! I realize school has been going on for a couple months now, but I think about that everyone once in a while. One of the things that's been weirdest for me to adjust to is the amount of time I have. Not that I have a ton of free time. I'm definitely staying busy. But for the first time in my life, I really don't know when my time here will end. Up until now, I've always had a pretty clear expiration date: this many years of school, so many weeks at an internship, etc. But here in Kanawha, I'm not a fixed deadline. There's no end in sight. I suppose I probably won't be here forever, but I have no plans of leaving. I'm in this for the long haul, and that's a good feeling. I'm happy to be here with time on my hands.
But having time on my hands takes some getting used to. I'm used to having to get things done quickly. I'm used to deadlines and due dates. As a pastor, I definitely have to do things in a punctual manner. Each week I have to get a sermon ready for Sunday. There are regular visits I need to make. Council meetings come every month, and there are responsibilites I need to take care of between meetings. But a lot of my work is less time-constrained. I'm hoping to help church members grow in faith and to equip them for works of service. I'm trying to build relationships in my community. I'm working to teach local youth a little more about what it means to be Christian. These things take time. Sometimes I find myself wondering if I'm making any progress or worried that I've missed an opportunity, but that's really not a helpful perspective. I do need to be faithful about building relationships and witnessing and serving, but there's no need to rush. I've got time on my hands. What's more, God is the one who brings church growth and spiritual growth and who leads people to Christ. Outcomes aren't something I need to worry about; diligence and Christlikeness are what I need. Now if only I could totally get that through my head.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 17, 2016
#10 Job and Jesus
I spent the past five Sundays preaching on the book of Job. Job is a fascinating book and a difficult book. Job's experience is much more relatable than it appears at first glance. I don't know too many people that have lost all their children (plus all their possessions) at one time. But we are familiar with the experience of suffering, of struggling with pain and hardship that we don't understand. We know the pain of wondering why we face such troubles and how God could allow this to happen. And, as one of my wise seminary friends told me, suffering on any of level can feel like it fills us entirely.
Our friend Job doesn't just accept his suffering. He cries out with brutal honesty to express his pain and protest that he doesn't deserve all this. Job feels he has no choice but to conclude that God is behind all of his pain, and so he begs and pleads and finally demands that God answer him. And God does answer. But God's response is frustratingly beautiful and beautifully frustrating. God never explains why Job has gone through all that he has. The thrust of what God says is, to paraphrase a couple of my seminary profs, I am God and you are not. My world and the way I run it are too big and complicated for you to understand. But I understand it all. You can trust me. And you must trust me.
This response seems to be enough for Job. Job is both honored and humbled that God would talk to him. Job knows that God has been listening. Job is satisfied to know that God hasn't rejected him. And then God says that Job is His servant and proves it by listening to Job's prayers and by restoring Job's possessions and giving him new children. The book of Job leaves us with this hope: God listens to and doesn't reject His servants, and God can bring restoration after even the worst suffering.
But for us, this response can be hard to take. Sure, Job was restored, but it can be hard for us to believe that things will work out for us, that God is really trustworthy. Here's where we need Jesus. All of Scripture needs to be read with a focus on Jesus, but that seems especially true with the book of Job. God in effect tells Job to trust Him because He's God. But Jesus shows us so much more clearly who God is. Jesus shows us that God loves us so much that God Himself would join our suffering in Jesus Christ. Christ understands our suffering because He is as human as we are. And Jesus suffered for us to bring about our restoration. Jesus died and rose to break the power of sin and death and suffering. We can be confident that God listens to our prayers because His beloved Son, Jesus, brings our prayers before God. When we suffer, Christ is present with us through His Holy Spirit. And Jesus promises us that He is coming back to fully do away with all of our brokenness and pain. Jesus shows us that God is trustworthy because Jesus so clearly shows us that God is love. Jesus shows us so clearly that God uses His power and wisdom on our behalf. Through Jesus we have the hope of restoration, even though we die.
When it comes to the suffering and brokenness and pain that fill our world, we cannot fully answer the why question, as much as we would like to. God doesn't give us easy answers. But instead of why, we can talk about who Jesus is and what He has done. This is the hope and comfort that Job points us to. This is the hope and comfort that we can and must share. Our pain and suffering are real and difficult. God cares about these things. He shows us by giving us the book of Job, and He shows this most of all by giving us Jesus.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Our friend Job doesn't just accept his suffering. He cries out with brutal honesty to express his pain and protest that he doesn't deserve all this. Job feels he has no choice but to conclude that God is behind all of his pain, and so he begs and pleads and finally demands that God answer him. And God does answer. But God's response is frustratingly beautiful and beautifully frustrating. God never explains why Job has gone through all that he has. The thrust of what God says is, to paraphrase a couple of my seminary profs, I am God and you are not. My world and the way I run it are too big and complicated for you to understand. But I understand it all. You can trust me. And you must trust me.
This response seems to be enough for Job. Job is both honored and humbled that God would talk to him. Job knows that God has been listening. Job is satisfied to know that God hasn't rejected him. And then God says that Job is His servant and proves it by listening to Job's prayers and by restoring Job's possessions and giving him new children. The book of Job leaves us with this hope: God listens to and doesn't reject His servants, and God can bring restoration after even the worst suffering.
But for us, this response can be hard to take. Sure, Job was restored, but it can be hard for us to believe that things will work out for us, that God is really trustworthy. Here's where we need Jesus. All of Scripture needs to be read with a focus on Jesus, but that seems especially true with the book of Job. God in effect tells Job to trust Him because He's God. But Jesus shows us so much more clearly who God is. Jesus shows us that God loves us so much that God Himself would join our suffering in Jesus Christ. Christ understands our suffering because He is as human as we are. And Jesus suffered for us to bring about our restoration. Jesus died and rose to break the power of sin and death and suffering. We can be confident that God listens to our prayers because His beloved Son, Jesus, brings our prayers before God. When we suffer, Christ is present with us through His Holy Spirit. And Jesus promises us that He is coming back to fully do away with all of our brokenness and pain. Jesus shows us that God is trustworthy because Jesus so clearly shows us that God is love. Jesus shows us so clearly that God uses His power and wisdom on our behalf. Through Jesus we have the hope of restoration, even though we die.
When it comes to the suffering and brokenness and pain that fill our world, we cannot fully answer the why question, as much as we would like to. God doesn't give us easy answers. But instead of why, we can talk about who Jesus is and what He has done. This is the hope and comfort that Job points us to. This is the hope and comfort that we can and must share. Our pain and suffering are real and difficult. God cares about these things. He shows us by giving us the book of Job, and He shows this most of all by giving us Jesus.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 10, 2016
#9 Two Things
1. Politics are everywhere in U.S. news with the election less than a month away. Every once in a while I run across an article or clip that references a pastor endorsing a candidate. I'm not sure I can fully express how much that troubles and angers me. I think that pastors, like all citizens, should have their own carefully considered political opinions. But I believe that a pastor publicly endorsing a candidate is wrong, even if the statement of approval comes outside the pulpit. As Christians we represent Jesus Christ, and as pastors we formally represent His church. Publicly supporting a specific candidate as a pastor ties Jesus Christ and His church to that candidate and that party in the minds of a lot of people. That's wrong. Christ is not a Republican or a Democrat or a member of any other party. Pastors endorsing candidates can make others think that all Christians belong to a specific party or agree on a single candidate. That can easily push away those who hold opposite opinions on political issues, but the church transcends political parties and even national boundaries. Furthermore, as pastors we hold authority, whether we like it or not. Supporting a specific candidate comes across as an attempt to use that authority to influence another person's vote. I believe that is a gross misuse of pastoral authority. We can't find a passage in Scripture that tells us which party to vote for. There are no Bible verses that lay out a specific policy on health care or energy (though God does teach us moral principles that should shape our thinking when evaluating different options). This is an area where we can and should use our Christian freedom to decide for ourselves how we think we can best serve Christ and His kingdom with our vote. Christians, pleae, follow the Holy Spirit's leading through your conscience and make up your opinion, instead of taking someone else's opinion, especially a church leader's. I really don't think serving in a church makes someone more qualified to speak on political issues.
2. [Note: I'm not sure everything in this paragraph is going to be phrased as well as possible. If I say something misleading or hurtful, please correct me and help me to use my words more wisely in the future.] There has been a ton of discussion about the 2005 recording of some of Mr. Trump's comments about women released on Friday. Let me be clear: Mr. Trump's comments describe adultery and sexual assault. These comments and the actions they describe are inexcusable, deplorable, and sinful. This is a moral, not a political, issue, and I don't think there can be too many men speaking out against this kind of behavior, behavior that horribly takes advantage of the privilege and power that men, particularly white men, have in our society. But Mr. Trump's comments aren't the only ones that upset me. I've heard too many men saying that these comments are an outrage because they demean someone's daughter or sister or wife. (And I must admit, I sometimes think along these lines, too.) When we say things like that, we seem to be basing the identity and value of a woman based on whichever man she is most closely connected to. That's wrong. These women have identity and value as their own people. Women and men, girls and boys, females and males and persons who identify with both genders or neither gender, persons whose chromosomes are XX or XY or any other possible variation--all people are created in God's image. As human beings, we all have equal value and dignity. We should be upset by these comments because they objectify another human being. It doesn't matter if we have a personal connection with another person. It doesn't matter if we feel more similar to them or more dissimilar to someone else. We should be outraged when any one of us is treated as less than human, treated like an object for someone else's gratification. We cannot be silent when our fellow humans are degraded like this. What's more, if we have power and privilege, we must use them to combat injustice and to work for justice. If we have power and privilege, we must empty ourselves and be first to serve and honor and respect others. Let's treat others as we'd like them to treat us.
Grace and peace,
BMH
2. [Note: I'm not sure everything in this paragraph is going to be phrased as well as possible. If I say something misleading or hurtful, please correct me and help me to use my words more wisely in the future.] There has been a ton of discussion about the 2005 recording of some of Mr. Trump's comments about women released on Friday. Let me be clear: Mr. Trump's comments describe adultery and sexual assault. These comments and the actions they describe are inexcusable, deplorable, and sinful. This is a moral, not a political, issue, and I don't think there can be too many men speaking out against this kind of behavior, behavior that horribly takes advantage of the privilege and power that men, particularly white men, have in our society. But Mr. Trump's comments aren't the only ones that upset me. I've heard too many men saying that these comments are an outrage because they demean someone's daughter or sister or wife. (And I must admit, I sometimes think along these lines, too.) When we say things like that, we seem to be basing the identity and value of a woman based on whichever man she is most closely connected to. That's wrong. These women have identity and value as their own people. Women and men, girls and boys, females and males and persons who identify with both genders or neither gender, persons whose chromosomes are XX or XY or any other possible variation--all people are created in God's image. As human beings, we all have equal value and dignity. We should be upset by these comments because they objectify another human being. It doesn't matter if we have a personal connection with another person. It doesn't matter if we feel more similar to them or more dissimilar to someone else. We should be outraged when any one of us is treated as less than human, treated like an object for someone else's gratification. We cannot be silent when our fellow humans are degraded like this. What's more, if we have power and privilege, we must use them to combat injustice and to work for justice. If we have power and privilege, we must empty ourselves and be first to serve and honor and respect others. Let's treat others as we'd like them to treat us.
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, October 3, 2016
#8 Friday Night Lights
(Author's note: If you were expecting a thoughtful and possibly even thought-provoking post after last week, this post might not be for you.)
I don't understand high school football. Let me clarify. I understand how the game works. I know the object of the game, the rules, the different positions, all of that. I'd say I understand the joy of competition in general and team sports in particular. I'm pretty sure I understand school spirit and hometown pride and all of that. But I guess I just don't get why high school football is such a big deal. Why does football seem to be so much more important than other sports? And why is it that I generally enjoy pro football and absolutely love college football but just don't feel all that excited about high school football?
Maybe part of the explanation lies in my background. My high school didn't have a football team. It never has, and almost certainly never will. (For that matter, my college has never had a football team either.) The first time I went to a high school football game was this fall. I've now been to two varsity games and one JV game. So I didn't grow up with high school football. Lots of schools around me had it, but I felt pretty indifferent about what other schools did. High school football wasn't part of my culture.
Beyond that, I was a cross country runner all through high school and college. Cross country is much quieter and simpler and more individual than football is. And the thing about cross country runners--at least most of the ones I know--is that we kind of view ourselves as athletic outsiders. For the most part, nobody outside of the cross country program makes a big deal out of cross country. So we runners sort of developed a chip on our shoulder and prided ourselves on being tough enough to compete without all the attention. Could I be bitter about or jealous of the attention that football gets? Maybe.
Maybe I'm just not the right age for high school football. I'm too old to be a high school student, so I don't have the joy of watching my peers. I'm too young to be a parent, so I don't have the joy of watching my kids. Plus, I'm in a new area. I know a few of the kids at West Hancock High School, but maybe I just haven't built up enough affection for the school yet. I don't know, though. I felt pretty engaged when I caught a volleyball match a couple weeks ago.
Maybe I just find high school football to be kind of...well, boring. (Gasp!) I realize this is nearly sacrilegious, but hear me out. The games can take forever, and there's a lot of standing around between plays. The clock seems to always be stopping, the ball often gets lost in a mass of bodies, and it can be really hard to tell from midfield if somebody scored before the officials signal. Plus, West Hancock is really good this year. The couple games I've seen haven't been good games at all. We were up 45-0 at halftime last Friday night. I spent most of the game talking to a five-year-old girl from my church. Honestly, I had more fun with that than watching the game. And even when I watch higher levels of football, I'm often doing something else at the same time. I realize how uncool this makes me, but I spent most of Saturday's Wisconsin-Michigan game reading The Banner between plays.
Finally, maybe high school football just makes me nervous. I've read a decent number of articles on football and concussions. Each time a player is a little slow to get up, I get concerned. I struggle to cheer for a big hit. I just hope the kids make it out okay. When I think about having my own kids, I have serious reservations about letting my own child play tackle football. However, I don't seem to worry quite as much when I watch higher level football; maybe that's becuase college and pro players are older. I don't know. For now, I guess I just don't totally understand high school football. I'll just have to keep trying. Maybe the lightbulb will go on soon. If not, I could always find some cross country.
Grace and peace,
Brian
I don't understand high school football. Let me clarify. I understand how the game works. I know the object of the game, the rules, the different positions, all of that. I'd say I understand the joy of competition in general and team sports in particular. I'm pretty sure I understand school spirit and hometown pride and all of that. But I guess I just don't get why high school football is such a big deal. Why does football seem to be so much more important than other sports? And why is it that I generally enjoy pro football and absolutely love college football but just don't feel all that excited about high school football?
Maybe part of the explanation lies in my background. My high school didn't have a football team. It never has, and almost certainly never will. (For that matter, my college has never had a football team either.) The first time I went to a high school football game was this fall. I've now been to two varsity games and one JV game. So I didn't grow up with high school football. Lots of schools around me had it, but I felt pretty indifferent about what other schools did. High school football wasn't part of my culture.
Beyond that, I was a cross country runner all through high school and college. Cross country is much quieter and simpler and more individual than football is. And the thing about cross country runners--at least most of the ones I know--is that we kind of view ourselves as athletic outsiders. For the most part, nobody outside of the cross country program makes a big deal out of cross country. So we runners sort of developed a chip on our shoulder and prided ourselves on being tough enough to compete without all the attention. Could I be bitter about or jealous of the attention that football gets? Maybe.
Maybe I'm just not the right age for high school football. I'm too old to be a high school student, so I don't have the joy of watching my peers. I'm too young to be a parent, so I don't have the joy of watching my kids. Plus, I'm in a new area. I know a few of the kids at West Hancock High School, but maybe I just haven't built up enough affection for the school yet. I don't know, though. I felt pretty engaged when I caught a volleyball match a couple weeks ago.
Maybe I just find high school football to be kind of...well, boring. (Gasp!) I realize this is nearly sacrilegious, but hear me out. The games can take forever, and there's a lot of standing around between plays. The clock seems to always be stopping, the ball often gets lost in a mass of bodies, and it can be really hard to tell from midfield if somebody scored before the officials signal. Plus, West Hancock is really good this year. The couple games I've seen haven't been good games at all. We were up 45-0 at halftime last Friday night. I spent most of the game talking to a five-year-old girl from my church. Honestly, I had more fun with that than watching the game. And even when I watch higher levels of football, I'm often doing something else at the same time. I realize how uncool this makes me, but I spent most of Saturday's Wisconsin-Michigan game reading The Banner between plays.
Finally, maybe high school football just makes me nervous. I've read a decent number of articles on football and concussions. Each time a player is a little slow to get up, I get concerned. I struggle to cheer for a big hit. I just hope the kids make it out okay. When I think about having my own kids, I have serious reservations about letting my own child play tackle football. However, I don't seem to worry quite as much when I watch higher level football; maybe that's becuase college and pro players are older. I don't know. For now, I guess I just don't totally understand high school football. I'll just have to keep trying. Maybe the lightbulb will go on soon. If not, I could always find some cross country.
Grace and peace,
Brian
Monday, September 26, 2016
#7 America Is NOT a "Christian Nation"
I'd like to make a proposal. I think we should all agree to remove the phrase "Christian nation" from our vocabulary. First of all, not everyone in the United States identifies as a Christian. It's insulting to them to call the U.S. a Christian nation. I'd certainly like everyone everywhere to belong to Jesus Christ, but I don't think using somewhat insulting terms like "Christian nation" is going to help that cause.
Second, the whole idea that the U.S. was founded on Christian principles is, to put it charitably, much less historically supported than we might like to believe. We spent a whole day of church history in seminary poking holes in this claim. For one thing, the constitution mentions religion exactly once, and there it says that religion cannot be used to stop someone from running for office. (We had about nine other points, but this isn't my main topic in this post. If you'd like to hear more, let me know in the comments, and I'll dig out my church history notes.)
Third--and I'd like to think most importantly--I think our whole concept of a "Christian nation" just doesn't really make sense. If you want to say Christianity equals the church, well, the church, the people of God, isn't national or even international; the church is transnational. If you want to change terms slightly and say Christianity equals the kingdom of God, well, Jesus says that His kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36); sure, the kingdom exists here and now, but it's about more than just the earth. Paul says that God's purpose is "to bring to unity all things in heaven and on earth under Christ" (Ephesians 1:9-10). God's people extend far beyond the U.S. American laws aren't the same as God's laws. And besides, nations are rightly designed to act for their own self-interests. But our Lord Christ emptied Himself to serve others, and He calls His people to do the same. Christianity doesn't put up borders, but nations really must have some kind of border, even if it's really easy to cross. Christian and nation don't fully go together.
In fact, I'd say that the new and shocking inclusiveness of the people of God in the new age of Christ is one of the more prominent themes of the New Testament. Jesus teaches Samaritans (John 4) and praises the faith of a Canaanite woman (Matthew 15) and a Roman centurion (Luke 7). Christ says that He has sheep from outside of the sheep pen of Israel (John 10), tells His church to make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28), and prophesies that His church will be His witnesses to the ends of the earth (Acts 1). The book of Acts makes a big deal of how God's Spirit shows that Samaritans (Acts 8) and Gentiles (Acts 10, 11, 15) are now part of God's chosen people. Paul's writings are clear that salvation is for all people (Romans 1:16), that Jews and non-Jews are part of the one body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12:13), and that the distinctions between nations are unimportant in Christ (Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11). In fact, Paul says that creating one new humanity of both Jews and Gentiles was central to God's purposes in Christ (Ephesians 2). Finally, John envisions the people of God as "a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language" (Revelation 7:9). I'm afraid that if we focus too much on the U.S. as a "Christian nation" we might start to think that Christians in other nations, especially those without a Christian majority, don't really count or aren't really the same as us. We might become blinded by our own U.S.-centric biases and start believing an "American gospel" instead of the gospel.
Additionally, I don't want us to get too worried about the current state or apparent future of the U.S. For one thing, the Bible is clear that, no matter what, Jesus Christ is King of all (for example, Colossians 1, Ephesians 1, Philippians 2, 1 Corinthians 15). No matter what our government looks like or how secure we feel, Jesus is in control. And even if the U.S. should become 0% Christian or sink into the sea, God's mission would continue. The people of God is the church, not any nation. God's mission and the mission of His people doesn't stand or fall based on how Christian the U.S. is. For another thing, the U.S. (or any other nation) isn't our true home. Paul says our citizenship is heaven (Philippians 3:20). Both Peter and the author of Hebrews say that we are foreigners here on earth (1 Peter 1:17, 2:12; Hebrews 11:13). Now, until Christ comes again, we live here on earth, and we might even have the privileges of citizenship in some earthly nation. We should use our rights wisely and carry out our responsibilities dutifully. We should submit to our governments (Romans 13, 1 Peter 2), pray for those in authority over us (1 Timothy 2), and pay taxes as required (Matthew 22). But when we give our governments their due, we must remember that God deserves everything we have, including our votes. Let's think about how we can honor God with our votes. And no matter the outcome, let's remember that Christ still reigns.
Finally, we need to realize, as the early Christians and their contemporaries in the Roman empire did, that saying "Jesus is Lord" means there can be no other. Caesar isn't lord. The president isn't lord. America isn't lord. Those of us who live in the heart of America, the modern-day empire of Babylon or Rome, need to be especially careful that we don't compromise for the sake of comfort. We need to watch out so that America doesn't become an idol for us, that we don't equate worshiping God with serving America or even hold up the U.S. as an alternative to God. Jesus Christ is Lord. He calls us to deny ourselves and our self-interests and follow Him, joining His body, the church, which transcends all national borders. Let's remember that our ultimate allegiance is to God: if ever there is conflict, we must obey God rather than human beings (Acts 5:29). So let's drop the whole "Christian nation" thing and get our priorities straight. We belong to God first and thus also to His people. Our true kingdom will one day put an end to all others (Daniel 2, Revelation 19-20), and then, when God is all in all, we will have our true and never-ending Christian nation, our Christian empire, our Christian world (Revelation 21).
Grace and peace,
BMH
Second, the whole idea that the U.S. was founded on Christian principles is, to put it charitably, much less historically supported than we might like to believe. We spent a whole day of church history in seminary poking holes in this claim. For one thing, the constitution mentions religion exactly once, and there it says that religion cannot be used to stop someone from running for office. (We had about nine other points, but this isn't my main topic in this post. If you'd like to hear more, let me know in the comments, and I'll dig out my church history notes.)
Third--and I'd like to think most importantly--I think our whole concept of a "Christian nation" just doesn't really make sense. If you want to say Christianity equals the church, well, the church, the people of God, isn't national or even international; the church is transnational. If you want to change terms slightly and say Christianity equals the kingdom of God, well, Jesus says that His kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36); sure, the kingdom exists here and now, but it's about more than just the earth. Paul says that God's purpose is "to bring to unity all things in heaven and on earth under Christ" (Ephesians 1:9-10). God's people extend far beyond the U.S. American laws aren't the same as God's laws. And besides, nations are rightly designed to act for their own self-interests. But our Lord Christ emptied Himself to serve others, and He calls His people to do the same. Christianity doesn't put up borders, but nations really must have some kind of border, even if it's really easy to cross. Christian and nation don't fully go together.
In fact, I'd say that the new and shocking inclusiveness of the people of God in the new age of Christ is one of the more prominent themes of the New Testament. Jesus teaches Samaritans (John 4) and praises the faith of a Canaanite woman (Matthew 15) and a Roman centurion (Luke 7). Christ says that He has sheep from outside of the sheep pen of Israel (John 10), tells His church to make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28), and prophesies that His church will be His witnesses to the ends of the earth (Acts 1). The book of Acts makes a big deal of how God's Spirit shows that Samaritans (Acts 8) and Gentiles (Acts 10, 11, 15) are now part of God's chosen people. Paul's writings are clear that salvation is for all people (Romans 1:16), that Jews and non-Jews are part of the one body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12:13), and that the distinctions between nations are unimportant in Christ (Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11). In fact, Paul says that creating one new humanity of both Jews and Gentiles was central to God's purposes in Christ (Ephesians 2). Finally, John envisions the people of God as "a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language" (Revelation 7:9). I'm afraid that if we focus too much on the U.S. as a "Christian nation" we might start to think that Christians in other nations, especially those without a Christian majority, don't really count or aren't really the same as us. We might become blinded by our own U.S.-centric biases and start believing an "American gospel" instead of the gospel.
Additionally, I don't want us to get too worried about the current state or apparent future of the U.S. For one thing, the Bible is clear that, no matter what, Jesus Christ is King of all (for example, Colossians 1, Ephesians 1, Philippians 2, 1 Corinthians 15). No matter what our government looks like or how secure we feel, Jesus is in control. And even if the U.S. should become 0% Christian or sink into the sea, God's mission would continue. The people of God is the church, not any nation. God's mission and the mission of His people doesn't stand or fall based on how Christian the U.S. is. For another thing, the U.S. (or any other nation) isn't our true home. Paul says our citizenship is heaven (Philippians 3:20). Both Peter and the author of Hebrews say that we are foreigners here on earth (1 Peter 1:17, 2:12; Hebrews 11:13). Now, until Christ comes again, we live here on earth, and we might even have the privileges of citizenship in some earthly nation. We should use our rights wisely and carry out our responsibilities dutifully. We should submit to our governments (Romans 13, 1 Peter 2), pray for those in authority over us (1 Timothy 2), and pay taxes as required (Matthew 22). But when we give our governments their due, we must remember that God deserves everything we have, including our votes. Let's think about how we can honor God with our votes. And no matter the outcome, let's remember that Christ still reigns.
Finally, we need to realize, as the early Christians and their contemporaries in the Roman empire did, that saying "Jesus is Lord" means there can be no other. Caesar isn't lord. The president isn't lord. America isn't lord. Those of us who live in the heart of America, the modern-day empire of Babylon or Rome, need to be especially careful that we don't compromise for the sake of comfort. We need to watch out so that America doesn't become an idol for us, that we don't equate worshiping God with serving America or even hold up the U.S. as an alternative to God. Jesus Christ is Lord. He calls us to deny ourselves and our self-interests and follow Him, joining His body, the church, which transcends all national borders. Let's remember that our ultimate allegiance is to God: if ever there is conflict, we must obey God rather than human beings (Acts 5:29). So let's drop the whole "Christian nation" thing and get our priorities straight. We belong to God first and thus also to His people. Our true kingdom will one day put an end to all others (Daniel 2, Revelation 19-20), and then, when God is all in all, we will have our true and never-ending Christian nation, our Christian empire, our Christian world (Revelation 21).
Grace and peace,
BMH
Monday, September 19, 2016
#6 The End Is Not the End
Yesterday afternoon I was ordained as a minister of the Word in the Christian Reformed Church in North America, which means I have now officially become the pastor of Kanawha Christian Reformed Church. The day was a lot of fun. I preached in the morning; then the congregation celebrated with a potluck. During the afternoon service I pledged, with the Spirit's help, to serve Jesus Christ and His church. Pastor Frank, my classis-appointed mentor, led a time of prayer, and elders and pastors laid their hands on me. Tess and I greeted visitors and family and friends after church, and we continued celebrating over dessert. The whole experience was pretty surreal. I've finally reached the goal of my formal education. We even took celebratory pictures.
But as fun as yesterday was, it was really more of a beginning than an ending. What I've been looking forward to all this time isn't so much the end of my time of preparation but the beginning of my career of ministry. In some ways I'm just continuing the work that I've already been doing here, but things have changed. Now when I bring a message from God's Word, my speaking is technically preaching and no longer exhorting. Now I am authorized to administer the sacraments of baptism and communion. Now I have been entrusted with the privilege of raising my hands and giving God's blessing to God's people.
As I enter the pastorate, I think that this is quite the calling. To be honest, I feel terribly unworthy. But it really doesn't matter what I think. This is where I have felt God leading me, and though His church He has told me that I am ready to take up this work. The time is now. When I made profession of faith, my pastor wrote me a note that included a few verses from 2 Timothy 1. Verse 6 always stood out to me: "For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands." That charge has never felt more real and weighty to me than right now. Thankfully, I don't decide if I am qualified, nor am I alone in this ministry. The very next verse of 2 Timothy says, "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline." Like Timothy, I am a young man at the beginning of the adventurous journey of ministry, and like Timothy, I have the Spirit with me to lead me, comfort me, challenge me, and defend me. Praise God for that!
Grace and peace,
BMH
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| Tess and me in front of the church |
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| My sister Molly, my parents, and my grandma came for the celebration. |
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| Our friends Kathryn, Eric, and Lindsay also came out for the ordination. |
But as fun as yesterday was, it was really more of a beginning than an ending. What I've been looking forward to all this time isn't so much the end of my time of preparation but the beginning of my career of ministry. In some ways I'm just continuing the work that I've already been doing here, but things have changed. Now when I bring a message from God's Word, my speaking is technically preaching and no longer exhorting. Now I am authorized to administer the sacraments of baptism and communion. Now I have been entrusted with the privilege of raising my hands and giving God's blessing to God's people.
As I enter the pastorate, I think that this is quite the calling. To be honest, I feel terribly unworthy. But it really doesn't matter what I think. This is where I have felt God leading me, and though His church He has told me that I am ready to take up this work. The time is now. When I made profession of faith, my pastor wrote me a note that included a few verses from 2 Timothy 1. Verse 6 always stood out to me: "For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands." That charge has never felt more real and weighty to me than right now. Thankfully, I don't decide if I am qualified, nor am I alone in this ministry. The very next verse of 2 Timothy says, "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline." Like Timothy, I am a young man at the beginning of the adventurous journey of ministry, and like Timothy, I have the Spirit with me to lead me, comfort me, challenge me, and defend me. Praise God for that!
Grace and peace,
BMH
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