From iMonk in March, 2009. Replayed by Chaplain Mike.

David Wilkerson (Cross and the Switchblade, Times Square Church) is predicting a world changing disaster, and advises that you dust off those cans of Spam you still have from Y2k. It’s getting serious coverage by the unhinged conservative media.

I wrote about Evangelical anxiety about the end of the world in the “Evangelical Anxieties” series in February of 07. Not only have I not changed my mind, I’m more bothered by this than ever.

If eschatology were a multiple choice question, with answers like this:

a) be Christ centered
b) proclaim the Gospel
c) do missions and evangelism
d) look forward to the new heaven and the new earth
e) be idiots

…guess what a large chunk of Evangelicalism would choose?

Evangelicals really can’t get enough of this stuff. Wilkerson- and a thousand other end times prophets like Kim CLement- have predicted similar events before. The “end of the world” section of the bookstore is only the front end of the “end of the world warehouse” that stores all the books that have been predicting the end of the world as long as evangelical authors could find a pen.

In no other area of Christian belief are Evangelicals more irresponsible and bizarrely repetitive. If doing the same thing, over and over and over again with no result, qualifies as a form of mental illness, then we can fill up an entire chain of hospitals. We’re talking about people who will take their eschatology and turn it into a VIDEO GAME here.

The Bible is obviously too simple for Evangelicals at this point. The instincts of some Christians tell them that it never can just mean what it says. So when Jesus says “no one knows, not even the Son,” or “don’t believe people who say they know,” it actually means “Oh yeah, we can know ALL about future events. Just get the right teacher with a big chart and you’re in there.”

Maybe it’s the fact that weird eschatology is the closest thing Christianity has to the kind of material that shows up on the Sci-Fi channel late at night. Bad acting. Cheap special effects. Teenagers caught having sex. Maybe rapture anxiety just plays like a bad B-movie, so Evangelicals get it.

The history of Christian apocalyticism is a story in and of itself. I recommend Jason Boyett’s Pocket Guide To The Apocalypse. Seriously. Get it. Good book with lots of humor and even more information.

I am never more envious of Catholics/Orthodox than on the subjects of evolution and eschatology. Catholics simply don’t lose their minds over this sort of thing. The catechism is calm. If the pope has anything to say about the end of the world, it must be edited out. You’d never hear Benedict going on like Tim Lahaye. (Too bad Art Bell isn’t on Christian radio.)

I’m sure Catholics and Orthodox have their hysterical eschatology committees like every other religion, and I’m sure Fr. So and So is out there in the road with a placard proclaiming the end, but you just get the impression that Catholics are in the “it will all work out” camp, and they aren’t going to get in the bunker with Ned Flanders. Have a beer. Go to a Barbeque. Don’t start screaming. No one likes a religion with people screaming.

Evangelicals don’t seem to blink when they realize that the business of various apocalyptic scenarios is making millions of dollars for people convinced it’s all about to be over. They don’t mind that the people making these prophecies either abuse, don’t use, or no longer need to use a Bible. No, from Thief in the Night to 89 Reasons Christ Will Return in 1989, we just keep on keepin’ on.

My evangelical students read Left Behind with far more interest than they read scripture. If everyone who read Left Behind read ONE other decent Christian book, a Great Awakening would arrive. My students also assume that all Christians buy into this approach to the future. I haven’t met one yet, in 17 years, that has a pastor who even sent clue one that we might not be on the verge of the great tribulation because the stock market is zonked. Judgment house. Hell house. Rapture house. We really need an amusement park to get the whole show together.

Does it occur to most Evangelicals that their brothers and sisters around the world sort of LIVE in the Apocalypse? If we have a Columbine or a Katrina, John Hagee is on TV the next night with a chart so big you can see it behind him. Meanwhile, in Sudan, it’s all just another day at the office.

Americans are afraid of the end. They are afraid of losing their life here. They don’t want II Thessalonians 1 to happen. They want to keep running up their credit cards and driving the leased SUV.

Kingdom? New world? End of old world? Resurrection? Christ all in all?

Missional hope? Reach the nations? Gospel to every people group? Bible in every language?

Don’t be bothered by earthquakes, rumors of wars, bank collapses, elections, etc?

Nah. Put in the next Left Behind movie. The one where Kirk Cameron sings “I Wish We’d All Been Ready” to Carpathia.

[Comment ideas: 1) Catholics and Orthodox are allowed one comment to make fun of evangelicals. 2) What's your best story about Evangelicals and Apocalypse fever?]

The Middle East is front page news again this week, and agreement and peace are nowhere in sight. Watch the following video and get a whole new angle on the story.

Is this man and the movement he represents the ones you want influencing the Prime Minister of Israel and U.S. policy in the Middle East? It’s happening.

Pastor Hagee in Jerusalem 3/8/10 (Part II) from Max J Blumenthal on Vimeo.

Here’s a Jewish report and opinion on the “new breed of Christian Zionists” who are not content to wait on God’s timing to see the future come to pass, but who feel that they are divinely called to move the hands of the prophetic clock: http://zeek.forward.com/articles/116518/.

Culture war Christianity was scary enough, and IMHO, deeply harmful to the true cause of Christ in the world. What shall we say about this radical combination of prosperity gospel and dispensationalism being applied to foreign policy?

I say it’s ludicrous theology, and dangerous intervention by careless zealots.

From Chaplain Mike.

OK, so Mark Driscoll dissed “Avatar” calling it, “the most demonic, satanic movie I’ve ever seen.”

And Christianity Today didn’t like it, especially when he pointed to their review as an example of contemporary evangelicalism’s inability to exercise discernment.

This post is not about that.

For the record, I have not seen Avatar…yet. Though I plan to.

And that’s actually what got me thinking.

My big spiritual awakening happened when I was 17 years old. Within a couple of years, I was moving into ministry and had a conversation about going to the movies with my pastor one day. He was strictly old school. “I would never feel comfortable walking into a movie theater,” he told me. I don’t think he even thought much about the content of any particular movie; for him, the theater was simply a part of the “world” that ministers (and serious Christians) avoided.

The Bible college I attended had a clear “no movies” policy. Around that time, I recall the controversy when the Billy Graham Association released “The Hiding Place” in theaters. Schools like ours had to hold special meetings and consult with their constituents before granting a special exemption for students to go out and see it.

I know Christians for whom “Chariots of Fire” was the first film they ever saw in a cinema. Many of them were looking over their shoulders the whole time.

When Blockbuster and other stores began the video rental explosion, I remember hearing a young Joe Stowell, then president of Moody Bible Institute, tell a room full of pastors, “I don’t see how any Christian can walk around a video store and not feel extremely uncomfortable.”

(BTW, when I started following Christ seriously, television was also an issue for some believers. Our Bible college had one TV, in a public area. My future wife’s family did not have TV. When we got married, we didn’t have a TV for many years. Frankly, I’ve only had satellite for 5-6 years now, and part of that time we’ve had it turned it off. My kids laugh at us today for the pitiful 20″ screen on which we watch our shows.)

I don’t say any of this proudly or to make the point that the current evangelical concept of “engaging culture” is wrongheaded.

It’s just another one of those times when I am prompted to pause along the road of my journey, look back, and marvel at how things have changed with regard to Christian attitudes.

Hey, we live in a day when the nation’s leading evangelical Christian magazine criticizes a pastor for negatively evaluating the spiritual content of a Hollywood movie!

Does that make anyone else shake their head?

I am not now nor have I ever been a separatist in spirit. Even during the years when our exposure to things like movies and TV and, to a lesser extent, popular music was limited, I never thought it was absolutely necessary for us to approach things that way, nor did I suggest that others must live by a set of rules with regard to participation in pop culture. Our life was focused on other priorities, and such entertainments just weren’t as important. But I have always loved movies and TV and popular music, and have thought it silly for Christians to quarantine themselves from them as from the plague.

Separatism is certainly not the dominant evangelical view today. In the video that has gained so much attention, it was interesting to hear Mark Driscoll defend himself against the charge of being a “fundamentalist” with regard to involvement in culture. No “cutting-edge” Christian today wants that label. When some of you read what I’ve written here, you will probably think I must be some ancient geezer who grew up in the days when we hauled water from the stream and went to town in the horse and buggy.

Not at all. I’m a typical American baby boomer, who ate dinner in front of the TV. I went to the movies from the time I was a baby. Rock ‘n roll and I grew up together. For much of my life, I’ve enjoyed pop culture as much as anyone I know.

However, I remember when even my parents, who were absolutely not fundamentalist Christians, wouldn’t let me see “Bonnie and Clyde” because of its subversive tone and explicit violence. I recall them coming home early from certain movies because of the immorality and amorality that was depicted.

It’s not just evangelicalism that has become more “liberal” with regard to feeding on the offerings of popular culture and entertainment. The world has changed. And followers of Christ have changed with it.

So, for me, the fact that Mark Driscoll would have a negative review of “Avatar” isn’t the interesting thing here. It’s the new world of conversation the Christian community in America now inhabits.

You might be surprised to find a positive, affirming article about evangelicals in the secular press, but Nicholas D. Kristoff of the New York Times wrote an op-ed this weekend called “Learning from the Sin of Sodom” that praises evangelicals such as World Vision for the excellent work they are doing to meet real needs around the world.

In an addendum to the piece, Kristoff summarized his main point by saying this:

There’s a tendency for liberals to devote lots of ink to decrying conservative Christians, because of their positions on social issues. I disagree strongly with typical evangelical positions on gay marriage, abortion, abstinence only education — but I also think that liberals don’t appreciate the impact of the arrival of evangelicals into humanitarian space or give sufficient credit for that change.

Thank God for rightful recognition given. Perhaps this is a positive sign that the evangelical movement has turned a corner, leaving further behind failed culture war strategies and focusing more on serving the needy and working for justice. At any rate, others are watching and are impressed by the quality of missional work being done by Christians.

In the conclusion to his op-ed, Kristoff challenges secularists and religious alike, encouraging us to abandon some of our ingrained distrust of the other in order to work more in partnership for the common good.

If secular liberals can give up some of their snootiness, and if evangelicals can retire some of their sanctimony, then we all might succeed together in making greater progress against common enemies of humanity, like illiteracy, human trafficking and maternal mortality.

A wise person once wrote the following lyrics in a song called Suffer: “All that you suffer is all that you are.” Now, while this statement may not be entirely true – as we are also defined by experiences of happiness, joy and peace – I’m sure we can all agree that going through some kind of suffering is an inevitability for all of us as humans, and that what we suffer does in fact shape us profoundly. Physically, we feel pain, as our body is designed to protect itself and provide us with signals of potential or actual danger. Through trial and error, we become aware of the limits of our existence. We learn that touching things that are hot or sharp can hurt us, so that we’ll hopefully be less apt to make the same mistake again in the future. At other times, our bodies feel pain to let us know that we’re sick or that something within us demands our attention – like a warning system to let us know something’s wrong or that we should consider modifying our routine behaviour. We also feel emotional pain, which is often related to social interaction. At times, we hurt because we are intentionally or inadvertently excluded or insulted by someone else’s actions or words. Other times, we suffer because we are temporarily or indefinitely separated from a person or people who are important to us. Whatever the case, our experience of physical and emotional pain is universal, and has a direct impact on our personal identities, how we view and relate to others, and how we process and deal with spiritual things. Ultimately, what we suffer personally and collectively influences our understanding of God.

C. S. Lewis, in his book “The Problem of Pain”, wrote this:

If God were good, He would wish to make His creatures perfectly happy, and if God were almighty He would be able to do what He wished. But the creatures are not happy. Therefore God lacks either goodness, or power, or both. This is the problem of pain, in its simplest form.

Obviously this wasn’t his conclusion on the matter. In this statement, he was merely pointing out that the human experience of pain coupled with a belief in an all-powerful, loving God is problematic. You’ve probably asked this question yourself: why do bad things happen to good people? This question of suffering – the “why” of human pain – is in many ways mysterious and unanswerable – beyond our understanding.

Last year, I was fortunate enough to attend a tour that featured one of my favourite speakers and authors Rob Bell. For those of you who don’t know, Rob Bell is the founder of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, the author of the book Velvet Elvis, and the person behind the NOOMA video series. Needless to say, I was really excited to meet him. But what’s more, what he shared at the presentation itself was very helpful and insightful to me. At that particular time in my life, I was struggling a lot with the problem of pain, and this is what he said:

When we try to resolve things too quickly…or offer hollow, superficial explanations…it’s not honest and it’s not right and it’s not real. It’s not how life is. I’ve heard people trying to be helpful in the midst of a tragedy or accident or death by saying, ‘That’s just how God planned it,’ while I’m thinking, ‘The god who planned THAT is not a god I want anything to do with.’ Others with far more wisdom and experience than me have tackled the ‘why’ questions of suffering. [But] I’m interested in another question…not ‘Why this?’ but ‘What now?’

So – instead of focusing on and becoming discouraged by the elusive answer to the question of WHY, the encouragement was to shift one’s perspective to consider WHAT to do with that suffering. Instead of desperately trying to make the pieces fit, accepting that sometimes there is no WHY. Sometimes life just happens and you deal with it. But how? HOW should one respond in the midst of suffering, especially during those times when it’s not we ourselves who are in pain, but those around us who are in distress? HOW should we react when there’s trouble in the world that doesn’t affect us directly, or when someone we know is going through a particularly difficult time? To help answer this question, let’s consider together the experience of Job.

From chapters one and two of Job, we learn about the great suffering he endured. At one time he had seven sons, three daughters, seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred donkeys and a large number of servants (Job 1:2-3); but he lost them all. Raiders from the surrounding region attacked and killed Job’s servants, carrying away his oxen and donkeys (1:14-15). Fire fell from the sky and consumed Job’s sheep and the shepherds (1:16). Another raiding party later attacked and killed the rest of Job’s hired hands and stole all the camels (1:17). A violent wind struck and collapsed the house where all of Job’s children were gathered, leaving none of them alive (1:18-19). And if this wasn’t enough, after all this emotional suffering, he faced extreme physical pain as his entire body was then found to be covered with agonizing sores (2:7).

Personally, I can hardly fathom what it would have been like to be in a similar situation. Some of us have gone through tremendous suffering, but relatively few – if any – of us have faced the degree or scope of pain faced by Job.

Job’s initial reaction to his suffering is found in verse 21 of chapter one:

Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.

I say initial reaction, because as Job continues to process his situation, he confronts the problem of pain head-on, voicing his trouble and confusion out loud. Consider some of these phrases from chapter seven:

My body is clothed with worms and scabs, my skin is broken and festering. “My days… come to an end without hope… Therefore I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul… When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint, even then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions, so that I prefer strangling and death, rather than this body of mine. I despise my life; I would not live forever. Let me alone; my days have no meaning… If I have sinned, what have I done to you… Why have you made me your target? Have I become a burden to you? Why do you not pardon my offenses and forgive my sins?

I’m sure his words probably don’t sit very well with you. Either because you yourself are going through a comparatively difficult time, and there didn’t seem to be very much hope in Job’s words. Or because you didn’t think Job should be so honest with his suffering and had an urge to share words of your own to help Job understand his situation. Words like: “Everything happens for a reason,” “God has a plan,” “it could be worse,” or “you shouldn’t complain.”

When we see and hear that someone is suffering, we are often tempted to either:

(1) Fix our eyes on something else, thereby ignoring the existence of a problem; or

(2) We try to fix the problem so that suffering is alleviated.

Clearly, the latter approach is preferable – that is, trying to help someone in need. But HOW we do so is crucial. Because sometimes we think we’re helping someone, when in fact we are causing even more damage. Sometimes we incorrectly assume that we have the answers to some of life’s greatest questions and feel compelled to share this with others. Like when Job’s friends gave him what they thought was wise advice. So – let’s consider together a few examples of how those closest to Job dealt with the problem of pain, and why the Lord himself later said that they did not speak what was right (42:7). Hopefully then, when we encounter suffering in the world and in the lives of those around us, we can learn from their mistakes, and then in my opinion, do the one thing they did right.

After so much loss, the few people that remained in Job’s life gathered around him to give him counsel regarding his unfortunate situation. In particular, there were five main people who offered their insight into WHY he was suffering and WHAT he should do about it.

First, there was Job’s wife, who offered this advice to her husband: “Give up.” In her own words from chapter 2, verse 9: “Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!” Job himself responded: “You speak foolishly”(2:10). Life is made up of good moments and bad moments, and though we don’t always know why the bad happens, is the solution give up on life itself? When trying to cope with severe emotional or physical pain, as the one who is suffering, it might be tempting for us to conclude that death is a preferable option to agony and affliction. This is essentially what Job claimed in chapter 7. But if you were Job in that moment, would you really want someone to say to you: “Yeah, you’re right…what are you waiting around here for? Die already!” This is not helpful in the least.

Second, we have Job’s friend Eliphaz, who’s advice could be paraphrased as: “Bad things won’t happen to good people like you…at least not for very long.” Perhaps in an ideal world, but as you and I both know, this is wishful thinking at best. The fact that someone is good or godly doesn’t preclude them from suffering. It’s clear from the opening chapter of Job that he was, “blameless and upright…feared God and shunned evil”(1:1), and yet, his suffering was awful. Bad things happen both to supposedly good and allegedly bad people alike. There is no direct, fixed correspondence between the two. Some people suffer for years regardless of their obedience to God. Perhaps eschatologically-speaking, the faithful will experience ultimate peace and relief from their pain in heaven. But again, how is that helpful advice in the moment of one’s anguish or grief that may persist indefinitely? In that case, you might as well offer the advice given by Job’s wife, which we already heard was foolish.

Third, we need to consider the instruction given by Job’s other friend Bildad. His assessment was essentially this: “You’ve done wrong and have brought this on yourself.” According to him, Job must have sinned and is therefore responsible for his own suffering, and shouldn’t complain. Once more, the fault with this line of reasoning is that there is not always exact correspondence between one’s actions and destiny. Granted, this may be the case sometimes, as we often do face negative consequences for mistakes that we make. But is saying “I told you so” or pointing out the obvious really that constructive? Is making someone feel guilty for their own pain helpful, especially if there’s also a chance or likelihood that they aren’t to blame at all? I don’t think so.

Fourth, there’s Job’s friend Zophar, who essentially says: “If you don’t sin and have more faith, everything will be alright.” This view links suffering with sin and faith with triumphing over suffering; basically, combining the advice of Eliphaz and Bildad. That being the case, it remains problematic and unhelpful. Case in point: if you have ever been in a situation where you were really struggling with your faith – no matter how well meaning a person is trying to be – you know that the suggestion to have “more faith” is anything but encouraging. The implication of Zophar’s position is that more faith equals less pain, which just isn’t true.

Fifth, and last to offer Job advice is a young man named Elihu, who eagerly and passionately shared this so-called wisdom: “Suffering is always for a reason, and its purpose is to bring you back to God.” The message here, as proposed by Elihu, is that pain in life is meant to teach us a lesson. That all human suffering is intended to draw us back into fellowship with God. That agony, anguish, sorrow and grief are restorative and have a specific purpose. But would you honestly – with integrity – say something like this to someone going through tremendous affliction? Did God “plan” each and every natural disaster? Did the Lord have a “purpose” for the holocausts at Auschwitz, Treblinka and the other death camps of World War II? We must be very careful if ever we feel compelled to link meaning with personal circumstances or world events. Who are we to infer or deduce the WHY of human suffering? After Elihu spoke, the first words we hear the Lord say before questioning Job are these: “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge”(38:2)? As I said a couple weeks ago when we were considering Jeremiah 27 and 28, if we’re not absolutely sure something is from God, sometimes it’s better to keep our mouths shut. And even if we are 100 percent convinced that we’re speaking the truth, we might be wrong. How, then, is what we say going to help someone in need? Sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all, and let our actions do the speaking.

To be fair, Job’s friends didn’t get it all wrong. Consider what it says at the end of chapter 2:

When Job’s three friends.. heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.

Sitting on the ground in silence. Coming down to the level of the one in pain. Being present. Not offering platitudes. Not presenting unsolicited advice. Willing oneself to leave the comfort of one’s own health, security and preconceived ideas to join the other in suffering. During times of grief and mourning, our Jewish brothers and sisters have a practice called “sitting shiva,” where those closest relatives to the deceased gather together in a home for seven days and sit on chairs that are low to the ground or on the floor itself. Mourners tear their garments, aren’t supposed to shave or bathe, and don’t even open the Bible…unless it’s a passage that specifically deals with lament, like the book of Lamentations or Job. And though this time of sitting on the ground together may not necessarily be altogether silent, mere presence can be more beneficial than a thousand words. I’m convinced that we can learn a lot from this, that there was much wisdom in what Job’s friends did first, and that we can and should do the same (or something similar).

Conclusion

When others around us are suffering, let’s do what we can to be there for them, to stand beside or sit with those in pain. As best as you can, be Incarnational – there, “in the flesh.” One of the greatest comforts of the Christian life is knowing that God himself can relate to our struggles in the person of Jesus Christ. He too lost close friends and family, experiencing tremendous emotional pain. And he was no stranger to physical suffering either. But what’s more, he suffers still, and deeply. Jesus, though raised from the dead, was raised wounded (see John 20), and to this day bears the heartache and hurt of humankind – continuing to suffer with those in pain. Accordingly, as a follower of Jesus, one is similarly called to “bear each other’s burdens”(Galatians 6:2). To be willing to suffer alongside those in need. Like Job’s friends did for seven days before they spoke. Now – plainly, this isn’t to say that you shouldn’t speak to someone who’s going through a difficult trial. By all means, pay a visit, pick up your phone, write a message. You don’t want silence to come across as avoidance or indifference. But think before you speak. Choose your words wisely. And if you don’t know what to say, that may be just as well. “Let your words be few”(Ecclesiastes 5:2), “be quick to listen and slow to speak”(Galatians 1:19). Do however much is at your disposal to be present with those who are suffering. And though the problem of pain may remain to us a mystery, we can all be assured and provide assurance by our presence with others that none of us face the challenges of life alone.

As always your thoughts and comments are welcome.

Back in March of 2009 I put up Part 1 of this post and talked a bit about corporate confession and absolution and how its regular practice helped anchor me in the church. There is a second part to this story and it deals with private confession and absolution.

This will probably come as a shock to many of our readers, but the Lutherans retained the use of private confession, (as in “going to confession” in front of a priest or Pastor) and many faithful pastors still regularly hear the confessions of their flock and pronounce Christ’s forgiveness in absolution. Article XI of the Augsburg Confession says:

Article XI: Of Confession.

1] Of Confession they teach that Private Absolution ought to be retained in the churches, although in confession 2] an enumeration of all sins is not necessary. For it is impossible according to the Psalm: Who can understand his errors? Ps. 19:10.

In Article XI of the Apology of the Augsburg Confession it says:

It is well known that we have so elucidated and extolled [that we have preached, written, and taught in a, manner so Christian, correct, and pure] the benefit of absolution and the power of the keys that many distressed consciences have derived consolation from our doctrine; after they heard that it is the command of God, nay, rather the very voice of the Gospel, that we should believe the absolution, and regard it as certain that the remission of sins is freely granted us for Christ’s sake; and that we should believe that by this faith we are truly reconciled to God [as though we heard a voice from heaven]. This belief has encouraged many godly minds,…”

The enumeration of sins is done away with (the idea that only the sins you confess are forgiven) and likewise the assigning of works of penance is also excluded. The Lutherans have preserved a very Gospel centered version, stripped of any vestige of works righteousness.

Individual confession and absolution has almost entirely disappeared in modern protestantism and is unheard of in Evangelicalism. But is the individual confession of sins really so shocking?

Type the word “confession” into any search engine and see how many sites come up where people can confess all the bad things they have done, often without any reference to Christ or even God. The confession of sins seems to be almost a basic need for anyone with a conscience.

Our forefathers in the faith wisely understood this and sought to preserve a venue where the Gospel could be applied to individual sinners and their sin. During the Reformation, and for some time after, no one could partake of the Lord’s Supper unless they went to Confession first and were absolved. Things aren’t near so strict today, but most Lutheran Pastors will offer private confession if asked.

Many years ago, long after I had become a Christian, and years after I had joined the Lutheran Church, I suffered some major life setbacks and loss that I did not see coming and was ill prepared for. I never thought I would find myself in that position, and my reaction was, putting it delicately, not constructive. I fought to hold on to my faith and my reason, but just ended up watching them slip away.

What was a young man who found himself single,and without family close by, living near the beach in Southern California to do? To embrace the types of dissipation common to young men in my situation and geographical area was the answer I settled on. I call these the ‘Dark Years.’ (Doesn’t scripture say something about what your hand finds to do, do it with all your might?) Things went from really bad to a lot worse

I was attending church sporadically, and my pastor was teaching on the subject of individual Confession. I was hesitant to go. Another friend who is a pastor urged me to go, and when I protested that my sin was really bad, he rebuked me for having such pride in my sin, thinking that it was too great to be forgiven, and thinking that my Pastor hadn’t heard equal or worse many times before.

I salved my tortured conscience for awhile with the idea that I didn’t need any man to hear my sins, but could confess to God. That didn’t work too well. For one thing my conscience was on fire, and my feeble pleas for forgiveness did nothing to quench those flames. Furthermore, I had lost the ability to ‘control’ my sins, so even when I begged for forgiveness, it seemed that my prayers were bouncing off a stone wall. Many times I would pray for forgiveness and get up off my knees to immediately rush headlong into my favorite sins. The whole mess was taking a toll.

Finally, I gave in and showed up at the Church on a Saturday during the hours my Pastor had scheduled to hear confession.

He was all business. He had me turn to page 310 in Lutheran Worship (also known as the Blue Hymnal) and we followed the service for individual confession. He didn’t seem shocked at my sins. I regurgitated all my sins and hatefulness and at the end of it all he placed his hands on my head and said “As a called and ordained servant of the Word, I forgive you all of your sins in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace, your sins are forgiven.” For the first time in a long while a flicker of hope appeared.

I would like to be able to say that all my sins immediately went away and that Confession worked like magic. But that is not what happened. Actually, things got worse before they got better. I went to Confession two or three times a month, sometimes more. I tried to attend church more regularly, and since we have communion every week, partook of the Lord’s Supper every time I went. I would try to attend Evening Prayer on Wednesday nights.

At one point I had missed both worship and confession for a couple weeks. Pastor asked me where I had been and I told him I had not been in any kind of condition to be in church. He looked me right in the eye and said “If you can drive safely, come. You need to be here.” That was some of the most godly advice I have ever received. (I took him up on those words a couple of times. You should have seen the look on the faces of the ushers and those in the back pews. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was beyond caring what anyone thought.)

As the oil of forgiveness and hope soaked into my wounds, some of my sins fell away quickly, others faded away over weeks and months, and some still remain. The weekly rhythm of confession and absolution, the application of the Gospel to me, in my sin, slowly started to rebuild my faith and hope. To see and hear the Gospel incarnated every week in my Pastor literally gave me my life back. If I had not been able to hear God’s forgiveness for me week after week, month after month, I would have given up attending worship and taking the Lord’s Supper a long time ago. The discouragement and defeat would have been too much to bear.

Those days were a long time ago. Looking back, it almost seems like another life. Man, those were some hard days. Thank God for the gift of His Word and faithful pastors who can bring it.

I know many people will scoff at the idea of confessing your sins to a pastor, and even more people vehemently reject the idea that a man can speak forgiveness to people in the stead and by the command of Jesus. Hey, even many Lutherans reject these teachings. (Shows they don’t even know their own doctrine and heritage.) That’s unfortunate.

Romans 2:4 says that its God’s kindness that leads us to repentance, and I think the Church and the world could use some strongly focused Gospel these days. There are lots of people that are aching to hear God’s forgiveness in Christ. Confession is a great tool for pastoral ministry and a magnificent gift from Christ to His bride. My advice to anyone who finds themselves trapped in a sin is to find a pastor that will hear your confession. It saved my life and faith, it can do the same for yours.

It amazes me that the apostles immediately know- they KNOW- that Christianity has to be applied in ways they had never thought before. Perhaps the story in Acts 10 is a window to how the Holy Spirit stirs us up to get off of the roof and down into a Roman’s house.

The Apostles apply the Gospel broadly. There must be a different kind of economics. There must be a different kind of inclusion around the table and in relationships. There must be prayer, breaking bread, teaching doctrine, but there is more. You cannot leave out the issues of hunger, inclusion, assistance, mercy ministries, economics or even political theology. While you can point out the kinds of issues that weren’t addressed, it’s remarkable what kind of issues are addressed…and how they are addressed.

“Christian culture” is always a counter-culture, not a consumer culture, an entertainment culture or a political lobby. “The Church” is a gathering of people loyal to Jesus who believe certain things, but it is a movement of people who apply the gospel to those issues in their midst that demonstrate the meaning of the Kingdom of God.

There is a lot of scholarly controversy over whether the “communal” passages in Acts reflect the teaching of Jesus or whether the Apostles are going beyond what Jesus taught and forcing an application of the gospel that Jesus did not require.

This “either/or” may be missing the point. If a particular form of the application of Jesus’ teaching turns out to be a failure on some level- such as the communal experiment of Acts 2 and 4- that does not mean that it was wrong to conclude “the gospel must be applied and practiced, as well as believed.” If this is a failed “program,” it is not a wrong application of the Gospel. Jesus leads us to issues of ownership, the lordship of mammon and the meaning of being one body. We may not see the Acts “commune” passages repeated throughout the New Testament, but we do see the relevant questions and hear the relevant applications in most of the New Testament letters.

For example, Paul may not have approached the issue of slavery the way a Justice Mission might today pursue the same issue. But does anyone argue that Paul believes Christ does not transform, undermine and put in motion the eventual end of slavery?

This is why I can commend many Christians for their attempts to put the Kingdom of God into practice even if I disagree deeply with their particular application. I have mixed agreement with many liberals and conservatives, but I commend them for seeing that Jesus has a meaning for politics, relationships, community and culture.

This is the kind of “cultural relevance” that many churches and younger leaders are seeking that is ignored or misunderstood by critics. Caricatures always criticize younger leaders and missional churches for seeking to be “cool,” but what is to be said to those who are asking these questions:

What are the pressing human needs in the community that surround us, and how can we help meet those needs?

What are we doing to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the widow and visit the prisoner?

What are the ethics of building when the maintenance of facilities takes away substantial support for mercy ministries?

What priority can we give to supporting denominational programs as we seek to use our resources to become a missional congregation?

How do we connect the gospel as proclamation to the application of the gospel?

How can we make our gospel application meaningful to those who see any application of the gospel as capitulation to liberalism?

How can we keep our application of the gospel from manipulation by those with agendas that are not Christ-centered?

How can the teaching of the faith and the application of the faith in proper balance so that the faith confessed and taught is never displaced by works of any kind?

One other thing is sadly clear: there were and will always be people who do not want the Gospel to change things. They want women in their place, economics ordered as best benefits them, politics left to the politicians and “those people” left to suffer since the poor will always be with us. The only widows who should be cared for are the ones they know. People of different color, different beliefs and different religions aren’t our business. We should grow our church by sticking to our own kind.

That kind of sad thinking- untouched by Jesus and the power of the Spirit will always be around, and those engage in it are usually generous with their views. The application of the Gospel means responding to those kinds of opponents as well. We give an answer, we choose to suffer in order to love, and we keep doing what Jesus would do.

But it didn’t.

The previous church that we attended closed because of divisiveness in the Elders Board. In my own life I have seen several churches struggle or fail because of church division. I never want to be the source of division like that. The Apostle Paul didn’t like division either. His command in Ephesians 4:2 really jumped out at me, as I was reading it, and I have kept coming back to it time after time.

Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.

Make every effort. That didn’t mean trying to resolve things once and then giving up. It meant trying and trying and trying again. It meant keeping on trying until there was no other option, and then trying some more.

Every effort.

Well, somehow through all that trying we managed to resolve the issue. For me, it meant saying that being a part of this particular church community was and is more important to me than being right. Being right is not always the most important thing, especially if it divides churches.

How would our churches be different if we “make every effort”? How would church history have looked? Would the Catholic and Orthodox churches still be one? Would the North American church be splintered into so many denominations?

What about truth you ask? Surely that is important?

I like what Saint Augustine had to say about that:

In essentials, unity, in non-essentials diversity, in all things charity.

Perhaps that can be our guiding principles for when we need to stand up for truth. Perhaps that would quell some of the “Worship Wars” that affect so many of our churches, maybe end some of our squabbles that in the grand scheme of things really aren’t that important.

If the Pope today can recite the Nicene Creed without the Filioque clause when in the presence of the Orthodox Patriarch, then maybe that maybe that difference wasn’t so great after all.

Sometimes being right is wrong. Not only if divides churches, but also if it ruins relationships, or breaks up marriages.

It is in the context of “make every effort” that Paul says in Ephesians 5:25

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her

This was a self-sacrificial love. A love that says I don’t put me first. A love that says I don’t have to be right even when I am!

Their was a comic in our newpaper recently where a young woman is interviewing a man for a possible dating relationship. She asks him, “What would you do if you found irrefutable proof that you were right in our disagreement?” He replied, “I would ask your forgiveness for doubting you in the first place.” Or in other words, I am a guy who doesn’t have to be right, even when I am.

So here is what I would like to ask our readers: What has “make every effort” meant to you? Can you think of times where you have “made every effort” and had it result in a positive outcome in your church or relationship? Have you seen the converse happen as well? I look forward to your responses.

He rules the world with grace and truth,
And makes the Nations prove
The glories of His righteousness
And wonders of His love…

My Pastor always tells us to pay close attention to old hymns because you can find some great theology in them. Such is the case with “Joy to the World.” This particular verse of this hymn is the reason I don’t participate in the ‘Christmas Wars’ and why you will never hear me decrying the commercialization of the Christmas holiday. Christmas as we celebrate it is the ultimate example of what this verse teaches.

Think about it for a minute. Christ’s dominion is such that pagan holidays have been gutted of their original meaning and filled with the things of Christ. So much so that the original pagan meanings have all but disappeared from our culture, and would be entirely forgotten, except for a handful of atheists who desperately try to use their origins in a pathetic attempt to delegitimize the holiday. (Note that there is evidence, and good evidence, that the traditional date for Christmas is not pagan in origin, but that is an entirely other subject.)

You may be saying to yourself, “Well, our culture has forgotten the Christian meanings, too.” I say not entirely. Even then, Christ makes the Nations prove the glories of His righteousness and the wonders of His love.

The cathedrals of commerce, our shopping malls and grocery stores, play Christmas music for almost a month before Christmas. Shoppers are literally drenched with the praises of Christ while they engage in what amounts to preparation for extravagantly sacrificial giving to friends and family. Believers and unbelievers alike, once a year, spend what many people consider far too much, just to give it away. This in turn creates a huge wave of cash that washes around the globe creating jobs that allow people in other countries to buy food and clothing. I heard recently that most retail outlets don’t turn a profit until Black Friday, the first day of the Christmas shopping season. God teaches us about giving and provides daily bread for millions. All this because the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Workaholics and greedy businesses on this one day are forced to take a Sabbath rest. (I believe that this is a foretaste of that ‘every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess’ thing mentioned in Scripture.) For some large businesses, this is the only day that they are closed all year.

Families and friends are given a day to be together and enjoy each other.

The Scripture says “And from His fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” By the power of the Word all this is accomplished at Christmas.

I’m not bothered when people or businesses talk about “Happy Holidays.” We all know which holiday they are referring to. Christmas is the 800 pound gorilla on the holiday block. A Jewish friend told me that Hannukah was on par with St. Patrick’s Day. Kwanzaa is in its holiday infancy and it will take a few hundred years (if the Lord should tarry) to see if it has any legs.

I can hear the protests—“These people aren’t Christians, are materialistic, are doing it for selfish reasons, don’t understand the true meaning”, etc, etc. These things are true. Let me paraphrase the patriarch Joseph. He told his brothers that they had meant it for evil (when they sold him into bondage) but God had meant it for good. Concerning Christmas, we mean these things for whatever reason we mean them, but God means them for good. For us and for our neighbors.

Every year I marvel that the whole world can’t help but participate in the celebration of the Incarnation. I am also humbled by the mighty power of the Word that brings this to pass.

Truly it is “Joy to the World.”

MOD: Comments are now closed. Thank you to everyone who has participated in this discussion. No way we will resolve the major disagreements among us, but I hope you learned something from the conversation and will go forward with a greater appreciation for the Biblical picture of Mary.

Today’s post is by guest blogger, Chaplain Mike Mercer. We continue to value your prayers as Michael awaits further tests and test results.

Today in our Lutheran church we read The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) as our primary lectionary text, a soloist sang a version of “Ave Maria,” and our pastor talked about how, by God’s grace, Mary “magnified” the Lord despite the earthly obstacles that stood in her way.

It’s that time of year again. Time for Protestants to talk about Mary.

Evangelicals tend to ignore or downplay Jesus’ mother, in reaction to what they perceive as overemphasis or even heretical devotion to her by the Roman church and other traditions. However, the Gospel of Luke gives her great honor, portraying her as the true and ultimate matriarch of our faith. Mary joins and surpasses Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah, Ruth, and Hannah, and is presented as the mother through whom God brought his redemption promises to pass.

Her canticle, The Magnificat, draws from the song of Hannah, who gave birth to the great prophet Samuel (1Samuel 2:1-10). In her song, Hannah praised God for the gift of a son and the greater promise of a king for Israel, a promise brought to pass in David and later reiterated by God with regard to the future King of kings. “The Lord will judge the ends of the earth,” Hannah sang, “He will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed [messiah].”

Mary’s song revisits these same themes, as she praises God for giving his son, the greater son of David, who will reign as King over all the earth. Her canticle recognizes that what God is doing in and through her is nothing less than the fulfillment of God’s promises to Abraham that through his seed, all the nations on earth will be blessed. The part she plays is so significant that she sings, “Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed.”

Mary’s unprecedented blessedness happens in a context of significant obstacles. All the stories of the matriarchs have this theme. Whether barrenness, conflict, poverty, sinful reputation, lack of power in a male-dominated society, or difficult societal circumstances that they faced, all the mothers who bore children of promise fought serious uphill battles in trusting God for his work in their lives.

And so with Mary:

• Mary was probably a young teenager at the time, limited by her age.
• Her pregnancy marked her as an immoral, unwed mother-to-be.
• She was forced from her home to travel to Bethlehem by the decree of an unfeeling government that cared only about keeping its records straight.
• Away from her home and family, Mary could not even obtain a comfortable place to bear her child.
• A short time later, according to Matthew’s Gospel, she and the rest of the holy family hit the road again, this time as refugees to Egypt, running for their lives.
• All her life, she struggled to grasp the magnitude of what had happened to her and the significance of the one she bore, and yet she continued in faith to the end.

Many times throughout her life, the powers of the world overshadowed, pressured, and threatened this woman. yet in her song she expresses what people of faith in all generations have learned—God is not with those who wield earthly power. His heart is with those who look to him in simple faith and entrust their destiny to him.

Mary is the true and ultimate matriarch of our faith. Though there are many women saints in the Bible, she excels them all. Every generation should call her uniquely blessed. How sad that our discussions about Mary are so often focused on dogma and disagreement when there is so much upon which we can agree. In particular, as Scot McKnight says, honoring and respecting the true Mary always leads us to Jesus.

And so, may God grant us grace to give special honor to Mary, the mother of God, and follow her example during this Advent and Christmas season, and every season throughout the year.