Noted by Chaplain Mike.

I’ve been distracted lately from my reading of Eugene Peterson’s new book, Practice Resurrection, a conversation about spiritual maturity from Ephesians.

Tonight, I came back to it, and found this story. Sublime illustration.

Two friends, Fred and Cheryl, went to Haiti twenty-five years ago to pick up a child they had adopted. Addie was five years old. Her parents had been killed in a traffic accident that left her without a family. As she walked across the tarmac to board the plane, the tiny orphan reached up and slipped her hands into the hands of her new parents whom she had just met. Later they told us of this “birth” moment, how the innocent, fearless trust expressed in that physical act of grasping their hands seemed almost as miraculous as the times their two sons slipped out of the birth canal 15 and 13 years earlier.

That evening, back home in Arizona, they sat down to their first supper together with their new daughter. There was a platter of pork chops and a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. After the first serving, the two teenage boys kept refilling their plates. Soon the pork chops had disappeared and the potatoes were gone. Addie had never seen so much food on one table in her whole life. Her eyes were big as she watched her new brothers, Thatcher and Graham, satisfy their ravenous teenage appetites.

Fred and Cheryl noticed that Addie had become very quiet and realized that something was wrong—agitation…bewilderment…insecurity? Cheryl guessed that it was the disappearing food. She suspected that because Addie had grown up hungry, when food was gone from the table she might be thinking would be a day or more before there was more to eat. Cheryl had guessed right. She took Addie’s hand and led her to the bread drawer and pulled it out, showing her a back-up of three loaves. She took her to the refrigerator, opened the door, and showed her the bottles of milk and orange juice, the fresh vegetables, jars of jelly and jam and peanut butter, a carton of eggs, and a package of bacon. She took her to the pantry with its bins of potatoes, onions, and squash, and the shelves of canned goods—tomatoes and peaches and pickles. She opened the freezer and showed Addie three or four chickens, a few packages of fish, and two cartons of ice cream. All the time she was reassuring Addie that there was lots of food in the house, that no matter how much Thatcher and Graham ate and how fast they ate it, there was a lot more where that came from, she would never go hungry again.

Cheryl didn’t just tell her that she would never go hungry again. She showed her what was in those drawers and behind those doors, named the meats and vegetables, placed them in her hands. It was enough. Food was there, whether she could see it or not. Her brothers were no longer rivals at the table. She was home. She would never go hungry again.

My wife and I were told that story twenty-five years ago. Ever since, whenever I read and pray this prayer of Paul’s [Eph 3:14-21], I think of Cheryl gently leading Addie by the hand through a food tour of the kitchen and pantry, reassuring her of the “boundless riches” (Eph 3:8) and “all the fullness” (3:19) inherent in the household in which she now lives.

Practicing the Resurrection, pp. 159-160

And that’s how a pastor teaches and illustrates the Scriptures.

A classic IM post by Michael Spencer (4/07), presented by Chaplain Mike.

Every time I feel like I have lost my way in the Christian life, I find myself back looking at monasticism, and the lessons I learned in two decades of reading Thomas Merton.

I’m not attracted to Catholicism, but I am very much attracted to the tradition of self-conscious, disciplined spiritual formation into a disciple of Jesus Christ. This is a great failing of our side of the church.

As much as we Protestants talk about being shaped by the Bible alone, most evangelicals are thoroughly formed and shaped by the communities where the Bible is handled, taught and practiced according to a “rule” or accepted authority, and by the media that supports and communicates the values of that community.

It is, without a doubt, one of the most appealing and positive aspects of Catholicism that it is self-conscious about its “rules” and authorities for spiritual formation. (Rule as in “way,” as in The Rule of Benedict.) It surely must be humorous to knowledgeable catholics to look at the various sects, denominations and varieties of evangelicalism and fundamentalism, all claiming to “just read the Bible.”

For a large portion of my recent evangelical journey, I have found myself wandering between three varieties of evangelicalism:

1) Southern Baptist fundamentalism
2) Evangelical Calvinism
3) Generic contemporary evangelical revivalism

All of these communities could be characterized as shaping the spiritualities of believers according to largely unwritten rules and authorities.

The closest thing you get to self-conscious spiritual formation among most evangelicals: Jabez, PDL, or an evangelism course. Or a cruise.

It’s occurred to me that at least two of these streams have done much to shape me in the belief that pursuing polemic argument is a primary expression of discipleship. I have been affected by this kind of spiritual “rule,” and when I step away from it, the effects are very obvious.

Lots of time is taken up in finding error, pointing out error, justifying the seriousness of the error (even if it is in a non-essential area), and responding to the error with the proper arrangement of Biblical material.

It’s amazing how many Christians conceive of almost the entirety of discipleship in terms of argumentation. This is seen in the pastoral models they choose, the books/blogs they write and the spiritual activities they value most (debate and classroom lecture.)

These largely unarticulated forms of spiritual formation can be seen in what is not important. I note with interest that one simply cannot say enough bad about most kinds of contemplative prayer, and any sort of silence among many of the reformed particularly. Any kind of intentional approach to spiritual formation, and any kind of intentional approach to discipleship (Dallas Willard, for example) is undertaken amidst a barrage of criticism. If the imagination is mentioned, all fire alarms are pulled and a search for Oprah Winfrey ensues.

Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.

The “fully formed” Christian in these traditions is not a person of silence, but of much talking, talking and more talking. Worship is lecture, a rally, or an emotion-centered event. The primary encounter with the Bible is exposition and lecture. Correcting theological error, moral error and ecclesiastical error is the main business of the church.

In other forms of evangelicalism spiritual formation is done under the guise of church growth and using ones “gifts” to grow the church. Or perhaps in the cause of righteous, upright living in the culture war. Again, the kinds of prayer, worship, community life and worship that are generated by these priorities are obvious to most observers, but largely invisible to the participants.

In all the years I was reading Merton’s spiritual direction writings, I can’t recall anything I would call polemic of any kind. He simply didn’t waste his life arguing with others. He read scripture constantly, but as the stuff of prayer, liturgy and meditation, not as the raw material for debate. He went through the “political years” when he was critical of his church for not living up to his standards of peacemaking and justice, but in the end it was the ancient life, the deep life of monastic rhythms that sustained Merton and made him a man and a monk. He worked on himself for a lifetime. Some will say because he didn’t believe in the reformation doctrine of justification. Perhaps. Maybe, however, the path of personal spiritual formation isn’t as instant, passive or automatic as we’ve been told.

I’m not holding Merton up as an ideal. Far from it. I’m simply saying that when one’s spirituality is formed by the pronouncements of pastors who are constantly chasing church growth, the culture war or the latest challenge to Calvinism, you are going to get one result, and when you go back to the sources, find the value of the ancient paths of formation, value silence, read, meditate, contemplate and seek to grow in love, you will get another result.

I can’t help but think there is an “internet Christian” spirituality as well. Formed by reading blogs. Expressing itself in writing. Concerned with all the perceptions of reality that run rampant on the net. I’m sure this isn’t a good thing either.

Spiritual formation happens in the real world. It’s not just reading, but it’s discussion and asking questions of those further down the road. It’s having leaders who are humble before the Word, and not leaders who take the word and become the pictures of arrogance. It’s seeing your sin in the light of holiness, not excusing your sin in the light of the latest crisis.

Much evangelical spirituality has become like fantasy baseball. We have our own league, our own team, our own statistics, our own insulated world in which all of this matters. We can give great speeches and write long posts (and I am the chief of sinners here) on what doesn’t matter much at all. These days, we don’t all get our 15 minutes of fame, but we can all worship a pastor, go to a winning church, opine on a blog, imagine our arguments are significant in the world.

Meanwhile, we start to look and act more like a fantasy league junky, and fewer and fewer people have any idea what we are talking about.

Here’s where I have come out on this:

Get the devotional books out. The old ones.

Read Peterson, and Nouwen, and Groeshel, and Bonhoeffer and Whitney. With a group of others who care about the same things.

Turn it all off for a couple of hours every day.

Find the silence.

Chew up, meditate over, digest the scriptures.

Repent of living in the community of unaware evangelicals who devalue spirituality and overvalue polemic, argument and debate.

Look for the sins that grow in this mess, and root them up.

Chaplain Mike continues his response to this new book.

We’re back after a break to resume our introduction to and consideration of Eugene Peterson’s latest book. Practice Resurrection is a theological conversation on growing to maturity in Christ, based on a study of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

In concluding his introduction to the epistle, Peterson draws attention to two texts that bring out Paul’s message.

The first is Ephesians 4.1: “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life [walk] worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” The key word is “worthy.” The word is a metaphor, referring to a balancing scale. Situated as it is, right at the pivot point in the letter, this picture-word describes the exact balance point at which we find wholeness and maturity in Christ. “When God’s calling and our walking fit, we are growing up in Christ.”

The second text is Psalm 68, a passage Paul quotes in chapter 4 of his letter. Peterson writes about how Paul adapts this text to describe Jesus, ascending as King to heaven, receiving gifts of worship (which is the emphasis of the psalm), but then giving gifts to his people as well (Paul’s emphasis). This is extremely significant for Paul, for by placing the emphasis here,

Paul lays out the conditions in which we grow up, namely, in a profusion of gifts: “When he ascended on high…he gave gifts to his people.” The ascended Jesus, Jesus at the right hand of the Father, Christ the King, launched his rule by giving gifts, gifts that turn out to be ways in which we participate in his kingly, gospel rule. This kingdom life is a life of entering more and more into a world of gifts, and then, as we are able, using them in a working relationship with our Lord.

This is one of the best sentences I have read in a long time: “This kingdom life is a life of entering more and more into a world of gifts…” Growing up in Christ is a process of continual discovery, an ongoing exploration and appropriation of the grace of God. We have been brought into a new creation, filled with wondrous benefits and blessings, God-soaked through and through. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (Eph. 1.3).

These two texts complement each other. Specifically, Psalm 68 grounds Ephesians 4.1 and its balance metaphor in God’s grace and generosity toward us in Christ. Without it, the task of “growing up in Christ” would be a hopeless endeavor. We could never “walk” in a way that is worthy of God’s “calling” by ourselves.

However, because our King has ascended on high and brought us into his glorious reign, we can now grow because we live and move and have our being in a new creation that is filled with God’s gifts.

Ok. So, let’s get real about the Bible.

A lot of folks have a mistaken and inadequate understanding of what the Bible is like and what it contains.

I agree with author Frederick Buechner, who says:

When a minister reads out of the Bible, I am sure that at least nine times out of ten the people who happen to be listening at all hear not what is really being said but only what they expect to hear read. And I think that what most people expect to hear read from the Bible is an edifying story, an uplifting thought, a moral lesson—something elevating, obvious, and boring. So that is exactly what very often they do hear. Only that is too bad because if you really listen…there is no telling what you might hear.

He’s exactly right. Most of us have the idea that the Bible is a nice book for nice people about nice folks who said and did nice things, where everything leads to a nice and happy ending.

Take the first book in the Bible, the book of Genesis, for example. It’s likely that many people have Sunday School images in their minds when they think of Genesis—they picture God creating the world, Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden, Noah gathering cute little animals onto the ark and God putting a beautiful rainbow in the sky, Abraham and Sarah having a baby in their old age, and Joseph wearing his coat of many colors. Nice.

But here’s what’s in the real, unedited version:

• A man and woman standing in nakedness and shame, blaming each other for what they did wrong.
• An angry and envious man, lures his brother into a field, brutally murders him, and then tries to cover it up.
• The world becomes so corrupt and violent that God decides to virtually wipe out the human population and start over.
• Noah gets drunk, and one of his son dishonors him by committing an immoral act in his father’s bedroom.
• Abraham twice tries to pass his wife off to another man to save his own skin. Later, his son Isaac does the same thing.
• Abraham sleeps with one of the household servants so he can have an heir. This was his wife’s idea, but she becomes so jealous after it happens, that she angrily throws the woman and her son out of house to live in poverty and shame.
• Lot offers to let a violent mob gang rape his daughters. Lot’s daughters later get their own father drunk and sleep with him so that they can have children.
• Jacob, Isaac’s son, is a deceitful mama’s boy who tricks his father and brother out of important family legal rights. He has to run away from home so his brother won’t kill him.
• He goes to work for his ruthless uncle, who keeps him in virtual slavery for decades. Jacob escapes by tricking him and running away.
• Jacob’s wives live in constant jealousy and competition, continually tricking Jacob and each other in an ongoing battle for supremacy in the family.
• Jacob’s sons loathe one of their brothers, sell him into slavery, then lie to their father and tell him he died.
• Jacob’s daughter Dinah is raped. Her brothers exact revenge by deceiving and then murdering the perpetrator, destroying and looting his city, and taking all his family members captive.
• Judah refuses to find a husband for his widowed daughter-in-law, Tamar. So she disguises herself as a prostitute, tricks her father-in-law into sleeping with her, and becomes pregnant.

I had a pastor friend who once told me he was planning to do a family teaching series from Genesis. I’m afraid I wasn’t very kind. In fact, I laughed out loud and said, “What are you going to talk about, how to be a complete bum and still have God bless your family?”

He didn’t think it was funny. He had a overly pious view of the Bible that didn’t allow for the ugly stuff. However, that’s what Genesis (and the rest of the Bible) is like! It should be rated “R”—raw, realistic, and in some instances, even repulsive. It couldn’t be further from “nice.”

However, there’s this too: the Bible insists that, even in the midst of all the muck and mire of the reality of human sin, brokenness, ugliness and strife, a God of grace is present and working to fulfill a plan and ultimately make something new and good. The Bible is also rated “R” because its main theme is “redemption.”

In one of his lesser known plays, Eugene O’Neill wrote, “This is Daddy’s bedtime secret for today: Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue!”

I encourage you to read the Bible for what it really is and says. It’s not very nice, but it’s real, and I believe it puts broken things back together.

Here on Internet Monk, Michael has made no secret of the fact that he is a huge fan of pastor, author, and professor Eugene Peterson. And I am right there with him in my admiration of Peterson’s writings.

If you would like to go back and read some of what Michael has said about the man and his writings, here are some posts from the iMonk archives about Peterson:

March 4, 2005
August 22, 2007
January 31, 2008
Sabbatical Journal I
Sabbatical Journal continued
Sabbatical Journal conclusion

Though best known in popular circles as the author of The Message paraphrase of the Bible, it is Peterson’s earlier works on what it means to be a pastor and his devotional books and Bible studies that I have long loved and treasured as encouragements for my spiritual life and ministry.

The other day I received my copy of Eugene Peterson’s new book, Practice Resurrection: A Conversation on Growing Up in Christ. In this work, Peterson has his readers contemplate the message of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians to help us learn what it means to, “grow up to the full stature of Christ.”

This is the final book in Peterson’s “Conversations on Spiritual Theology” series. Each book is deeply insightful and well worth reading. The other four are:

1. Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology
2. Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading
3. The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus Is the Way
4. Tell It Slant: A Conversation on the Language of Jesus in His Stories and Prayers

I plan to put up several posts on what Eugene Peterson has to say in Practice Resurrection. I hope you will join the conversation.

In my view, Eugene Peterson has been one of the most thoughtful and eloquent critics of American Christianity. In the introduction to Practice Resurrection, he takes on the subject of how we have handled spiritual growth.

We cannot overemphasize bringing men and women to new birth in Christ. Evangelism is essential, critically essential. But is it not obvious that growth in Christ is equally essential? Yet the American church has not treated it with an equivalent urgency. The American church runs on the euphoria and adrenaline of new birth—getting people into the church, into the kingdom, into causes, into crusades, into programs. We turn matters of growing up over to Sunday school teachers, specialists in Christian education, committees to revise curricula, retreat centers, and deeper life conferences, farming it out to parachurch groups for remedial assistance. I don’t find pastors and professors, for the most part, very interested in matters of formation in holiness. They have higher profile things to tend to.

Americans in general have little tolerance for a centering way of life that is submissive to the conditions in which growth takes place: quiet, obscure, patient, not subject to human control and management. The American church is uneasy in these conditions. Typically, in the name of “relevance,” it adapts itself to the prevailing American culture and is soon indistinguishable from that culture: talkative, noisy, busy, controlling, image-conscious.

…Not long ago a pastor who has made an art form of pole vaulting from church to church told me that I was wasting my time on this, there was no challenge to it, it was about as exciting as standing around watching paint dry.

I suggested to him that most of our ancestors in both Israel and church have spent most of their time watching the paint dry, that the persevering, patient, unhurried work of growing up in Christ has occupied the center of the church’s life for centuries, and that this American marginalization is, well, American. He dismissed me. He needed, he said, a challenge. I took it from his tone and manner that a challenge was by definition something that could be met and accomplished in forty days. That’s all the time, after all, that it took Jesus.

For far too long now, with full backing from our culture, we have let the vagaries of our emotional needs call the shots. For too long we have let ecclesiastical market analysis set the church’s agenda. For too long we have stood by unprotesting as self-appointed experts on the Christian life have replace the “full stature of Christ” with desiccated stick figures.

That’s a powerful critique.

Peterson’s counter-cultural answer is for the church to “practice resurrection,” to learn to walk with Jesus in a reality that is not of our own making or controlling.

I can’t wait to see what he has to say. Hope you’ll join the journey and the conversation.

Chaplain Mike posts today’s Open Mic question on behalf of the iMonk, Michael Spencer.

When I received this from Michael and was asked to post it, it reminded me that, often in my work as a hospice chaplain, I read the Psalms for my patients. However, I usually edit my readings. Why? The psalm Michael asks us to consider is a prime example.

Psalm 139 is a perennial favorite for Christians. Who doesn’t love the poetic picture it paints of God’s intimate knowledge and care of his people? Who doesn’t rejoice in its reassurance that we will never be without God’s presence? that he is constantly thinking of us and active in providing for us and protecting us?

But…but…

I guarantee you that I don’t read verses 19-22:

O that you would kill the wicked, O God,
and that the bloodthirsty would depart from me—
those who speak of you maliciously,
and lift themselves up against you for evil!
Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
I hate them with perfect hatred;
I count them my enemies.

Why don’t we feel comfortable reading these verses?

Why do we feel compelled to “pick and choose” when we read the psalms?

Why do our minds try to justify or filter out such phrases as “I hate them with perfect hatred”? And what does a statement like that mean anyway?

How do we understand these imprecations in the light of other Scriptures, like the Sermon on the Mount, that say plainly, “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you”?

The mic is yours. Use it thoughtfully and let’s have a discussion about this.

Hey look! If you read carefully, you will even find another “Bible = loaded gun” metaphor!

Oh. We’re not talking about interpreting the Bible? Well….I am, so deal.

I usually just don’t say anything when I hear Biblical interpretation leave the road and head for the ditches. But doggone it, there’s some fairly basic stuff here that could be very helpful to those of you who genuinely love the Bible.

So in no particular order…

1) Get a decent book on Biblical interpretation and read it. I don’t mean a Bible handbook or introduction. I mean a book on Biblical interpretation. So, even though you don’t need more books, I command you to purchase the following two volumes. (Used & Cheap. Fear not.)

Graham Goldsworthy, Gospel Centered Hermenuetics .

Julian, Crabtree and Crabtree, The Language of God. If you can only get one. Get this one. Read it out loud to yourself several times.

Those of you who claim to “just read the Bible” are not. You’re interpreting the Bible. Actually, you’re bringing your interpretation to the Bible and either you don’t know it or you think that your interpretation and God’s word are the same thing, in which case you need to go join one of several blogs I could recommend.

In all seriousness, evangelicals have a remarkable problem when it comes to treating the scriptures with respect. It’s astounding how many Christians tend to act as if any thought that comes into their head pertaining to the Bible is de facto true because they believe the Spirit is guiding them. If your use of the Bible were like handling a gun, you might have shot several people by now. Put that thing down and learn some basics on using the weapon.

if you can’t afford the books, then try this free Biblical Theology course from the Worldwide Classroom at Covenant Seminary.

2) Now, let’s take the issue of what to do with an event in a historical narrative. I could pick any of hundreds, but let’s use one I have been involved with recently: Ezra’s verse by verse expounding of the Law in Nehemiah 8.

A Bible teacher I know has been expounding Nehemiah 8:1-8. In this passage, Nehemiah goes through the book of the law and other priests explain it and give the sense of it to the people. My friend sees in this an authoritative methodology for preaching. All preaching must be verse by verse through Biblical books. Many Bible teachers sees this as a Biblically authoritative matter and a crucial issue in the demise of churches.

I preach and teach through books from time to time, and do not disagree that this is of value, but I do not see it as the only Biblically authoritative model for preaching. (This has been claimed in Southern Baptist circles for years, and the results are hardly impressive. “Verse by verse” preachers int the SBC characteristically ignore context, overall message and Christ-centered interpretation to simply “ride” whatever aspect of the passage is most appealing to them. Instead of getting a walk-through of a passage, one hears a passage “used,” in a blatantly cavalier manner.)

Nehemiah 8: 1-18 is the one of a very few examples of verse by verse teaching in the Biblical record. It’s a good example, but Ezra’s reading and explanation of the law was an event in Hebrew history, not a command for all believers. We have no reason to believe this continued in Jewish life. (Synagogue worship followed a kind of lectionary, with comments on the text of the week.)

If Ezra did verse by verse exposition, does that mean we are all under a scriptural command to do the same? I don’t believe so. Jesus didn’t do it. He told parables and taught topcially. Paul didn’t do it. He preached the Gospel using lots of citations from various places in various books, often cited rather creatively. The apostles didn’t do it. Read the sermons in Acts. The author of Hebrews- the longest sermon in the New Testament- doesn’t do it. That book cites passage from all over the Old Testament in a very eclectic manner.

Ezra’s methodology is never cited in a corrective passage, like I Corinthians or Revelation 2-3, as being the key to church health. This particular methodology is never mentioned in the pastoral letters as the assignment of a preaching elder like Timothy. There is good reason to believe that verse by verse exposition of Old Testament books was a rarity in the Gentile churches until bishops like Augustine and Origien began preaching the Old Testament Christologically using a verse by verse method heavy on allegorization.

Ezra’s method is also characteristic of teaching (didache) rather than of proclamation (kerygma), which always centers on God’s exaltation of Jesus as messiah and Lord. Ezra’s situation demanded that he conduct a “Bible school” for the returned community.

Traversing the long landscapes of Biblical books a verse at a time cannot be done at the expense of a clearly Christ-centered message, and this means we must come to the Biblical books with our Gospel-shaped theology as a presupposition. Gospel ministers know what is the message of the Bible, and they are called to put that message- Christ and the Gospel- front and center in every examination of any Biblical book.

(I examined a lot of this in a classic IM post on how to preach books of the Bible.)

So I’d conclude there are many different models for preaching and teaching in the Bible, and we’re free under the leadership of the Spirit to use as many as are appropriate in any congregation to accomplish the maturing of believers in Christ. For example, formal worship may use a shorter, application-oriented homily from the Gospels, while a mid-week Bible class may go through books in a more “verse by verse” fashion. An evangelistic presentation may deal with only a small portion of scripture, while a discipleship class may use a selection of scripture.

Remember, the fact that something happened in the Bible doesn’t mean you can use that event as authoritative and mandatory for all believers and all situations.

3. The mark of a real interpreter is a respect for the fact of Biblical interpretation in every Christian tradition and community, and real humility for where he/she stands in the process.

There are people who know far more than you do. There are scholars who have dedicated their lives to understanding the Bible in ways you and I can barely even understand. There is a deep influence of culture and language at work in interpretation. We all bring baggage, sin, wrong assumptions, arrogance, ignorance and well-intentioned errors to the process of interpretation.

If a room full of various kinds of Christians are each asked to interpret the “rock” passage in Matthew 16 or the key passages on Baptism or the accounts of the Lord’s Supper, there are going to be deeply divergent methods, assumptions and conclusions.

Now some of those “interpreters” will simply proceed under the assumption that whatever they’ve done has arrived at the true interpretation and everyone else is making grievous errors. And maybe they are right. But perhaps they are wrong. Or, far more likely, is the prospect that the Biblical texts simply don’t give us enough information to always authoritatively answer the questions. Perhaps legitimate competing presuppositions turn the whole matter around. And, yes, we often have to consult our tradition to know exactly what we believe. Yes….shocking news!….most of us BRING some of our conclusions with us, and no amount of interpretation will change our mind.

(The other day a Catholic friend announced that everything he believes is plainly taught in scripture. Folks, I would say that if there aren’t things you believe that AREN’T plainly taught in scripture, but ONLY taught in tradition, you probably aren’t being an honest Catholic. And the very same things can be said of any of our traditions. We Baptists are quite sure the Bible supports that American flag in the sanctuary and deacons running the church, right?)

Imagine for a moment that a person is convinced that a true work of the Holy Spirit only occurs in a spontaneous, unstructured environment. Will they see the liturgical aspects of the Psalms? Will they see the ordered worship of the Old Testament? Or suppose someone comes to the text with a particular view of church government. Will they see the texts that do not support their view? Will they have an interpretation that fairly hears those passages?

As I said, the mark of a real interpreter is an appreciation for the fact, process and limitations of all of our efforts to understand the Bible. We might take note that our over-confidence regarding what the Bible says has embarrassed us over and over in Christian history. Will we ever learn the lesson that a true interpreter knows his/her interpretation is a human work, and a fragile one at best?

In the end, will they treat other interpreters as loving God, the Bible and the church as much as they do, or will they suggest that anyone who REALLY reads the Bible will come to their conclusion?

Someone, somewhere- and I can tell you where- will look at this last point and tell you its all about the postmodern rejection of certainty. You can be sure they will be 120% sure of that, and always will be.

You know it. The last day. The final judgment. The Son of Man seated on his throne in judgment. All nations gathered before him. Sheep and goats. Left hand, right hand. Those who inherit the kingdom. Those who hear the most horrifying words, “depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels”.

What makes the difference?

“…for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

When did we do this?

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:35-40)

And so, as the pastor exhorted us this morning, Christians must have a “least of these” mindset. Like Jesus, who came to proclaim good news to the poor, release to prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed (Luke 4:18), even so his followers must humble themselves to reach out to the neediest of our neighbors and serve them with the Savior’s love.

This passage is so stirring, so stimulating to the imagination, so sobering in its implications, that one cannot help but pause to take stock of one’s own life in its light.

Except…

Except that I am convinced we have it all wrong.

I assert that, when we look beneath the common interpretation of Matthew 25:31-46, we find a classic case of assuming what the Bible says, just because we have been told this is what it means, over and over again. Because of an ingrained traditional reading, we have become inoculated against reading the text as it is.

What is Jesus saying in Matthew 25:31-46?

Matthew has placed this passage at the end of Jesus’ “Olivet Discourse” about things to come until the “end of the age” (Matthew 24-25). The “sheep and goats” story is the last of three parables that Matthew attaches to the end of this “sermon”. These parables form the “conclusion” to Jesus’ message and drive home some practical messages he wants the disciples to glean from his teaching.

It is important to read this in the context of the entire Gospel and where it is going. Christ is about to leave his disciples’ presence, and in the interim between his ascension and return, he will leave them with his “Great Commission” in Matthew 28:18-20. This passage shares some things in common with the parable of the sheep and goats.

And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’

From Jesus’ ascension to the “end of the age,” Jesus’ disciples are commanded to go to the “nations,” making disciples and receiving them into the community of faith.

Another passage that provides insight into Matt. 25 is Matthew 10, which gives a preview of the disciples’ mission. Here the author shows Jesus sending the disciples on an interim outreach to “the lost sheep of Israel.” In addition to instructing them on where they are to go and what they are to do, the majority of Jesus’ mission discourse is devoted to describing the various reactions they should expect, as well as the reward and punishments that will be doled out to those who either welcome or reject their ministry.

For some—“it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town.”

For others—“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

Most Bible scholars understand the teachings of this passage to go beyond the immediate context of the specific events in Jesus’ ministry to which they are attached. They are meant to be read by the church as instructions for our mission today as well.

With this context from Matthew in mind, let’s go back and read Matthew 25:31-46.

Who is being called before the Son of Man on his throne?

The nations.

On what basis does he evaluate them?

On how they treated him. But not on how they treated him personally. Rather, on how they treated, “the least of these who are members of my family” (lit. my brothers). Jesus said (as he did in ch.10) that, as you treated them, so you treated me.

The “least of these” are Jesus’ family members who have gone into the world between his ascension and the end of the age to take his good news and love to the nations.

As Paul said, the “least of these” are those who are “always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.” (2Cor 4:10-12)

If I am a believer in Jesus, a member of his family, I am one of the “least of these.” Same for you. The nations will be judged on the basis of how they receive us and the message we bring.

Some might say that reading Matthew 25 like this will take away our motivation to serve the poor and needy. In fact, I find this to be a much more challenging and convicting reading of this passage than the traditional one. Far from removing our motivation to love and serve others, it challenges us to find our identity in Jesus alone and to be willing to sacrifice anything and everything else in order to be his people in the world.

And ultimately, this passage assures us that Jesus has our back in the end. He is not unaware of how his people (the least of these) are being treated in the world, and one day there will be a just accounting from all nations.

The news story is strange and tragic. Three college softball players go for a night time drive in the country. On an unfamiliar road, they take a wrong turn and drive into a pond….and drown.

There was a day before. A day with no thought of drowning. A day with family and friends. Perhaps with no thought of eternity, God or heaven. There was a day when every assumption was that tomorrow would be like today.

(Note: My friend Gary passed on after I wrote this piece.) My friend Gary has been the night dean at our school for more than 20 years. His wife has been in poor health, but he has been a workhorse of health. He’s walked miles every day, eaten a vegetarian diet and always kept the rest of us lifted up with his smile and constant focus on the joy he took in his salvation.

Two weeks ago, the doctor turned to him and said leukemia. Today he stands on the crumbling edge of this earthly shadow, looking at the next world, fighting for his life with all that medicine and prayer can offer. Our prayers for him as a school community have been continuous, because we never thought there would be such a day.

There was a day before he heard “leukemia.” A day of work, chores, bills, hopes of seeing a grandchild, prayers for students, love for Suzi. Not a thought that the journey of life contained such a surprising turn for him.

And on that day, Gary was full of faith, full of a servant’s heart, ready for many more days or ready for this to be last one before whatever was around the corner.

We all live the days before. We are living them now.

There was a day before 9-11.

There was a day before your child told you she was pregnant.

There was a day before your wife said she’d had enough.

There was a day before your employer said “lay offs.”

We are living our days before. We are living them now.

Some of us are doing, for the last time, what we think we will be doing twenty years from now.

Some of us are on the verge of a much shorter life, or a very different life, or a life turned upside down.

Some of us are preaching our last sermon, making love for the last time, saying “I love you” to our children for the last time in our own home. Some of us are spending our last day without the knowledge of eternal judgment and the reality of God. We are promising tomorrow will be different and tomorrow is not going to give us the chance, because God has a different tomorrow entirely on our schedule. We just don’t know it today.

Who am I on this day before I am compelled to be someone else? What am I living for? How am I living out the deepest expression of who I am and what I believe?

My life is an accumulation of days lived out of what I believe is true every day.

Gary lived every day with the story of Jesus nearby and the joy of the Lord a ready word to share.

When the day came that “leukemia” was the word he had to hear, he was already living a day resting in the victory of Jesus. That word, above all earthly powers, cannot be taken away. It speaks louder and more certainly the more the surprising words of providence and tragedy shout their unexpected turns into our ears.

Live each day as the day that all of the Gospel is true. Live this day and be glad in it. Live this day as the day of laying down sin and taking up the glad and good forgiveness of Jesus. Live this day determined to be useful and joyful in Jesus. Live this day in a way that, should all things change tomorrow, you will know that the Lord is your God and this is the day to be satisfied in him.

For example, it is not unusual for me to hear sermons with no specific reference to the scriptural, creedal or commonly articulated central ideas of the Gospel. God is generic. The Christian life is “living for God.” The mission of the Christian is either public morality or “being a good witness.” The Bible is a collection of proof texts.

The internet theological class usually is careful to be in a church where all the proper bases have been touched and the theological content is high. But for many other Christians, the Gospel content of a Joel Osteen or the Prosperity preachers seems quite appropriate. Osteen has even said that traditional Gospel content is offensive to what he is trying to do. One can listen to the prosperity preachers or culture warriors for weeks and not hear a clear, cogent articulation of foundational content. Moralism, legalism, cultural religion and shallow sentimentality prevail.

I use articulations such as the ones in the previous posts as component parts of almost everything I say. Tomorrow I will preach on “My Kingdom is not of this world,” but I will relate the Kingdom to Christ, the mission of Christians to the mission of Jesus and the Gospel’s diagnosis of the human situation to the entire mission of God. These will be component parts, not the entire message. The same will be true as I preach advent texts next week and so on.

Other Gospel appropriate Gospel articulations might center around grace, sin, judgment, community or love. I’d love to hear some of yours.

These component parts of teaching and preaching are one response to the issue of Christless preaching. I’d be very interested in your responses.

Many IM readers may not have read the original “Christless Preaching.” I’m linking it here for your reading and commentary. I’m also linking a similar piece: “No Jesus Needed.”

On Christless Preaching
Here’s another: No Jesus Needed

There was a time I wanted to fight this situation, but at this point I feel overwhelmed. I have to face it in the preaching at my own place of ministry and no amount of explicit addressing of what’s happening seems to ring true. Something is missing. It doesn’t feel like a false Gospel- though it certainly can amount to one- and I’m not looking foe minutiae and footnotes. It feels like something was laid aside, then lost and now everyone is used to it. We can sing about it and “amen” it, but there’s a tangible, pervasive absence of the Gospel as foundational content.

A few years ago I did a funeral with a local minister at a Holiness church. He preached first and never came near the Gospel. There was more Gospel at a Jehovah’s Witness funeral than at this funeral. I got up and simply presented the Gospel, especially how Christ’s life, death, resurrection and gift of righteousness gave hope at this time. There was an awkward silence.

If you live where I do, I have some advice: Book your own funeral preacher now and get someone who will preach the Gospel. (David Head, get out your schedule book.)