Archive for the ‘Discipleship’ Category
As I was working in our church’s kitchen one Sunday morning recently, helping to prepare for an all-church meal on the grounds, I overheard one of my fellow workers ask another, “If Jesus were alive today and came to our church, what would He look like, what would He wear?”
Laughter broke out as a number of suggestions were made. Everything from a “nice suit” to a “robe” was mentioned. I chuckled to myself and thought it a fun topic for some chit-chat to help pass the time.
One person suggested the He would probably dress somewhat generically, like “everyman,” in order to relate to as many as possible and offend no one. Doesn’t scripture say that there was nothing physically about Him that stood out from the ordinary? An interesting perspective, I thought to myself.
I would imagine that most of us have wondered the same thing at times. I know I’ve certainly tossed the idea around in my own head before.
What WOULD Jesus look like? How would He dress? Would His hair be long or short? Would He have a beard? Would He carry a Bible with Him? A cell phone, perhaps? Would He know the songs we sing, or even sing along?
In other words, would He ‘look’ (i.e., dress, act, think, worship) like us?
Let’s be honest. A large part of our identity as believers (particularly in the worshiper-centric culture of the American church) is tied to the deep seeded, but unspoken, concept that He is in fact ‘like us.’ Our music reflects it, our teaching reflects it, our art reflects it, and often our preaching reflects it.
After all, when we take a look around our churches on any given Sunday morning, what do we see? In spite of the minor variations, most everyone there ‘looks’ like us. Even when we attend larger, cross-denominational church functions, it’s same thing. For the most part, we all tend to ‘look’ alike.
Thus, in the recesses of our subconscious minds we’ve determined that He, too, must look like us. He must. Our corporate identity depends on it.
Yet, as I listened to the conversation that morning something else began to tug at the back of my mind. Something seemed amiss with this entire line of thinking. Although the original question was offered out of harmless curiosity, this was altogether the wrong question to be asking.
No, there was another question we should be asking ourselves, both as individuals and as His body.
If Jesus were alive today and came to OUR church, would WE look like HIM?
Would we? Honestly?
Would we relate to Him as He is, whatever His appearance, or only if He looked like US?
Or would we even recognize Him? Are we sure?
In John 10, Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me….My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” But knowing, hearing and following are prefaced by watching, listening and recognizing.
I propose to you that on any given Sunday, at any given church, Jesus often slips in (and out), unnoticed.
We don’t see Him when He visits, because we’re not usually watching for Him. Or when do see Him we don’t recognize Him, because He seldom looks like us.
But then, I’m pretty sure we actually have seen Him there, haven’t we? You know…
~ The middle-aged man who sat quietly at the end of our row a few weeks back. We didn’t take the time to meet him. We needed that time instead to complain to the grounds keeper about the trash we found on the sidewalk and to the worship leader for his choice of choruses. Come to think of it, we haven’t seen that man since.
~ Or the young woman three rows back who ‘forgot’ to drop her toddler at the nursery. He made quite a bit of noise during the service, disrupting the usual quiet of the congregation. We might have said something to her afterward about the “wonderful nursery facility” the church offers, but we didn’t recognize her, so we held our tongue and only glared slightly as we walked passed.
~ Then there was that unkempt man from a couple months ago, dressed in dirty jeans and wearing a leather vest – with a chain. Looked like he’d just dropped in from a biker gang. Unshaven, long hair. Might have smelled a bit, too, but we didn’t get close enough to know for sure. Somebody said they thought he was the son of an old widow who lived down the street from the church. Rumored to be into drugs. They didn’t trust him. Good thing he’s not been back.
~ Oh, and there’s that teenage girl who was there last week. Sat alone across the sanctuary. Stared into the distance during the whole service. How odd. Someone should mention to her, in a nice way of course, that short skirts and tights with holes in them are not appropriate for church. And her hair – hot pink! Wow, what’s up with that?
~ And don’t forget the old man who’s always asleep on the bus stop bench at the corner across from the church. The one we pass every Sunday morning on the way to services. The police really ought to do something about him. It IS against the law, after all. Come to think of it, he’s not been there the past two Sundays. Maybe he’s moved on to somewhere else.
Any of these sound familiar? Did we see them when they visited? Could they have been Jesus in disguise? Perhaps? No?
But how would we know unless we take the time to step into their world and find out? And why don’t we?
I’ll ask it again. Is it really because they don’t look like us…or because WE really don’t look like HIM?
If He were to drop in on our church this week, would we even know He had been there? Or would He move quietly on while we concern ourselves with other, ‘more important’ business.
Sadly, for some of us, He may have already moved on. We just don’t know it, yet.
“And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me’.” Matthew 25:40
My Grandmother passed away recently. She lived a long and, by all accounts (including her own), a blessed life. She loved to cook, to quilt, to fish, and to talk. And she was especially good at all of them.
Born in 1914, she grew up during the 1st World War and the “roaring 20’s.” She was raised in north, central Arkansas, where her family suffered through the great depression of the 1930’s. As a young women she worked from dawn to dusk alongside other hired farm hands (both black and white) picking cotton, corn, beans and other crops in the hot, Arkansas sun. As a wife and mother in the 1940’s she watched as family members and friends went off to a 2nd World War, some never to return. She supported her family through difficult economic times as they migrated from place-to-place, getting what work could be found.
She witnessed the advent of so much of what has shaped the face of our world today: revolutions, two world wars, the birth of the atomic age, the atrocities of the Holocaust, the rise of Communism and the Cold War, the race riots of the 1950’s; the dawn of the Space Age, the assassination of a president, the chaos of the 1960’s and 70’s; the explosion of the computer age and modern technology, the fall of the “Evil Empire,” the coming of the “me” generation, and the spread of terrorism in the 1980’s and 90’s; the end of a millennium, the first and second greatest attacks by foreign powers on US soil, the recent rise to power of the generation of radicals forged in the chaos 40 years earlier, and so much, much more.
Although she never learned to drive a car, never flew on an airplane, never bought a television (the family gave her a small 13” black-and-white TV when I was a teenager), and never used a computer, she was quite comfortable navigating her new cell phone at age 90. Yet, interestingly enough, none of these facts or events was mentioned during her funeral.
There was nothing about personal achievements or significant contributions to society, as is often the case for persons of some repute. Instead, those who shared their fondest memories spoke of a woman who was “kind-hearted,” “generous,” “giving,” “thankful” and “loving.” It was said that she “never had very much in the way of worldly goods, and she was content with that,” and that “no matter how much or how little she had, she always had enough to share with those in need.” She was described as having a deep faith and a strong Christian witness. It was said that she “never complained about her lot in life” and “never lost hope, but always endured, no matter what came her way.”
Not to say that she had no faults. We all do. But in her nearly 99 years she brought joy, stability, caring, kindness, guidance, and love to all those around her who were blessed with having known her. She modeled discipline, hard work, caring, generosity, goodwill, faithfulness and contentment to those who were (and still are) paying attention.
That being said, take a minute and grab your favorite version of the Bible. Give Luke 12:22-34 a read; 1 Corinthians 13, also. Now go back and reread the last two paragraphs above. Let it sink in for moment.
What do you notice? Perhaps the same thing I noticed as I was sitting in the church pew that day listening to others describing the life of the woman I knew as “Grandma?”
Kind, generous, hopeful, caring, faithful, thankful, content, loving. As she was eulogized with these words, those two passages of scripture (and several others) came to mind. And then it hit me. And in that moment my sorrow turned to peace.
What they were really describing was a life that, according to Scripture, had been well lived. The life of a servant who had faithfully run the race and finished the course. The life of one who had truly sought first His Kingdom and His righteousness, then trusted that all she needed would in fact be provided by Him. A life filled with all that truly matters and very little of what doesn’t. Simply put, an abundant life.
She had lived through great trials and triumphs, endured poverty and hunger, suffered great losses and experienced great joys. Yet through it all had remained steadfast to the admonition of Scripture to live selflessly, with a loving heart toward others.
Would that we could all say that about ourselves in this consumption driven, accumulation oriented, achievement-at-any-cost world. Sadly, the vast majority of those of us who claim the name of Christ have fallen victim to conformity with the world’s definition of an abundant life, rather than Christ’s.
In Luke 12, He specifically tells us that we are NOT to pursue the things that the nations of the world chase after (my paraphrase). Yet, that’s exactly what we spend most of our lives doing.
Personal achievement, career advancement, “keeping up with the Jonses” (or the Kardashians). We strive to be the “best,” look the “best,” live in the “best,” and have the “best,” not because Scripture commands it or Christ has modeled it, but because the world we live in demands it and has told us that we deserve it. We consume for ourselves most of what we receive and justify or rationalize it by claiming that we’re simply “enjoying the blessings of God.”
We fill our lives with an abundance of stuff and activities, thinking that this is what brings about the abundant life, but instead we’re left empty, tired, stressed out, and discontented. Then we turn away from those who are truly in need because we have little or nothing left to give, neither financially nor emotionally.
I seem to remember reading about another group of religious folk who lived their lives “enjoying the blessings of God.” What did Christ say about them? Oh yes, “truly I tell you, they have their reward.” Not a group I think I would want to be identified with. Would you?
Since her passing a month ago I’ve reflected quite a bit on the life of my Grandmother and the example she left for me. And I can’t seem to get away from the idea that somewhere in the not-too-distant-past we in the Church have gotten terribly off track when it comes to the “seek ye first” of Luke 12. I know I have.
So I challenge you – over the coming month read through Luke 12 and 1 Corinthians 13 each day. Reflect on what’s being said. Ponder its meaning for your life. Compare it to how you’ve been living up to now.
Can what was said of my Grandmother be said of you?
Anything need to change?
For those of you who started following my blog after my first entry, I hope you’ll be happy to see that I’m finally posting something new.
I hadn’t intended to take so long between entries, but as they say, life happens. While I had originally planned to make an entry every week or so, one week turned to two, two to four, four to eight, and so on. Before I knew it, months had passed.
So here I am again, finally. And hopefully, this long break will prove to be a good thing. But I guess you’ll be the judge of that.
Just so you know, though, God has been working on me, personally, during this time, challenging my thoughts and ideas, reshaping some of my attitudes, and refocusing my perspective once again. Wanting more than anything to be molded by Him into the person He’s always intended for me to be, I’ve tried to step back, let go, and let Him work.
He has been speaking. It remains to be seen how well I’ve been listening. But I have some things to say over the coming weeks. Things He’s been stirring in me. Difficult things. Yet, all centered in truth, drawn from scripture, and focused toward eternity. And though some of you may take offense and perhaps even stop reading (although I hope not), all that will be said is offered out of love.
The way I see it, it’s way past time that those who identify themselves by the name of Christ and claim to be part of God’s family, actually live like it. He has called us to do and be nothing less.
I invite you to join me over the next several weeks as we take a long, hard look at the person in your mirror and mine. If you were to take a quick peek, who do you imagine you’re likely to see staring back from the reflection? Will it be mostly you or Him?
That’s what I thought. So step back, open your heart, engage your mind and let’s get a new view for living.
Get A New View 