Well…I decided to move some of my main content in writing to substack. Not that there won’t continually be posts and updates on this site, but feel that substack is a bit easier for me to navigate at the moment.
Therefore, if you want to subscribe to my substack, then please do so. You can do so by clicking HERE.
My goal is to put content out each Friday so hope you will subscribe and interact!!!
C.S. Lewis writes in A Preface to Paradise Lost that “the first qualification for judging any piece of workmanship from a corkscrew to a cathedral is to know what it is—what it was intended to do and how it is meant to be used.” We do well therefore, to go back and carefully read the “In the beginning” of Genesis 1 and 2. I feel we commit a fatal error when we hastily read through the beginning words of Scripture. And we commit an even greater mistake when we read them through the lens of modern day science instead of the poetic narrative in which they are written. Thankfully, Carmen Joy Imes, in her book Being God’s Image: Why Creation Matters, pulls us back to the creation story so that we can live accordingly in the now of today in preparation for the new creation to come.
It doesn’t take a Ph.D. for one to experience the reality that we as humanity have an identity problem. Even church folk struggle. True, we as Christ-followers are told we are created in the image of God, but what does that mean? Personally, I’m not sure I really became aware of all the ramifications of the Imago Dei until a few years ago. Who knows why it escaped me? Even as one who has a couple of seminary degrees, this most important theological truth was never given an opportunity to take root.
Today, I have a much better grasp of what it means to be in the image of God. But perhaps if Imess’s most accessible book were available “back in the day,” I might have understood sooner that we as male and female are created for relationship with God and each other to reflect God’s glory as we work toward making this earth as it is in Heaven. Did you notice the word “work?” Yes, we have jobs! And it’s an important part of being in God’s image. Imes writes, “From the beginning, our human vocation had to do with the cultivation and care of creation, making the rest of the earth like Eden. We neglect [this] to our own peril, and that of our children” (38).
Imes doesn’t just spend all her words on exegeting Genesis 1 and 2, however. These beginning verses in Genesis serve as the launching pad for her entire book. She begins by walking her readers through the Bible story to show how being in God’s image manifests itself throughout Scripture. From Genesis 3, where sin enters the scene yet “humanity retains its identity as God’s image in spite of rebellion and punishment” (66), to Revelation, where all creation is restored and we are once again set right to rule and steward the creation in holiness, being God’s image is at the core.
Several things stand out to me about Being God’s Image. First, Imes is an Old Testament scholar. This means that her work is full of nuggets of Biblical exegesis that are there for the mining. For example, in chapter 6, Imes has an excursus on Ecclesiastes on whether life is really meaningless as implied by its beginning verses. Naturally life has meaning, so what is the teacher in Ecclesiastes trying to say? For Imes, there exists a better translation for the word “meaningless.” She contends that it should be interpreted as “vapor.” In that understanding, it’s not that life does not have meaning, it is just beyond our grasp to understand. She writes that it’s like the man who wants to retire at fifty and so he worked all the overtime he could while his children were young only to see them leave when he retired. That’s vapor. “When our eyes are always on the future, we miss the joy that’s right under our nose,” writes Imes (98).
Another thing that grabbed my attention in Imes’s book is the subtitle: Why Creation Still Matters. Though the idea of the importance of creation exists throughout, it’s the final chapter in which she puts an exclamation point on the subject. In reading it, I very much resonated with her experiences concerning the rapture. I too grew up with the idea that Jesus is going to rescue his followers from this sinking ship we call earth before it is utterly destroyed. But this is a dangerous belief according to Imes. “If I believe my destiny is elsewhere,” she writes, “why invest in this planet’s long term health? Why spend time building businesses and schools and societies here? Why create anything at all? Why not just wait things out?” (169) The truth is that God is not abandoning his creation. As already mentioned, our work in making this earth as it is in Heaven is vital to our being in God’s image. This is true for the present and the future.
And finally, I found what Imes writes of Jesus regarding the image of God to be of utmost and profound importance. She writes: “Jesus is not the image of God because he is God. Jesus is the image of God because he is human.” In other words, “Jesus is and does what humans were meant to be and do” (110). If you want to know what it looks like to live in the image of God, look to Jesus. Consider how he performs acts of justice for those who have no voice. Consider how he brings healing to those on the margins. And consider how he selflessly gives of himself in love.
Being God’s Image: Why Creation Still Mattersis a book of good news. Imes desires for her readers to dive deep into understanding and embracing a life lived in the image of God. To do so is to find purpose, identity and joy. But this book is also a book of challenges. It will cause you to ask how you see and treat those different from you. It will push you to act upon the truth that all people, regardless of race or disability or sex are created in the image of God. And it will make you think about how we steward the creation that God made and gave to us so that it flourishes.
I hope many pick up a copy of this book and digest its contents. No doubt for some it will challenge long held interpretations of Scripture, but such interpretations need to be challenged. We need to be awakened to understand work, recreation, rest, worship, ministry and mission all through the lens of being created in the image of God. Thankfully Imes helps us to do so as she proclaims that “this world is not a failed experiment or a temporary staging ground for eternity. God called the world very good. In the midst of our suffering and disillusionment, God invited us to pray honestly, to let go of our own need to understand everything, to trust him, and to learn to enjoy the journey” (184).
No one reads a book in a vacuum. Or at least I don’t. Books are always read and digested in the midst of living life. This past week for me entailed being a part of a roundtable group of pastors/church staff in which my role was to lead in a discussion of spiritual formation. One of the specifics of personal growth of which I wanted to dialogue about concerned suffering and pain. In other words, how do days of difficulty shape us? How can/does God use pain to mold us into the people he wants us to become?
What took place in this roundtable discussion was not what I expected. When these folks were asked to talk about their transforming times of anxiety and hurt, what came to the surface was their personal agony related to a former church staff experience. And in each occurrence, the root of the distress was soiled in the misuse of power and authority. So here I was, listening to these stories of toxicity in the church while at the same time reading Scot McKnight’s and Laura Barringer’s new book Pivot: The Priorities, Practices, and Powers That Can Transform Your Church into a Tov Culture. It was almost as if this group of pastors/staff were quoting directly from Pivot and its examples of toxicity found in churches.
But it’s not just the context of this roundtable discussion from which I read Pivot. What has continued to be swirling in my head for quite some time are the words from Russell Moore. Moore, who is currently the editor-in-chief for Christianity Today, has for some time commented that the reason that there is such a rise of the “nones” and “dones” is not because they reject Jesus, but because they think we as churchgoers do. They see churches embodying the same harmful effects of power that they encounter within the American empire in which they live and work.
So with the thoughts of Moore swirling in my mind along with the stories of these pastors, I became angry, frustrated, and broken. What is becoming of the church? Now I don’t for any second believe that all churches are toxic. I know there are healthy bodies of Christ throughout our country. Yet I still hear too many stories of church cultures which are poisonous. Something has to change. McKnight and Barringer agree. They also have encountered toxicity in churches first hand. And thankfully, they have given voice and guidance to the transformation that is needed.
Pivot is described as a “practical guide to help you build a culture in your church or organization that resists abuse and cultivates goodness.” For the most part, it is a sequel to A Church Called Tov: Forming a Goodness Culture That Resists Abuses of Power and Promotes Healing which was released in 2020. At its heart this book addresses the need for pastors along with the church as a whole to grow beyond unhealthy business models and consumeristic tendencies that have taken root in today’s church culture. It is a book which I feel can help the church to become a place of attractive Christoformity that our neighborhoods so desperately need.
One might think that it’s only those tied up in a toxic church environment who need to read this book. Such is not the case. No church or organization is immune from the harmful tendencies mentioned by McKnight and Barringer. It could be easy to read Pivot while pointing fingers at the church across the street. But for it to produce the goodness needed in churches today, it must be read and discussed as a mirror to one’s own soul, ministry, church or organization. Thankfully, the questions which are written at the end of each chapter along with the “Tov Tool” at the back of the book make such personal and organizational reflections possible.
There is quite a bit of information packed into Pivot. As one might expect, McKnight and Barringer have done their homework. But I feel there are two main points that surface throughout the book that must be taken to heart. The first is that for a church or organization to become one of tov, a deep inspection must be made. McKnight writes that “the health of the church depends upon the condition of its ‘soil’” (20). In other words, new programs or vision statements won’t cut it. Those are surface issues. Deeper plowing must be sought. “Transforming a culture requires arduous, often painful discovery,” writes McKnight. “It takes a willingness to learn why the tree isn’t producing blossoms or why the fruit is rotten or why the blossoms are an unexpected color” (25).
Second, developing a tov culture takes work. Specifically, it is a work of patience. “Most cultural rebirths take seven years,” writes McKnight. “If you cut corners and try to rush it, you will pay” (126). To plow deep and to create good soil is not an overnight venture. Nor is it pain free. The road to tov is paved with suffering and opposition. “One can expect resistance to culture transformation because deep-rooted change disrupts homeostasis and creates disequilibrium, leading to disorientation,” mentions McKnight. “No matter how toxic the culture may be, people will turn to homeostasis,” that is, people will continue with what’s comfortable and familiar regardless of how unhealthy that might be (27).
Regardless of the pain and difficulty changing a culture might be, McKnight and Barringer, along with others they cite in Pivot, believe it is worth it. And I would go so far as to write that they not only believe it is worth it, but that it is imperative that churches make such a journey. McKnight and Barringer conclude with the challenge “to make character formation, both for individuals and the church as a culture, the most important mission of your local church” ( 201). I hope we take their challenge seriously. And to start, regardless of where your church or organization might be on the toxicity scale, I encourage you to make the first step in your mission of Christlike transformation to wrestle your way through Pivot. Grace and peace to you as you do.
When I’m looking at a book, it’s funny how many times the subtitle really grabs my attention. And this is no less true with Joining Jesus: Ordinary People at the Edges of the Church by Moses Chung and Christopher Meehan. Ordinary people. How many times do we feel the need to be extraordinary? Being ordinary doesn’t cut it. No one notices ordinary. Ordinary doesn’t make the nightly news.
And the “Edges of the Church?” Just reading the title at face value, I picture those who don’t quite make it in. Or perhaps it’s those who feel as though they don’t belong. In some people’s viewpoint, these are the folks that are not necessarily church material (whatever that means). They don’t really mix well with the general religious population. Too needy. Their problems are not as refined as our problems.
Yet for Chung and Meehan, it’s those on the margins and those who possibly feel trapped in their everydayness in which Jesus takes up residence. And it’s these type of folks whom God uses to be the salt and light of the world. It seems so counterintuitive, yet time and time again in Joining Jesus, the words of Paul to the church in Corinth are embodied. Paul writes: “Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (1 Cor 1:26-27)
What I find intriguing about Joining Jesus is that it is a history, a sketch of a Luke 10 vision, and a series of eyewitness accounts of God moving throughout North America all rolled into one collection. Chung and Meehan share the work of the Christian Reformed Church’s mission to North America for the past 25 years. In doing so, they continue the story of their previous book entitled Flourishing in the Land: A Hundred-Year History of the Christian Reformed Missions in North America, written in 1996.
But as mentioned, Joining Jesus is more than a history. It is also an embodied interpretation of Jesus’s commissioning of his disciples in Luke 10. Each chapter lays out a verse or two from Luke 10 that guides the reader in viewing each mission story through the lens of Jesus’s empowering and sending of his disciples. But if I were to cite a key element understood by Chung and Meehan in CRC’s mission success as it relates to Luke 10, it would have to be becoming an incarnational neighbor. “According to Luke 10,” writes Chung and Meehan, “a neighbor is someone who promotes peace and joins in learning what God is doing. This is a posture of being ‘with’ and not doing ministry ‘for.’ It is hearing—really setting ourselves aside to listen to the stories of those with whom we are connected, essentially with our neighbors” (48).
Most importantly in reading Joining Jesus however, is that this history of the CRC mission is told through the use of story. As you read, it’s as if you travel all over North America and hear from those in the trenches of ministry. From college students in Seattle to Native Americans in New Mexico, Chung and Meehan interview a variety of folks allowing their stories to communicate how God is working throughout North America. And as the subtitle indicates, this work is accomplished by the ordinary with those who are not only on the edges of church, but oftentimes, those on the edges of society as well.
Personally, it is the stories from those on the field that make this book worth the read. Reading the story of Momma T, a frequent visitor to a small church in Detroit, Michigan, barging into the Bible study and shouting, “I need to hear Galatians today,” pushes me to rethink what it is for me to study the Bible. Momma T’s brother is trapped in an abusive situation in which his daughter’s ex-boyfriend, a former boxer, keeps storming into their apartment and abusing him, his daughter, and even his daughter’s new baby. So what does Momma T want in the midst of feeling trapped because she can’t seem to help her brother? She wants some Galatians.
But it’s not just the stories that give value to Joining Jesus. It’s also the wisdom from those who are walking with the Momma T’s. It’s the missiological insights from the faithful who are present day-in and day-out to the communities around them. Betsy Turnbull, who as a church planter with her husband, found that her child’s preschool playground became its own mission field. “These connections and conversations, and chances for discipleship,” she says, “happen in random places” (43). Also, Pastor Albert Chu, whose church continues to reach out to the large population of Chinese in Vancouver, Canada, expresses how, much like Betsy, “Physical presence is an important thing. We have to be always asking what we can do with the spaces we inhabit to be a blessing to our community” (140).
One might conclude that reading such a book as Joining Jesus might point one to new strategies for mission. In some ways, this might be true. But the heart of this history is not necessarily about what works today, but what has always worked. And as Chung and Meehan point out, the early church which “met together, supported one another, broke bread together, and went from place to place and shared their stories” is still what is needed to build the Kingdom (139). I find this both refreshing and convicting. Refreshing because of its simplicity. Convicting because of how we sometimes complicate God’s mission given to us by our over-programming. Yet the truth remains that God calls us who are ordinary to go to those who are on the edges. And as we do, as the stories found in Joining Jesus tell us, we might just find Jesus!
I believe that we as Christ-followers need to bless the world with everything we have! And what I mean by that is we must people who “bestow good of any kind.” Now I don’t think this is earth shattering news to us. But what I wonder is, are we doing it? Are we people who are gracious, kind, loving, joyful, patient, generous and caring?
Years ago, I was visiting with a college student (not hard for me since I work with them) who was telling me how wait staff at restaurants hate Sundays. Since he was a waiter himself, I asked him why? He said, “It’s because the tips are the worst and the customers are the rudest!” And by the way, I’m not talking about some restaurant in some pagan part of the world. I’m talking about Bible-belt Texas where most of the customers are those who just left Sunday morning worship. Now true, it could have just been this one restaurant in this one town, but regardless, this should not be! Sunday lunch should be the time when every waiter and waitress want to work because the tips are so great and because the times with the customers are so encouraging.
Jesus told us that we are the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world” (Matthew 5:13-14). I know there are a lot of meanings attached with these metaphors, but I believe that “doing good to others” is involved. How do we show the world the goodness of our God? Is it not by us blessing the lives of others? Does not “loving our neighbor as ourself” (Matthew 22:39) show those around us that God is a God of love?
I believe that if we are going to “make disciples of all nations,” we are going to have to be a people who bless others. For as we “do good” to those around us, we make the Christian life desirable. Madeleine L’Engle writes, “We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”
We must be the ones whose manners at the check out line and whose attitude during a lengthy wait at the drive-thru exhibit an unhurried kindness. Our lives must be lived for the “flourishing” of others, not personal gain. The quote “leave everything better than you found it” should also apply to the people we encounter as well. For as we do, we show the world the truth about the God we worship and the beauty of a life who follows him.
To follow Jesus involves the cross. I wrote a bit about this last week (though by no means did I exhaust the topic). In that discussion, I leaned toward understanding “taking up one’s cross” as pledging our allegiance to Christ. It is breaking ties with the systems of this world, specifically its power structures, and following Jesus and the ways of his kingdom.
As a result of this separation from the powers that be, conflict will ensue. The world will, in some sense, crucify you. In the Roman world, to take up your cross meant that you went against Rome. This is why you were being executed and why you would lose everything. Those condemned to death by crucifixion forfeited their estates and were even denied burial. So when Jesus is telling his disciples, and us, to take up our cross, he is saying that to go against the world could most likely result in suffering.
Once again, it must be mentioned that we don’t seek suffering. We seek Jesus! But we shouldn’t be surprised when suffering comes. In fact, Peter writes that we need to be prepared for it (1 Peter 4:1). Nor should we view suffering negatively. One of the great paradoxes of Scripture is that we gain life by giving ours away. True joy and suffering are linked together. This is not how we are accustomed to thinking.
What I want to mention briefly in this short post however, is not so much the suffering that comes from “taking a stand” for the gospel, such as losing a job or being ridiculed for believing in Jesus (I realize these are minor things compared to some parts of our world). What I want us to grasp is that part of our suffering, if not the majority of it, is for the sake of those around us.
God’s mission is one of rescue. And his followers, who have now been rescued themselves, are now a part of this mission. In fact, Paul writes to the church in Corinth, so we are ambassadors who represent Christ. God is negotiating with you through us. We beg you as Christ’s representatives, “Be reconciled to God!” (2 Cor. 5:20).
As Christ-followers who are his ambassadors on this earth, we live for His namesake as we make him known. And how do we make him known? Well, we obviously develop conversations about the gospel with those around us. But as Christ’s representatives, we do more than just share information. We serve. We listen. We give. We sacrifice. We love. And we do so to make Christ fully known. We model the cross of which Jesus gave of himself for our sakes (see 2 Cor. 5:21) Therefore, we also give of ourselves. And we do so to those around us
So what does this look like? Well, for some of us, this means spending time listening to a colleague whom no one else in your workplace seems to care about. It could also mean that you stick with your church though many are leaving due to a few struggles over who the next pastor should be. Though there are plenty more examples like these above, I hope you notice that these are not necessarily the “big things” we often think about when we think about sacrificing and serving others. And yet what if more people lived out the so-called “smaller” sacrifices in life?
So let’s “deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Jesus.” For some this might mean you actually lose your life or job. For most of us however, this might just mean you lose your reputation as you begin caring for “those neighbors” in the neighborhood.
When Jesus was talking to his disciples about who he was and what was going to take place during his final days in Jerusalem, Peter couldn’t understand it. “Die? Messiah? You are the victor! You’ve got this wrong.” But Jesus didn’t have it wrong. The cross awaited him. And not only did the cross await him, he told his disciples that if they were going to follow him, they would have to “deny themselves and take up their cross” as well (see Mark 8:27-38).
Following Jesus involves a cross. What this means is that our allegiance is to him and him alone. And as a result, suffering by the hands of this world will ensue. In fact, Jesus actually promised it (John 16:33). And Paul told Timothy he could count on it (2 Timothy 3:12). David Garland in his commentary on 1 Corinthians reminds us that “the Christian life is not a fast track to glory, but a slow arduous path that takes one through suffering.”
Now taking up your cross doesn’t mean you seek suffering and persecution. It means that as you follow Jesus, your life is bound up in sacrificial living for the sake of God’s mission in the world. Will this sometime involve pain and heartache? Yes! Might it be dangerous? Yes! Will you be mocked? Possibly! Will some see your commitment to Jesus a bit silly and prudish? Most likely. Will the pressure to give up come knocking at your door? Definitely! But keep going! Keep following!
The funny thing about all of this is that picking up our cross and denying ourselves is really the path to life. It’s the paradoxical nature of the Christian life. You want to be great? Become a servant. You want to be first? Get in the back of the line. You want to save your life? Then give it away for what good is it to gain the whole world and yet lose your soul (Luke 9:24-26).
I’ll have to admit, this is hard for me to comprehend. I’ve been so conditioned by our “avoid pain at all costs” world that to think of life being found by sacrificing it sounds a bit ludicrous. You might feel the same. If you do, then like me, you will do well to continue to meditate upon the economy of God.
To start, just read through the Beatitudes in Matthew 5. Blessed are the poor in spirt. Blessed are those who mourn. And of course, let’s not forget the last verses: Blessed are you when others revile you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you (Matt. 5:11-12).
Now once again, I don’t believe that we as Christ followers go looking for persecution. We are to be peacemakers, not those that stir up senseless trouble. Nor do I believe that if you are not being persecuted that you are spiritually inferior. What I think is at the heart of taking up your cross is that we as Christ-Followers must do just that…follow Christ. This might mean that you do in fact face serious difficulty and persecution. But for many of us, this means that we give our lives for others in Christian service.
Jesus, while on the cross, was being mocked by the the rulers and soldiers saying to him, “If you are the king of the Jews, then save yourself!” Even one of the criminals crucified next to him said, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:35-39). But Jesus denied himself and took up his cross. His sacrifice brought life. And that is what it means for us to follow Jesus! Save ourselves? Yes! But we do so by giving our lives away in loving our neighbor as ourselves.
Though first written in 1980, Eugene’s Peterson’s words still ring true today…
Religion in our time has been captured by the tourist mindset. Religion is understood as a visit to an attractive site to be made when we have adequate leisure. For some it is a weekly jaunt to church; for others, occasional visits to special services. Some, with a bent for religious entertainment and sacred diversion, plan their lives around special events like retreats, rallies, and conferences. We go to see a new personality, to hear a new truth, to get a new experience and so somehow expand our otherwise humdrum lives. The religious life is defined as the latest and newest: Zen, faith healing, human potential, parapsychology, successful living, choreography in the chancel, Armageddon. We’ll try anything–until something else comes along.