Sorry for multiple posts of quotes. I promise I will get back to posting some original work relating to the abundant life soon. That being said, below is an excerpt from Wes Seeliger's book "Western Theology," with adaptations by Brennan Manning as found in his "Lion and Lamb: The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus," p.37ff
This absolutely speaks to my heart about following Jesus. I hope it speaks to your as well.
There are two views of life and two kinds of people. Some see life as a possession to be carefully guarded. They are SETTLERS. Others see life as a fantastic, wild, explosive gift. They are PIONEERS. The visible church is an outfit with an abundance of settlers and a few pioneers. The invisible church is the fellowship of pioneers. To no one's surprise there are two kinds of theology. Settler theology and pioneer theology. Settler theology is an attempt to answer all the questions, define and housebreak some sort of "Supreme Being," establish the status quo on Golden Tablets in cinemascope. Pioneer Theology is an attempt to talk about what it means to receive the strange gift of life and live! The pioneer sees theology as a wild adventure, complete with indians, saloon girls, and the haunting call of what is yet to be.
The Wild West offers a stage for picturing these two types of theology. Settlers and Pioneers use the same words but that is where it stops. To see what I mean--read on.
THE CHURCH
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--the church is the courthouse. It is the center of town life. The old stone structure dominates the town square. Its windows are small. This makes the thing easy to defend, but quite dark inside. Its doors are solid oak. No one lives there except pigeons and they, of course, are most unwelcome.
Within the thick, courthouse walls, records are kept, taxes collected, trials held for bad guys. The courthouse runs the town. It is the settler's symbol of law, order, stability, and most important--security, The mayor's office is on the top floor. His eagle eye scopes out the smallest details of town life.
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--the church is the covered wagon. It is a house on wheels--always on the move. No place is its home. The covered wagon is where the pioneers eat, sleep, fight, love, and die. It bears the marks of life and movement--it creaks, is scarred with arrows, bandaged with bailing wire. The covered wagon is always where the action is. It moves in on the future and doesn't bother to glorify its own ruts. The old wagon isn't comfortable, but the pioneers could care less. There is a new world to explore.
GOD
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--God is the mayor. The honorable Alpha O. Mega, chief executive of Settler City. He is a sight to behold--dressed like a dude from back East, lounging in an over-stuffed chair in his courthouse office. He keeps the blinds drawn. No one sees or knows him directly, but since there is order in the town who can deny he is there? The mayor is predictable and always on schedule.
The settlers fear the mayor but look to him to clear the payroll and keep things going. The mayor controls the courthouse which in turn runs the town. To maintain peace and quiet the mayor sends the sheriff to check on pioneers who ride into town.
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--God is the trail boss. He is rough and rugged-full of life. He chews tobacco, drinks straight whiskey.The trail boss lives, eats, sleeps, fights with his men. Their well being is his concern. Without him the wagon wouldn't move--the pioneers would become fat and lazy. Living as a free man would be impossible. The trail boss often gets down in the mud with the pioneers to help push the wagon which frequently gets stuck. He slugs the pioneers when they get soft and want to turn back. His fist is an expression of his concern.
JESUS
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--Jesus is the sheriff. He is the guy who is sent by the mayor to enforce the rules. He wears a white hat--drinks milk--outdraws the bad guys. He saves the settlers by offering security. The sheriff decides who is thrown in jail. There is a saying in town that goes like this--those who believe the mayor sent the sheriff and follow the rules won't stay in Boot Hill when it comes their time.
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--Jesus is the scout. He rides out ahead to find out which way the pioneers should go. He lives all the dangers of the trail. The scout suffers every hardship, is attacked by the Indians, feared by the settlers. Through his actions and words he shows the true spirit, intent, and concern of the trail boss. By looking at the scout, those on the trail learn what it really means to be a pioneer.
THE HOLY SPIRIT
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--the Holy Spirit is a saloon girl. Her job is to comfort the settlers. They come to her when they feel lonely or when life gets dull or dangerous. She tickles them under the chin and makes everything O.K. again. The saloon girl squeals to the sheriff when someone starts disturbing the peace. (Note to settlers: the whiskey served in Settler City Saloon is the non-spiritous kind.)
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--the Holy Spirit is the buffalo hunter. He rides along with the wagon train and furnishes fresh, raw meat for the pioneers. The buffalo hunter is a strange character--sort of a wild man. The pioneers never can tell what he will do next. He scares the hell out of the settlers. Every Sunday morning, when the settlers have their little ice cream party in the courthouse, the buffalo hunter sneaks up to one of the courthouse windows with his big black gun and fires a tremendous blast. Men jump, women scream, dogs bark. Chuckling to himself, the buffalo hunter rides back to the wagon train.
THE CHRISTIAN
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--the Christian is the settler. He fears the open, unknown frontier. He stays in good with the mayor and keeps out of the sheriff's way. He tends a small garden. "Safety First" is his motto. To him the courthouse is a symbol of security, peace, order, and happiness. He keeps his money in the bank. The banker is his best friend. He plays checkers in the restful shade of the oak trees lining the courthouse lawn. He never misses an ice cream party.
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--the Christian is the pioneer. He is a man of risk and daring--hungry for adventure, new life, the challenge of being on the trail. He is tough, rides hard, knows how to use a gun when necessary. The pioneer feels sorry for the town folks and tries to tell them about the joy and fulfillment of a life following the trail. He dies with his boots on.
THE CLERGYMAN IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--the clergyman is the bank teller. Within his vaults are locked the values of the town. He is suspicious of strangers. And why not? Look what he has to protect! The bank teller is a highly respected man in town. He has a gun but keeps it hidden behind his desk. He feels he and the sheriff have a lot in common. After all, they both protect the bank.
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--the clergyman is the cook. He doesn't furnish the meat--he just dishes up what the buffalo hunter provides. This is how he supports the movement of the wagon. He never confuses his job with that of the trail boss, scout or buffalo hunter. He sees himself as just another pioneer who has learned to cook. The cook's job is to help the pioneers pioneer.
THE BISHOP
IN SETTLER THEOLOGY--the bishop is the bank president. He rules the bank with an iron hand. He makes all the decisions, tells the tellers what to do, and upholds the image of the bank. The settlers must constantly be reassured of the safety of their values. The bank president watches the books like a hawk. Each day he examines all deposits and withdrawals. The bank president is responsible for receiving all new accounts. This is called "the laying on of hands."
IN PIONEER THEOLOGY--the bishop is the dishwasher. He does the chores so the cook can do his job. He supports the cook in every way possible. Together the cook and dishwasher plan the meals and cook the food provided by the buffalo hunter. They work as an interdependent team in all matters related to cooking. Humming while he works, the dishwasher keeps the coffeepot going for the pioneers. Though the dishwasher has an humble task he is not resentful. All pioneers realize that each man's job is equally important. In fact, in the strange ways of the pioneer community, he is greatest who serves most. (A bishop is the servant of the servants of God. If the servants of God are cooks, what else would a bishop be?)
In SETTLER THEOLOGY, faith is trusting in the safety of the twon: obeying the laws, keeping your nose clean, believing the mayor is in the courthouse. In PIONEER THEOLOGY, faith is the spirit of adventure. The readiness to move out. To risk everything on the trail. Obedience to the restless voice of the trail boss.
In SETTLER THEOLOLGY, sin is breaking one of the town's ordinances. In PIONEER THEOLOGY, sin is wanting to turn back.
In SETTLER THEOLOGY,salvation is living close to home and hanging around the courthouse. In PIONEER THEOLOGY, salvation is being more afraid of sterile town life than of death on the trail. The joy of the thought of another day to push on into the unkown. It is trusting the trail boss and following his scout while living on the meat provieded by the buffalo hunter.
The settleers and pioneer portray in cowboy movie language the people of the law and the people of the Spirit. In the time of the historical Jesus, the guardians of the ecclesiastical setup, the scribes and Pharisees and Saduces]es, had esconded themselves in the courthoyuse and ensaved themselves to the law. This not only enhanced their prestige in society, it also gave them a sense of security....Some men want to be slaves...Jesus wanted to liberate his people from the law--from all laws...
..If we are not experiencing what Paul calls "the glorilous freedom," then we must acknowledge that we are not fully under the sway of His Spirit
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
George MacDonald Sermon On Life
This isn't my typical kind of post, but below is a abridged version of a sermon from George MacDonald's Unspoken Sermons Second Series on the Abundant Life.
In a word, He came to supply all our lack-from the root outward; for what is it we need but more life? What does the infant need but more life? What does the bosom of his mother give him but life in abundance? What does the old man need, whose limbs are weak and whose pulse is low, but more of the life which seems ebbing from him? Weary with feebleness, he calls upon death, but in reality it is life he wants. It is but the encroaching death in him that desires death.
Never a cry went out after the opposite of life from any soul that knew what life is. Why does the poor, worn, out-worn suicide seek death? Is it not in reality to escape from death?-from the death of homelessness and hunger and cold; the death of failure, disappointment, and distraction; the death of the exhaustion of passion; the death of madness-of a household he cannot rule; the death of crime and fear of discovery? He seeks the darkness because it seems a refuge from the death which possesses him. He is a creature possessed by death; what he calls his life is but a dream full of horrible phantasms.
'More life!' is the unconscious prayer of all creation, groaning and travailing for the redemption of its lord, the son who is not yet a son. Is not the dumb cry to be read in the faces of some of the animals, in the look of some of the flowers, and in many an aspect of what we call Nature?
The life the Lord came to give us is a life exceeding that of the highest undivine man, by far more than the life of that man exceeds the life of the animal the least human. More and more of it is for each who will receive it, and to eternity. The Father has given to the Son to have life in himself; that life is our light. We know life only as light; it is the life in us that makes us see. All the growth of the Christian is the more and more life he is receiving. At first his religion may hardly be distinguishable from the mere prudent desire to save his soul; but at last he loses that very soul in the glory of love, and so saves it; self becomes but the cloud on which the white light of God divides into harmonies unspeakable.
Death can be the cure for nothing, the cure for everything must be life-that the ills which come with existence, are from its imperfection, not of itself-that what we need is more of it. We who are, have nothing to do with death; our relations are alone with life. The thing that can mourn can mourn only from lack; it cannot mourn because of being, but because of not enough being. We are vessels of life, not yet full of the wine of life; where the wine does not reach, there the clay cracks, and aches, and is distressed. Who would therefore pour out the wine that is there, instead of filling to the brim with more wine! All the being must partake of essential being; life must be assisted, upheld, comforted, every part, with life. Life is the law, the food, the necessity of life. Life is everything.
Let us in all the troubles of life remember-that our one lack is life-that what we need is more life-more of the life-making presence in us making us more, and more largely, alive. When most oppressed, when most weary of life, as our unbelief would phrase it, let us bethink ourselves that it is in truth the inroad and presence of death we are weary of. When most inclined to sleep, let us rouse ourselves to live. Of all things let us avoid the false refuge of a weary collapse, a hopeless yielding to things as they are. It is the life in us that is discontented; we need more of what is discontented, not more of the cause of its discontent. Discontent, I repeat, is the life in us that has not enough of itself, is not enough to itself, so calls for more. He has the victory who, in the midst of pain and weakness, cries out, not for death, not for the repose of forgetfulness, but for strength to fight; for more power, more consciousness of being, more God in him.
If we will but let our God and Father work his will with us, there can be no limit to his enlargement of our existence, to the flood of life with which he will overflow our consciousness. We have no conception of what life might be, of how vast the consciousness of which we could be made capable. Many can recall some moment in which life seemed richer and fuller than ever before; to some, such moments arrive mostly in dreams: shall soul, awake or asleep, infold a bliss greater than its Life, the living God, can seal, perpetuate, enlarge? Can the human twilight of a dream be capable of generating or holding a fuller life than the morning of divine activity? Surely God could at any moment give to a soul, by a word to that soul, by breathing afresh into the secret caves of its being, a sense of life before which the most exultant ecstasy of earthly triumph would pale to ashes! If ever sunlit, sail-crowded sea, under blue heaven flecked with wind-chased white, filled your soul as with a new gift of life, think what sense of existence must be yours, if he whose thought has but fringed its garment with the outburst of such a show, take his abode with you, and while thinking the gladness of a God inside your being, let you know and feel that he is carrying you as a father in his bosom!
There is nothing for man worthy to be called life, but the life eternal-God's life, that is, after his degree shared by the man made to be eternal also. For he is in the image of God, intended to partake of the life of the most high, to be alive as he is alive. Of this life the outcome and the light is righteousness, love, grace, truth; but the life itself is a thing that will not be defined, even as God will not be defined.
This life, this eternal life, consists for man in absolute oneness with God and all divine modes of being, oneness with every phase of right and harmony. It consists in a love as deep as it is universal, as conscious as it is unspeakable; a love that can no more be reasoned about than life itself-a love whose presence is its all-sufficing proof and justification, whose absence is an annihilating defect: he who has it not cannot believe in it: how should death believe in life, though all the birds of God are singing jubilant over the empty tomb! The delight of such a being, the splendour of a consciousness rushing from the wide open doors of the fountain of existence, the ecstasy of the spiritual sense into which the surge of life essential, immortal, increate, flows in silent fullness from the heart of hearts-what may it, what must it not be, in the great day of God and the individual soul!
In a word, He came to supply all our lack-from the root outward; for what is it we need but more life? What does the infant need but more life? What does the bosom of his mother give him but life in abundance? What does the old man need, whose limbs are weak and whose pulse is low, but more of the life which seems ebbing from him? Weary with feebleness, he calls upon death, but in reality it is life he wants. It is but the encroaching death in him that desires death.
Never a cry went out after the opposite of life from any soul that knew what life is. Why does the poor, worn, out-worn suicide seek death? Is it not in reality to escape from death?-from the death of homelessness and hunger and cold; the death of failure, disappointment, and distraction; the death of the exhaustion of passion; the death of madness-of a household he cannot rule; the death of crime and fear of discovery? He seeks the darkness because it seems a refuge from the death which possesses him. He is a creature possessed by death; what he calls his life is but a dream full of horrible phantasms.
'More life!' is the unconscious prayer of all creation, groaning and travailing for the redemption of its lord, the son who is not yet a son. Is not the dumb cry to be read in the faces of some of the animals, in the look of some of the flowers, and in many an aspect of what we call Nature?
The life the Lord came to give us is a life exceeding that of the highest undivine man, by far more than the life of that man exceeds the life of the animal the least human. More and more of it is for each who will receive it, and to eternity. The Father has given to the Son to have life in himself; that life is our light. We know life only as light; it is the life in us that makes us see. All the growth of the Christian is the more and more life he is receiving. At first his religion may hardly be distinguishable from the mere prudent desire to save his soul; but at last he loses that very soul in the glory of love, and so saves it; self becomes but the cloud on which the white light of God divides into harmonies unspeakable.
Death can be the cure for nothing, the cure for everything must be life-that the ills which come with existence, are from its imperfection, not of itself-that what we need is more of it. We who are, have nothing to do with death; our relations are alone with life. The thing that can mourn can mourn only from lack; it cannot mourn because of being, but because of not enough being. We are vessels of life, not yet full of the wine of life; where the wine does not reach, there the clay cracks, and aches, and is distressed. Who would therefore pour out the wine that is there, instead of filling to the brim with more wine! All the being must partake of essential being; life must be assisted, upheld, comforted, every part, with life. Life is the law, the food, the necessity of life. Life is everything.
Let us in all the troubles of life remember-that our one lack is life-that what we need is more life-more of the life-making presence in us making us more, and more largely, alive. When most oppressed, when most weary of life, as our unbelief would phrase it, let us bethink ourselves that it is in truth the inroad and presence of death we are weary of. When most inclined to sleep, let us rouse ourselves to live. Of all things let us avoid the false refuge of a weary collapse, a hopeless yielding to things as they are. It is the life in us that is discontented; we need more of what is discontented, not more of the cause of its discontent. Discontent, I repeat, is the life in us that has not enough of itself, is not enough to itself, so calls for more. He has the victory who, in the midst of pain and weakness, cries out, not for death, not for the repose of forgetfulness, but for strength to fight; for more power, more consciousness of being, more God in him.
If we will but let our God and Father work his will with us, there can be no limit to his enlargement of our existence, to the flood of life with which he will overflow our consciousness. We have no conception of what life might be, of how vast the consciousness of which we could be made capable. Many can recall some moment in which life seemed richer and fuller than ever before; to some, such moments arrive mostly in dreams: shall soul, awake or asleep, infold a bliss greater than its Life, the living God, can seal, perpetuate, enlarge? Can the human twilight of a dream be capable of generating or holding a fuller life than the morning of divine activity? Surely God could at any moment give to a soul, by a word to that soul, by breathing afresh into the secret caves of its being, a sense of life before which the most exultant ecstasy of earthly triumph would pale to ashes! If ever sunlit, sail-crowded sea, under blue heaven flecked with wind-chased white, filled your soul as with a new gift of life, think what sense of existence must be yours, if he whose thought has but fringed its garment with the outburst of such a show, take his abode with you, and while thinking the gladness of a God inside your being, let you know and feel that he is carrying you as a father in his bosom!
There is nothing for man worthy to be called life, but the life eternal-God's life, that is, after his degree shared by the man made to be eternal also. For he is in the image of God, intended to partake of the life of the most high, to be alive as he is alive. Of this life the outcome and the light is righteousness, love, grace, truth; but the life itself is a thing that will not be defined, even as God will not be defined.
This life, this eternal life, consists for man in absolute oneness with God and all divine modes of being, oneness with every phase of right and harmony. It consists in a love as deep as it is universal, as conscious as it is unspeakable; a love that can no more be reasoned about than life itself-a love whose presence is its all-sufficing proof and justification, whose absence is an annihilating defect: he who has it not cannot believe in it: how should death believe in life, though all the birds of God are singing jubilant over the empty tomb! The delight of such a being, the splendour of a consciousness rushing from the wide open doors of the fountain of existence, the ecstasy of the spiritual sense into which the surge of life essential, immortal, increate, flows in silent fullness from the heart of hearts-what may it, what must it not be, in the great day of God and the individual soul!
Friday, April 6, 2007
The Real Good News
A few years ago I was sitting on my back porch looking over the beautiful scenery that is the historic district of Elgin, Illinois reading a book that flipped my understanding of Jesus on its ear. It was as if I never knew him. I felt like I would probably feel if someone told me Santa Claus or the Great Pumpkin didn’t exist. It was like I was meeting Jesus for the first time all over again.
If I asked you to sum up the mission of Jesus in a sentence or two, what would you say? Seriously, don’t breeze by this. Stop reading for a moment and think about Jesus’ mission. If you had to sum it up in a sentence or two, what would you say?
Most of you probably said, “To die for our sins,” or “To pay the price for my sins, so that when I die I can go to heaven.” Or maybe you said, “The Messiah came as a substitutionary sacrifice to redeem man and transform our fallen natures to holiness to allow blessed access to Heaven.” If you said that last one give your brain the break that it probably needs from seminary right now and engage you heart.
If you asked 100 Christians to sum up the mission of Jesus I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that that ninety-five would essentially say Jesus came to forgive our sins so that we can go to heaven when we die. Was that you? There’s no shame if it was. You’re in good company, but boy howdy have I got some good news for you. (I’m serious this time.)
Jesus gives a whole other explanation of his mission. He said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) What did you say, Jesus? What was you mission? Why did you come? To give us life? Abundant life?
Jesus says His mission is to bring life to a people who didn’t have it. He didn’t say, “I came that once they die they may to go heaven and begin eternal life.” He came to bring you life, and the real good news, my friend, is that eternal life doesn’t wait until heaven to start.
2 Corinthians 5:17 says that, “Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation, the old has gone and the new has come.” Notice the tense Paul uses. He didn’t write, “Anyone who is in Christ will be a new creation when they die, the old will go and the new will come in heaven.” He understood that Jesus intends for us to have abundant life now, beginning the moment we take Him as Messiah.
Jesus didn’t die so that we can experience eternal life after an earthly death. He died so we can experience eternal life, period. If it was only about atonement we would celebrate Good Friday as the key holiday on the Christian calendar, the day our debt was paid. But that’s not our most important holiday. That right is reserved for Easter, the day Jesus demonstrated LIFE, not death!
Too many of us hold the idea that eternal life begins once we die, that our salvation is nothing more than glorified fire insurance. Too many of us live with our bags packed, just waiting for that day when our eternal, abundant life can begin.
Oh of course Good Friday is necessary, but it is not the end. Mourn this Friday in the knowledge that our Messiah had to suffer an excruciating death for my sins and yours. But celebrate this Easter Sunday that after Jesus died to pay for our sin, He rose from the dead proving that not even death can overcome the abundant life He brings.
If I asked you to sum up the mission of Jesus in a sentence or two, what would you say? Seriously, don’t breeze by this. Stop reading for a moment and think about Jesus’ mission. If you had to sum it up in a sentence or two, what would you say?
Most of you probably said, “To die for our sins,” or “To pay the price for my sins, so that when I die I can go to heaven.” Or maybe you said, “The Messiah came as a substitutionary sacrifice to redeem man and transform our fallen natures to holiness to allow blessed access to Heaven.” If you said that last one give your brain the break that it probably needs from seminary right now and engage you heart.
If you asked 100 Christians to sum up the mission of Jesus I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that that ninety-five would essentially say Jesus came to forgive our sins so that we can go to heaven when we die. Was that you? There’s no shame if it was. You’re in good company, but boy howdy have I got some good news for you. (I’m serious this time.)
Jesus gives a whole other explanation of his mission. He said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) What did you say, Jesus? What was you mission? Why did you come? To give us life? Abundant life?
Jesus says His mission is to bring life to a people who didn’t have it. He didn’t say, “I came that once they die they may to go heaven and begin eternal life.” He came to bring you life, and the real good news, my friend, is that eternal life doesn’t wait until heaven to start.
2 Corinthians 5:17 says that, “Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation, the old has gone and the new has come.” Notice the tense Paul uses. He didn’t write, “Anyone who is in Christ will be a new creation when they die, the old will go and the new will come in heaven.” He understood that Jesus intends for us to have abundant life now, beginning the moment we take Him as Messiah.
Jesus didn’t die so that we can experience eternal life after an earthly death. He died so we can experience eternal life, period. If it was only about atonement we would celebrate Good Friday as the key holiday on the Christian calendar, the day our debt was paid. But that’s not our most important holiday. That right is reserved for Easter, the day Jesus demonstrated LIFE, not death!
Too many of us hold the idea that eternal life begins once we die, that our salvation is nothing more than glorified fire insurance. Too many of us live with our bags packed, just waiting for that day when our eternal, abundant life can begin.
Oh of course Good Friday is necessary, but it is not the end. Mourn this Friday in the knowledge that our Messiah had to suffer an excruciating death for my sins and yours. But celebrate this Easter Sunday that after Jesus died to pay for our sin, He rose from the dead proving that not even death can overcome the abundant life He brings.
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