Thursday, May 30, 2019

What's in a Name?


Evangelical, Mainline, Conservative, Liberal, Methodist, Baptist, Adventist, American, Chinese—these are all terms that are commonly used to describe some segment of Christianity, and yet they may mean different things to different people. Lately it seems like there are dozens of articles comparing the beliefs and practices of evangelical Christians versus mainline Christians, yet often they don’t explain to the readers what they mean by those terms. I got tired of trying to remember who’s who, so I quit reading them.

The bigger problem, as I see it, is that we aren’t supposed to be dividing up the Body of Christ to begin with. The Apostle Paul wrote, “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all” (Ephesians 4:4-6 ESV). From God’s perspective there are Christians and non-Christians and that’s it. “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:12-13). Granted, there are different beliefs in some of the grey areas of Scripture and there are differences in polity and practice, but we are all one body.

Tony Evans comments in Horizontal Jesus:

“Even though we claim the same God and worship the same Lord, we have allowed differences in race, class, culture, preferences, priorities, platforms, and more to divide us. In doing so, we have reduced our cultural impact as the horizontal representatives of Jesus” (112).

“Keep in mind that we are not called to create unity but rather to preserve it. We don’t need to invent it—we just need to live in it. Unity with each other comes by God’s Spirit living in us… Unfortunately, though, too many of us align ourselves with preachers, politicians, or platforms more than we do with God’s Word” (117).

“If we want our Lord to show up with His powerful presence in the body of Christ, in our communities, and in our nation, one of the first things we need to realize is that Christ did not die for a denomination—He died for each one of us. Yes, preferences and platforms exist. However, we would be far more effective in influencing families, communities, and our culture with God’s kingdom principles based on His Word if we focused on our common purpose” (118).

“Unity is a greater preamble to the presentation of the gospel than anything else we could ever do” (122).

When the world sees only a fragmented and divisive church, what are they likely to assume about the faith we profess? If we are more concerned about our differences than about the Great Commission, is it any wonder our witness bears little fruit for the kingdom? When our social media posts reflect our politics more than our Savior, who are we expecting to convince? There are places and times for such discussions, but I believe they should be far less frequent and less public. We are ambassadors of Christ first and foremost (2 Cor. 5:20). How are we doing at representing Him?

“I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment” (1 Corinthians 1:10).

“I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in Me through their word, that they may all be one… so that the world may believe that You have sent Me” (John 17:20-21).



© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Thursday, May 23, 2019

Look to the Lord


William Shakespeare wrote in Sonnet 116, “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.” He wasn’t writing about God’s love, yet those words are more true of God than they are of any human love. David wrote, “For Your steadfast love is great to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the clouds” (Psalm 57:10 ESV). There are over one hundred references to God’s steadfast love in the book of Psalms alone, with 26 of those occurring in Psalm 136.

We all need to be reminded that God’s love does not change just because we sin or doubt or forget His Word. David prayed, “Remember Your mercy, O Lord, and Your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to Your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of Your goodness, O Lord!” (Psalm 25:6-7). It wasn’t that he had to remind God of His love and mercy, but that David himself needed that reminder.

George Herbert (1593-1633) was another poet and priest who gave words to our struggle to remember God’s love. One of his poems begins:

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
            Guilty of dust and sin.           
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
            From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
            If I lack’d anything.

He goes on to say he can’t look on God because of his shame, to which God replies, “And know you not Who bore the blame?” Love invites him to come sit at the table and enjoy the meal because it is God who provides both forgiveness and grace. As is often the case, I write what I need to hear for myself, but I’m sure we can all relate to that sense of unworthiness that makes us draw back from God when we’ve sinned. And yet, He is more than willing to welcome back His prodigal children.

Herbert’s poem has some parallels to Isaiah 55:

“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price… Incline your ear, and come to Me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, My steadfast, sure love for David…[Let] him return to the Lord, that He may have compassion on him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon” (55:1, 3, 7).

We cannot begin to deserve the forgiveness and love and many other blessings that God pours out on us. We cannot repay what God has done. Our role is simply to receive with gratitude. In many ways, that takes more humility than it would to perform some kind of penance. If we could do enough to offset the guilt of sin, then we might take pride in thinking we had somehow contributed to our salvation. But if it is a gift of God from beginning to end, we must be humble, powerless recipients. This way God gets all the glory for what He alone has done. “It is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8b-9). May we be quick to run back to the Father every time we realize we’ve wandered away!

“To You, I lift up my eyes, O You who are enthroned in the heavens!
Behold, as the eyes of the servants look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of the maidservant to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till He has mercy upon us” (Psalm 123:1-2).

“Give thanks to the God of heaven, for His steadfast love endures forever” (Psalm 136:26).



© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Friday, May 17, 2019

Come Along


Last week I wrote a bit about hospitality in the context of spiritual gifts. This week I’m reading Sam Allberry’s book 7 Myths about Singleness, and he makes several good comments about Christian family and how that relates to our responsibility for hospitality:

“We’re a body [Romans 12:4-5]. We belong to one another… We’re invested in one another, and therefore I need to know what the Christian life is like for you in your situation, and you need to know what it’s like for me in mine… [It] shows me that as a single person, I have a stake in the health of the marriages in my church family. And those who are married have a stake in the health of my singleness. It’s part of what belonging to one another involves” (15).

“We may well have been blessed by our biological, nuclear family… This is a precious gift and one that you have solemn responsibilities toward. But it is not your only kind of family, or the only set of people to whom you owe such a significant amount. If you’re a Christian, the fellowship to which you belong is your family too. And while that might feel like it creates a tension or competition, the opposite is meant to be the case. These two types of family are designed to be overlapping and interlocking in a way that helps each to flourish in a way that wouldn’t otherwise be the case” (69).

“Sometimes it’s actually not making a fuss over a visitor that can make them feel more special and at home. They’re not being given a specially vetted version of family life; they’re being included in the real deal, warts and all… Too often what we’re really doing is not hospitality but entertaining. We’re putting on a good show. We’re showing someone the Instagram version of our home life rather than the actual version of it. A sign that this is the case is that hospitality becomes infrequent and extravagant. But in the Bible, hospitality is opening up our real lives to others (often and especially the stranger) and inviting them in. You don’t technically need a physical space to invite people into… It is as much about doing life with others, wherever and however we happen to do it” (72).

“Show hospitality to one another without grumbling (1 Pet. 4:9)… Peter is not so much telling us to do a certain kind of thing but to be a certain kind of person: someone who is willing and eager to share life and home with others. It is even important enough to be a qualification for anyone in church leadership [1 Tim. 3:2-3]… I have seen people disqualified from church leadership because of drunkenness and marital infidelity, but I’ve never heard of hospitality even being considered in a would-be pastor” (73).

I appreciate the reminder that hospitality is not the same as entertaining. Entertaining is only one form of hospitality. Hospitality could just as easily take the form of inviting a friend to join you for lunch at Taco Bell, taking a walk together in the park, watching the kids’ sporting events together, or thousands of other examples. It’s more about sharing together in the routine things of life and faith than planning special events and extravagant dinners. 

We’ve been misled by some who teach that hospitality is a spiritual gift only exercised by a few. Rather it is commanded of all Christians to be welcoming of others and to truly love one another. The Greek word for hospitality literally translates as “loving strangers.” Yes, there are some people who are more gifted at planning for and hosting guests, but none of us are let off the hook for loving others because “I don’t have the gift.” All of us, married and single alike, would benefit from building friendships that simply share life together outside of the established schedule of the church.

“Let love be genuine… Love one another with brotherly affection… Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality… Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly…” (Romans 12:9-16 ESV).

“So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us” (1 Thessalonians 2:8).



© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Thursday, May 9, 2019

Just Be You


Some time back I read Rosaria Butterfield’s book The Gospel Comes with a House Key. It is one I would recommend as food for thought. However, from my own observations and from conversations I’ve had with others, it can come across as very guilt-inducing. Besides pastoring a church, she and her husband are foster parents, she homeschools, and their door is open basically 24-7 for anyone to drop by for a meal or conversation. If I were to do even a fraction of what she does, I would soon be hiding under my bed or moving to the most remote location I could find. Her gifts and methods are commendable—but they aren’t mine. That’s why I was encouraged when I read the following in Christine Hoover’s book From Good to Grace:

“I mentioned that I’m a pastor’s wife, and not just a pastor’s wife but a church-planting pastor’s wife. Who let her husband start a church in her living room. Who has people over for dinner. Who plans a menu ahead of time. Who karate-chops pillows. Perhaps you got stuck on that part because you’re not a person who has people in your home and you started imagining a meal far greater than anything I actually make, and you started feeling pretty unspiritual in comparison, which led to you beating yourself up or immediately making a list of people whom you should invite over.

“Or you’re on the other extreme, and you’ve already figured you’re going to stop reading because you don’t want to hear a list of things you should be doing from another goody-two-shoes pastor’s wife. But this is my point exactly. We are way too concerned with what other people are doing and trying to match or judge what they are doing. We are jumping ahead to a great question (What does God want from me?) but asking it of the wrong audience (other people) and skipping the gospel question entirely.

“The most important and life-giving thing we can do as followers of Christ is to consider what God wants for us as presented in the gospel and to ask the right questions of the right Person…”

God didn’t call me to be another Rosaria Butterfield or Christine Hoover. He called me to be His child, with the gifts and abilities and personality that He gave me. There are a lot of things people think I should do that I have no trouble declining. But the enemy can creep in with a vague sense of guilt about not doing enough or not doing the “right things,” whatever those may be. When I prayerfully seek God’s will, I don’t believe that He’s telling me to do more or different things, but rather to rest in His goodness and grace. Hoover comments,

“The gospel quiets the clamor and comparisons, the swirling online world, and the self-accusations. The gospel tells us to rest because Christ is enough, but it also leads us to respond in obedience when God asks things of us that are counter to what others and our own hearts tell us are important. The gospel shows us how to receive from God what we need in order to truly live and what we need to serve others with joy, sacrificial love, and power.”

Peer pressure never dies, it just takes new forms. We in the church can be very good at guilting people into doing things they aren’t gifted for. We could all try to exercise the gifts we admire in others, but we’d end up neglecting the very things God has called us to do. I don’t have to teach Sunday school or help with nursery or open my home to strangers, and I would not be happy trying to do those things. But I do have to write, and that is the most enjoyable and fulfilling thing I can imagine. Let’s stop feeling guilty for not being Super-Christians who can do everything that everyone wants. God made us different for His own perfect purposes.

“For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them…” (Romans 12:4-6 ESV).



© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Friday, April 26, 2019

Out of the Silence


Last week I started reading God on Mute: Engaging the Silence of Unanswered Prayer, by Pete Greig. I didn’t realize it was going to be timely reading, because he uses the Easter timeline as the structure for his chapters. Did you ever stop to wonder what happened on that silent Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday? What were the disciples thinking? What did they do? Did they pray, or were they too shell-shocked to even think? It must have seemed like all hope was lost. Greig writes:

“No one really talks about Holy Saturday yet if we stop and think about it, it’s where most of us live our lives. Holy Saturday is the no-man’s land between questions and answers, prayers and miracles. It’s where we wait—with a peculiar mixture of faith and despair—whenever God is silent or life doesn’t make sense.”

Sometimes it can feel like we are still stuck in that silent Saturday. God isn’t answering our prayers as we’d like, and we wonder if He really does hear or care. The challenge for us is how to hold onto hope and endure with patience until the day when every question is either answered or no longer relevant.

 “The Bible leaves us in no doubt at all that when God is silent, He is not absent from His people—even if that’s the way it feels. He is with us now as much as He ever was. He’s no less involved in our lives than He was when we could hear His voice so clearly and could sense the joy of His smile…

“Why can’t we wait with the mess and pain of Holy Saturday unresolved? …In our fear of unknowing, we leapfrog Holy Saturday and rush the resurrection. We race disconcerted to make meaning and find beauty where there simply is none. Yet.”

We try to comprehend things that don’t make sense because we simply don’t have all the facts. God has not given us all the details or explained His master plan for our lives. We don’t want to wait patiently. In Christ’s resurrection is our reason for hope. Because He was raised, we can trust the promises of Scripture that God hears and answers prayer in His perfect way and time.


“But such is the world we live in, no different now from the first Easter Saturday, the day of divine abandonment and absence. Yet is not all prayer designed for Easter Saturday, the product of confusion, emptiness, and grief? Prayer is desperation translated into daring — the risk of letting go of confidence, eloquence, and that ‘spirituality,’ so fashionable now but so seductive. To pray is to confess not the abundance but the exhaustion of one’s verbal, intellectual, and spiritual resources. It is surrender to one who prays for us when we have no prayers left… Prayer then, the sound of silence upon Easter Saturday and every day which reenacts it, is the last breath of our self-relinquishment, the freedom we give God at last to be God, gracious, holy, and creative” (464).

May we not rush ahead in the church calendar, but dwell in the truths of Easter: Jesus is alive; God is still sovereign; He knows our weakness and hears our prayers; we can trust Him to do what He deems best even if it doesn’t always make sense to us.

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Romans 8:26-27 ESV).



© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Friday, April 19, 2019

Fix Your Eyes


I’m in the midst of reading a couple books on prayer. In Pray Big: Learn to Pray Like an Apostle, Alistair Begg writes,
“All that matters may be brought before God, but what we bring before God is not always what matters most. When the eyes of our hearts are opened to our future, it changes our lives now—it reorders our priorities and our prayers. We pray less about the practical details of this life, and first and foremost about the spiritual realities of our eternal life” (29).
All too often we pray anemic prayers because we are distracted by the things of this world and we miss the things of eternity. That led me to think about what is most needed as churches gather together this Easter Sunday, perhaps with many visitors. The prayer I wrote in my journal included this: I pray that You will work in each of us to fix our eyes upon You as the author and perfecter of our faith... Let us not be distracted by words or music or flowers or people, but let us be captivated by Your glory.
After writing that down, I had to go back to Scripture to read the context of Hebrews 12:1-2 (NASB):
“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
When I’ve read those verses in the past, I’ve always had this mental image of a marathon runner nearing the finish line, with crowds of people on both sides. In fact, the “cloud of witnesses” has dominated the picture. But the whole point is that we would fix our eyes on Jesus as our motivation for endurance. While the crowd can be encouraging, our eternal security depends on Christ alone. Don’t get me wrong—our relationships within the Body of Christ are important and will continue throughout eternity, but people can also distract us from what God wants to do in our lives and in others at any given time.
Easter Sunday may be especially prone to that distraction. Most churches have extra decorations and special music, people tend to dress up more than usual, and there may be unusual events planned. The intent is (hopefully) good—we want people to engage with the message of the Gospel. But I wonder if sometimes our extra efforts actually distract people from focusing on God. It can appear that we are working to promote our church rather than fixing our eyes on Jesus.
Easter is justifiably a celebration of all that we have because of Jesus’ resurrection, both individually and corporately. Beautiful decorations and music are entirely appropriate. However, if I’m honest, I prefer the solemn simplicity of the Good Friday service at my church. There are fewer parts and, for me, fewer distractions from the One we are there to worship.
An Easter sermon by John Henry Newman comments,
“At Christmas we joy with the natural, unmixed joy of children, but at Easter our joy is highly wrought and refined in its character. It is not the spontaneous and inartificial outbreak which the news of Redemption might occasion, but it is thoughtful; it has a long history before it, and has run through a long course of feelings before it becomes what it is… Accordingly, Christmas Day is ushered in with a time of awful expectation only, but Easter Day with the long fast of Lent, and the rigours of the Holy Week just past: and it springs out and (as it were) is born of Good Friday.”
For those of us who come from church traditions that generally ignore Lent and may not think deeply about Holy Week, his comments may seem foreign to us. We can appear to jump into the celebration of Easter without experiencing the depths of Good Friday. The Easter Sundays that have meant the most to me were those that followed serious contemplation of the cross, Jesus’ death, and my sin that nailed Him there.
Let us not rush forward to Sunday’s celebration without living through the darkness of Friday and Saturday.
And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This He set aside, nailing it to the cross... Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 2:13-24, 3:2-3 ESV).
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Listen to Dennis Jernigan’s song, “It Was My Sin.”

© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Shalom



I’ve had a particular anxiety that has been plaguing me primarily on Saturdays for a few months. As I was tossing and turning last Friday night, the thought popped into my mind, “Shabbat shalom!” Not being Jewish, that’s not a thought that often comes to my mind. It is a traditional Jewish greeting meaning “Sabbath peace.” It did not escape my notice that the Sabbath begins at sundown Friday and continues through Saturday. It reminded me that the peace of God comes from the God who is Himself peace. As the Apostle Paul wrote in Philippians 4:6-9 (ESV):
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus… Practice these things and the God of peace will be with you.”
This Friday as the Jewish Passover begins, Christians will be observing Good Friday and remembering the crucifixion and burial of Jesus. The disciples, who had run from the garden of Gethsemane, likely did not think of this as a day of Sabbath peace. They were probably filled with both sorrow and anxiety as they mourned their Rabbi and wondered what the future held. Little did they know that the God of peace was doing a new thing.
“For He Himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in His flesh the dividing wall of hostility” (Ephesians 2:14).
 “And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, He has now reconciled in His body of flesh by His death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before Him” (Colossians 1:21-22).
Through the horrendous death of Jesus, whom we recognize as the true Messiah, shalom was made possible for all who will believe in Him. Biblical shalom doesn’t mean just a peaceful state of mind or a lack of conflict, but of wholeness and well-being. Only by being reconciled with God are we made both whole and holy. Our deepest need is fulfilled in Christ alone.
“Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it” (1 Thess. 5:23-24).
As we move through this Easter week, may we find shalom from the God of peace, whose love surpasses understanding.
“Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do His will, working in us that which is pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen” (Hebrews 13:20-21).
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Here is a short chorus that often comes to mind, “He Is Our Peace.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0dU5zcclRQ

© 2019 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.