Favoritism Toward All

Any World Cup fan will argue that a certain amount of team favoritism is good for adrenaline and vuvuzela sales. But as it concerns wealth and power, the church has an historic abhorrence and a checkered love affair with favoriism as it concerns the rich and powerful.

Before Constantine brought the church into the halls of power there was a good deal of caution exercised when it came to dealing with people of fame and fortune. A third century document on church order, the Didascalia Apostolorum, forbade Bishops from interrupting the reading of the word during a service in order to greet a person “honored by the world.” The same document goes on to exhort Bishops to get up and offer their own seat should a poor man or woman enter the congregation. It is this extreme vigilance regarding how we treat the rich and famous in comparison to how we treat the economically handicapped (I would add the socially, mentally and physically handicapped as well) which the church has so often lost sight of.
It’s not that the materially poor, mentally ill, or socially awkward people aren’t allowed in Christian gatherings (though there are some places where this is the case). It’s really that we generally tend to grant greater attention and privilege to those already privileged by their good looks, their social adeptness, or their material wealth. James calls this kind of favoritism “evil” (Jas. 2:1-13). It supports the caste system of the world where power tends to concentrate and advantage of the powerful often at the expense of the majority of humanity which exists on less than $3 per day and has almost no voice in global systems.
I am as challenged as anyone in the area of favoritism. Though I think I do pretty well in spending time with those whom others tend to ignore (I was one of those awkward, ignored kids in Jr. High and High School). There are, however, other areas where I give special attention to those most like me and struggle to overcome an attitude of judgment regarding people unlike me.
Case and point: I’m probably about as much a pacifist as I feel I can be given the reality of evil in a fallen world. There are times when force may be needed to protect the weak. Nonetheless, I have some pretty specific convictions about this present US (along with other country's) military engagement in the Middle East – a war soon to become America’s longest.
As I boarded a flight after a long trip I relished the fact that the seat next to me was empty. Just as they were closing the boarding door a large guy in combat fatigues got on. I could see he had a seat further to the back because he kept looking down the aisle toward the back of the plane and then at his boarding pass. Seeing no one next to me, and since he was the last person on board, he plopped down in the empty seat.
I scrunched against the window, a little “put out” that I would no longer have space to spread out after a long journey. Then I began to wonder what it must be like to take another human being’s life – to violate the call of Christ never to repay evil for evil and to love your enemy. I began to swell with some distain for this stranger whom I knew nothing about. This was a form of dis-favoritism. If an Anabatist had sat next to me (though I doubt I would have known by looking at them) I likely would have lit up in conversation and been glad to share the space with someone who thought more like me.
As we descended to land at Madison’s Dane County Regional Airport, the soldier pointed to the cross tattoo on the inside of my right wrist.
“Can I ask about your cross?” He said.
“Well,” I replied, “When Jesus was raised from the dead,” … which, by the way, is an interesting way to begin an answer to any question … “he retained the marks of his crucifixion. I figured that since he marked himself for all eternity out of love for me, that I could mark myself in this life out of love for him.”
The soldier pressed his imposing figure closer to me and held his hand out with an enormous smile.
“Praise God!” He said. “I’m a Chaplain in the US Army. Let me tell you; you hear about foxhole conversions – well it’s true. So many men are finding Jesus in the Army. I don’t even know how much of a Christian I was until my faith was tested like this.”
I was caught in my arrogance and judgment. My views on war and violence have not changed, but my attitude of favoring some while dis-favoring others took a hit that day. We simply cannot afford to be led by our broken and arrogant tendencies to distance ourselves from some people based on fairly arbitrary criteria while drawing near to others (in this regard I recommend Chris Heuertz and Christine Pole’s book Friendship at the Margins).  God’s favor is so much bigger than my narrow grid of acceptability.
If we must show favoritism, let’s at least show favoritism to everyone equally.

Worshipping Him in the Great Reversal

As you can tell by the last several posts I have lately been impressed with the expansiveness and earthiness of Christ's governance. He has come, at least in part, to have rulership in the here and now. The reign of Christ is intimately personal and it is immeasurably global - both today and escatalogically. His reign is individual, social, economic and political. We would like to limit him to the sphere of the "me" or perhaps extend his reign as far as the Christian community. But Jesus must have the supremacy over all things, including all the ways in which humans govern one another, over how the poor are treated, over the ways in which we generate wealth, over corrections facilities, over judicial systems, over waste and sanitation, and over any way humans can manipulate the environment. And talk about universal health care - the Greek word for "save" (sodezo) is used on occasion for "heal," or "to be made whole." He came to save-heal-make whole the entire human family: physically, spiritually and emotionally.

So if his kingdom is to come on earth now, what of Jesus' words to Pilate, "My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be handed over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not of this realm" (John 18:36). There are times when the Greek word "cosmos" or “world” is referring to the ways of this world, or in the vernacular we might say "the worldly," rather than to planet earth and its people. In essence Jesus is saying in this passage, "My kingdom is not worldly. If it were, my servants would use violence just like people in this realm do. But my kingdom doesn't work that way."
Jesus' desire, no ... more than that ... his every intention, is to have supremacy over all things in this world (Col. 1:18) both now and forever. This includes me as an individual as well as British Petroleum, or the Sultanate of Brunei, or the US Senate, or the Board of Regents for the University system in Georgia or even MTV.
When worshipping Jesus this morning I was thinking about these things. It is easy (and appropriate) to worship him for the personal stuff. "Jesus I love the ways you rend space and come to me in very intimate, personal ways - addressing fears and concerns, meeting basic needs, and making my joy complete." But to worship him because of the nature of his dominion, his rule over all things, his kingdom come to earth; this is less easy in most of the Evangelical worship settings I find myself in because we are almost exclusively focused on the personal advantages of knowing Jesus.
There is a hyper-personalization of our encounter with Christ. He comes with a strictly personal agenda and we respond with worship that rises out of the personal benefits that being in relationship with him brings. But what if his coming kingdom has some apparent disadvantages for me as it did for the rich, young ruler? What if some of the systems of this world are bent toward me in ways that disadvantage others, and he has come to straighten them?
Can I worship Jesus even if his reign causes me to have less money, less status and less power? Can I worship him when his rule will bring the deposing of the powerful and advantaged and the exalting of the powerless, even if I am the powerful and advantaged that get deposed? "He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty," (Luke 1:53) was the song on his mother's lips as she considered the radical reversal of fortune the coming of her son signaled.
As someone who has been advantaged by centuries of slavery, who has had doors opened for no reason other than the fact that I carry the right color passport, as someone who has more in common with those upon whom Jesus pronounced woes (Luke 6:24-26) than those who were called blessed - can I still worship?
Even if his coming kingdom takes away all I own, removes all my advantages, and makes me despised by those whom this world regards as great, I worship. I worship because such a kingdom reveals the beauty and glory of a king like nothing this world has to offer.

The Land of God

I wondered if the “Land of God” was fictitious
Like Atlantis and risen Elvis
Something only for the superstitious
This, yeasty, feasty, blessed be the leasty, glorious Land of God
 
Tucked away in a Kolkata bustee
Where ten thousand women stand for sale in a line, like vending machine candy bars
In brothels of rusty tin and musty stench and lusty-driven men
 I stumbled upon it, fumbled upon it, crumpled upon it
 
I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise
Jesus said the prostitutes were entering the Land of God ahead of everybody else
The rich are left to wrestle their camels through needle eyes
All the while the Land of God is filling up with throw away, stow away, skid row away people
 
I never would’ve thought to look in a Kolkata tee-shirt factory for the Land of God
Humming with the clattering of machines and the chattering of laughing women
Laughing like those who’ve just discovered a thousand dollar wad
Falling from folds in the fabric of their deportation, their immigration, their liberation
 
In this grungy, tee-shirt factory, Land of God, everybody is paid the same
The skilled seamstress and the scrap sweeper, who started today, and can’t read or write
And is partly learning disabled, and her right foot is lame
And poverty’s anesthetic has stolen her prophetic poetic without apologetic
 
In this poorly lit, dye-smelling Land of God, the laborer’s children come for free
Where they learn how to count and how to spell and are taught how to be four again
And they sometimes act out with innocent naiveté
The sexual contextual, quite matter-of-factual just like they saw “uncle” doing with momma in the little room while they tried to sleep
 
 This hot and sweaty slum-based Land of God thing
Women of a certain disposition, who have been glared at or winked at
Are finally wooed and courted and wed to a King
Who bore the rapport of a whore so they could live like the queens they were destined to be
 
I have never been in a place with more hope, more light-hearted levity
Full of life in every way you can imagine it possible here on this planet
Where trials and griefs and pains pass with bitter brevity
And the immunity of community drowns in opportunity to live here on earth as it is in heaven
 
There is a kind of life being lived in a Kolkata slum very close to the way it is supposed be
And I’m quite sure Jesus himself lives and laughs and works
With women who have been plundered and robbed of their dignity
But have shod the façade of poverty’s fraud in the beautiful Land of God

The Government of Christ

I’ve never been very politically-minded. Politics bore me, and the kind of posturing, rhetoric and high-minded denouncement of “the other” all reek to me of a sort of arrogance. Politics breed divisiveness in its mildest form and bloodshed in its most violent. But as allergic as I feel toward politics, I am growing more convinced of the Governorship of Christ in the social, economic and yes, even the political sphere of life.
 
As I reflect this Good Friday on Jesus’ crucifixion, I am struck with just how political the story of Christ really is, though I confess to being influenced this Easter in my reading The Politics of Jesus, by John Howard Yoder, during Lent. The dawning government or kingdom of Jesus is meant to encompass all aspects of life, including all ways in which power and authority are exercised.
 
From the very start of the story of Jesus there are political ramifications. Herod attempted to rid himself of a political rival by slaughtering the baby boys of Bethlehem (the city of the King). Messiah was not understood strictly in religious terms. He was taken to be a threat to Herod’s political rule.
 
And Herod was right to feel threatened. The great prophet Isaiah said of Messiah, “… and the government will be upon his shoulder … Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even forever. Isaiah 9:7 (KJV).
 
I do not believe the kingship of Messiah was solely understood in eschatological terms either, otherwise Herod would not have been threatened, nor would the disciples expect as they did the overthrow of Roman rule. The fact that Jesus did not bring about regime change violently or in the ways that most every other change of political rule has come about on earth does not diminish the political implications of his kingship.
 
Every well-versed Jew would understand Messiah as an all-encompassing Governor – religiously, socially and politically. Or put another way, Messiah would be priest, prophet and king. If Jesus had come with only religious implications he would simply have been stoned for heresy. The fact that the Romans were roped in (albeit at the instigation of the religious authorities) suggests there was some validity to Jesus’ threat of installing a competing kingdom to Rome. The charge nailed above his head on the cross was political, “King of the Jews.” This was a charge laid before Jesus directly in each gospel account and one which he did not deny. A charge that the crowds understood to be political as they shouted "We have no king but Ceasar," sealing Jesus' fate as an insurrectionist and his execution as State sponsored. If there were no grounds whatsoever for crimes against State, Pilate would not have bothered with interrogating Jesus or ultimately executing him. 
 
Jesus used a political designation– that of kingdom – as the best way to describe his mission. His claim in his inaugural address in Luke 4 was that he was ushering in Jubilee, a “hard reset” of social and economic imbalances. Poverty, sickness, slavery and oppression would be redressed.
 
The term “good news” from where we get our word “gospel” was described in Isaiah 52:7 as news about a reign of peace and salvation – the terms peace and salvation would have been understood by exiled Israel politically. Most any news worth employing a messenger to cross great distances would have been news of regime change or of a battle outcome.
 
Paul was in trouble at least as often with political leaders as he was with religious leaders. Jesus promised his disciples would get in trouble with both State authorities and religious authorities. In fact, for the first two centuries of the Church most of the Christian martyrs were executed for pledging allegiance to a different Emperor. I would probably not be far off the mark to suggest that the majority of Christian martyrdoms in history have been spawned by the threatening allegiance to Christ over and above allegiance to existing rulers.
 
Let me state my conviction straightforwardly. The rule/domain/kingship/governance of Christ is not only eschatological but present here and now (Matt 12:28). This rule is best understood in the political notion of “kingdom” in which God’s royal purposes and will are accomplished here on earth in every respect (Matt 6:10). The coming of this realm through the agency of her citizens will serve as a threat not only to competing religious authorities but to political powers (Matt 10:18). And the expansion of Christ’s governance will increase over the course time (Is. 9:7).
 
I concede, however, that I do not fully understand how Christ’s citizens are IN but not OF this world (Walter Wink convincingly establishes that the Greek word cosmos or “world” can mean the demonic system of domination, control and “power over” used by most earthly rulers). Nor do I clearly see how the pre-second-coming kingdom of God will be worked out practically in time and space. I simply know there is more to Jesus’ rule than can be safely sequestered to the personal, private or religious realm (though his rule certainly exists in those places as well).
 
Ultimately I believe that Jesus means for his followers to be salt, light and leaven in a corrupt world. And “all things,” whether thrones, dominions, rulers and powers (Col 1:16), have been created and established to serve Christ – both today, tomorrow and forever. So until we see all things, including our systems of governance, operate under the Prince-hood of Peace ushered in by Jesus, we must labor on as citizens of a coming dominion, working to see all things under his rule.

Of MONOPOLY™ and Meekness

 
MONOPOLY™ is that all-American game where the sole objective is to be the first person to buy up all available property, plot by plot, and then to charge such exorbitant rent that you drive each and every friend or family member into utter financial ruin, until finally you have acquired all the money and all the property possible. Created at the height of the American Depression, it’s easily one of the world’s all-time most popular board games.
 
How do we account for the fact that the theme of personal domination makes for such well-loved games? Could it be that one of our primal human instincts is titillated when we obtain utter mastery over others, even if it leads to their ruination? MONOPOLY™ has outsold all other board games of its kind with estimated sales of over 250 million copies. We all apparently love to rule over others. This would be just a curious observation but for the fact that a real-life MONOPOLY™ game is going on in most of the world. Much of the property in cities of the developing world is either wholly owned by or under the control of powerful families (or the corporations the families own). Other property is under the control of the “government,” which in some cases amounts to little more than a family-run business. For the world’s poor, the MONOPOLY™ board has been set and the property has been doled out to others. They will live their entire lives paying rent to the few who own everything.
 
The government of Cambodia, for instance, is parceling up the land on which the poor live and selling it to the highest bidder. Developers are betting that the tourist industry in Cambodia will grow. As of April 2008, 45 percent of the land mass of Cambodia had been sold. The poor (and the middle class, for that matter) have no real chance to purchase this land. Wealthy individuals and developers are not only able to come up with the cash required to purchase the property, they’re also willing to pay for the prostitutes needed to “service” the government officials and throw the parties that will enable the sales to go through.
 
Economists like Hernado De Soto believe that without the ability to legally own a piece of property, the landless poor are destined to live in perpetual desperation. They are locked out of MONOPOLY™ and serve only as income generators—“rent payers”—for those who own the board, until it becomes more convenient to kick them out.
 
If the property of billions of people is in the hands of a few game-winners intoxicated by the idea of winning at all costs, where is the hope for those who have been born losers?
 
The hope for the world lies in meekness. Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). The reason that the meek will inherit the earth is that they are naturally disposed to use power in the way it was designed by God to be used—as a guard for the weak and to preserve the common good—in contrast to those possessing MONOPOLY™ power, who consolidate wealth and status in a single set of hands at the expense of everyone else. Notice that the Beatitude from Matthew 5 does not say that the meek will conquer the earth or take over the earth. They will inherit it. It’s a trust given to them by their Father.
 
Wielding power with meekness is part of the design for humanity. It is the means by which the cosmos can operate most effectively. And for the person at peace with themselves and with God, meekness is a natural impulse, a quality which emerges because the ego is not hungry. But when we’re insecure, when we fear the slippage of our position, our deeply engrained broken desires come to life, clamoring for money, status and power even if it means crushing those around us. As the apostle Paul said, “Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains” (1 Timothy 6:9-10).
 
Meekness is the state of the healthy human freed from those “senseless and harmful desires,” freed from the fear of losing. The meek are able, like Jean Vanier and Henri Nouwen, to leave their jobs at the height of their careers to care for severely developmentally disabled adults. The meek will gravitate to those whom the world discards—whether the poor, the disabled, the homeless or the socially leprous—not simply out of compassion, but because they know there is much to learn from the broken. The meek are magnets for children because they are like children in some ways; they have that remarkable ability to embrace innocence without becoming ignorant of evil.
 
Meekness comes when the soul is at rest, and when given power to rule the earth, the meek will create a dominion that will subvert the self-oriented MONOPOLY™ world. But becoming meek requires dying, which is why so few of us actively pursue meekness.

Do Good. Subdue Evil

“Never pay back evil with more evil … Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.” Romans 12:17-21 (NLT)
 
When one of my brothers hit me as a kid, I usually hit back (if I could catch them). I am sure I did my share of initiating as well. The funny thing was that I never wanted to hit them back less hard than they hit me. In fact, just to be certain that I hit them back at least as hard as they hit me, I would usually give the punch as much gusto as possible. I never wanted to under hurt. That tendency is why victims are not allowed to serve as judge or jury in the crimes commited against them. You might call it retaliation inflation.
 
Retaliatory violence is rarely lighter than the original violence committed. When Jesus said to turn the other cheek and when Paul urged us never to pay back evil for evil they were placing a check on our tendency to pay people who harm us back with just a tad more oomph than they used to hurt us. Retaliation is a form of exalting evil, a kind of Satan worship; a celebration of violence.
 
As a school kid I was pretty low on the popularity pecking order. I was short and shy – a dangerous combination in junior high and high school. One day Jimmy, a kid much taller but also unpopular, announced on the bus ride home to everyone that he would fight me at the bus stop. This, I assume, was to attempt to increase his status if only a little.
 
I was mortified. I didn’t want to fight Jimmy. Besides, I knew I could not win. So when he started pushing me a crowd gathered around. I sheepishly said I wasn’t going to fight him. He simply kept knocking me down and hitting me each time I got back up. Still, I refused to hit him back, more out of conviction that I’d never win than out of a noble sense of turning the other cheek.
 
The funny thing was that when it was all said and done Jimmy was the one who walked away totally humiliated, as if he were unable to even beat up a pipsqueak like me. He never had the satisfaction of proving his physical superiority because I never hit him back.
 
There is beautiful power in non-violent, non-compliance. Evil, abuse and oppression is exposed for what it is when the little guy does not fight back. There may be times when it is appropriate to remove yourself from a situation of oppression, but to fight fire with fire often simply solidifies and justifies the decision of the oppressor to use force.
 
Paul and Jesus go a step further than non-violence. They endorse the violence of love in the face of evil. When a Roman soldier pressed you into service, he was prohibited from forcing you to carry his gear beyond one mile. To carry it for two was to say, “I don’t carry your gear because I have to or because I am afraid of you. I carry it out of love, and because my Emperor’s rule of two miles trumps your Emperor’s rule of one mile.”
 
A story is told of a couple, who after years of trying to have children, finally bear a son as they enter their early forties. Their young son is the pride of their lives and cherished beyond imagining. At five years old the boy is brutalized and murdered by a mentally ill and tormented young man. Retaliation would be for this couple to kill the man. Justice would be for the man to be tried, convicted and sentenced in a court of law. Mercy would be for the couple to forgive the man. But Paul and Jesus suggest a way of love and grace which goes beyond justice and beyond mercy. The way of grace is when the couple adopts the young man as their son and seeks his restoration and healing.
 
This kind of grace has a way of not simply preventing evil from infecting and poisoning us to become evil ourselves, but is a way of overcoming, overpowering and subjugating evil through outrageous, even offensive, good.

Can "The Gospel" Be Lived?

Hi Scott,
 
Two years ago, I took some time to study the word "gospel" as it is used in the Bible.  I started out by reading the four gospels themselves, making particular note of any reference to the gospel in word or intent.  Then I did a word search and looked at all of the verses in the Bible which contain that word.  (There are fewer than 100 and surprisingly, none at all in the book of John.)  I think I started this study because I heard you and others using the word "gospel" to mean something broader than the understanding I had always held.  Maybe I was missing something.  It wouldn't be the first time.  There have been lots of narrow views that I held as a young believer attending a Baptist church which I later rejected or expanded. 
 
This time, however, I concluded that the narrow definition is best.  The gospel is simply the good news that "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." (1Tim 1:15)  I find no Biblical evidence that our particular gospel, the gospel of Jesus Christ, is anything other than this. 
 
A very consistent pairing of words found in the Bible is "preach" and "gospel."  The gospel is preached.  It is a message.  You preach the gospel, you don't live the gospel.  That word pairing, "live" and "gospel," is not found in any meaningful way in the Bible.  To be sure, we should live "in light of" the gospel message.  But if that's what you mean, then say it that way.  Saying that we should "live the gospel" is just confusing and an invitation to misunderstand.
 
There is no "whole gospel" that is somehow more inclusive than the meaning found in 1 Timothy (and every other Biblical reference I could find.)  Again, this word pairing is not found in the Bible, and again, its use just invites confusion.
 
Feeding the poor is not the gospel.  "Feeding the poor" is feeding the poor!  Let's use accurate language.  Pursuing justice is not the gospel.  Taking care of the environment is not the gospel.  But saying this in no way diminishes the importance of these things.  The sheer volume of admonitions from Jesus to take care of the poor makes it imperative.  Clearly God loves justice.  I'm a big fan of creation care. But resist the temptation to call these things "the gospel."  They are not!  These thing are important in their own right.  There's no need to infuse importance by attaching the word "gospel" to them.
 
Want to get together for coffee sometime?
 
Rick.
 -----
 
Thanks, Rick, for the thoughtful engagement around the word “gospel.”
 
I agree, by definition, “news” is not a verb and it is not lived, it is broadcast or announced. What I suppose I find myself resisting is the reduction of that “news” into four spiritual laws which have an exclusively individualistic focus. To me the news which is good enough to herald has more expansive implications than simply being rescued from Hell.
 
1.       Gospel and kingdom are paired in at least 9 sections of scripture. That is to say that this good news is about a realm, a dominion, a kingdom. And while it is true we cannot speak of the kingdom without reference to the King, it would be short-sighted to ignore the scope of this news. If we want to count references (which we probably don’t) “kingdom” is referred to by Jesus far more than “gospel” (“gospel” shows up 9 times in the Gospels while “kingdom” shows up 116 times).
2.       This kingdom so worth proclaiming and even losing your life for belongs in some special and particular way to the poor. And while the sermon on the mount reference, “blessed are the poor for theirs is the kingdom”, likely refers to a poverty of spirit, it most certainly cannot be divorced from those who experience a poverty of body (the lame, blind, etc) and a poverty of resources (the materially poor). We cannot avoid the centrality that the poor occupy in this kingdom announced by, and ushered in by Christ.
3.       The scripture Jesus probably refers to when he re-coined the term “good news” in his teaching is Isaiah. 61:1 “The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners.” This proclamation, reiterated by Jesus in Luke 4, was not only particularly good news to the poor but involved broken hearts being healed, captives being freed, and prisoners coming out of darkness. These would have been understood with both literal and metaphoric power.
4.       Jesus talks about losing one’s life “for the gospel” and Paul speaks of being in chains “for the gospel.” Interesting that this particular phrasing does not necessarily say losing one’s life for preaching the gospel, but that aside, the gospel must certainly have implications beyond a privatized and personalized response to such a point that it endangers those who “obey the gospel” (another iteration which may not involve preaching).
 
While I will concede that the technical definition of “gospel” is something one heralds, I grieve that the understanding of this good news of a dawning kingdom has been reduced to an individualistic, consumeristic, privitized, personal relationship with Jesus (a particular understanding of “gospel” which I think I could argue has been popularized only in the past couple hundred years by a specific wing of western Protestantism). It has become for many a gospel of self absorption, not a gospel of the absolute reign of Christ over “all things” systems and individuals included.
 
Yes! Let’s do coffee.
 
Scott
-----
 
Hey Scott
 
You make some really good points, particularly about the kingdom.  The "gospel of the kingdom" is a phrase used by both Matthew and Luke and that concept is expressed elsewhere as well.  I also agree with you that the "life insurance" view of the gospel which has been popularized over the past century is inadequate, even dangerously inaccurate.  I continue to maintain that for the sake of effective communication, it's important for us to define and distinguish between "the gospel" and "the implications of the gospel."  However, let me propose a definition that's a bit more robust than what I previously implied:
 
I believe that the gospel is the good news that Jesus came to die for sins, to establish His kingdom, and to redeem creation.
 
It's always great to talk with you, Scott.
 
Rick 

The Poor You Will Always Have With You

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.
 
Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly.
 
"Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me” (Mark 14:3-7).
 
For someone who speaks and writes regularly about Jesus’ heart for the poor and about the powerful connection between “true religion” and our generosity toward the poor, this is an uncomfortable passage. Was Jesus saying that our compassionate giving to the poor doesn’t really make any difference in solving the problem of poverty? Was he suggesting that we resign ourselves to the permanence of poverty?
 
Before getting too far into understanding what Jesus may have meant, let me simply say that I believe poverty is less a failure of money as it is a failure of love.
 
As much as I grieve the hemorrhaging of money out of poor communities and into the pockets of the rich, as difficult as it is for me to see the incredible pressure that keeps the world’s lowest wages at unlivable levels, and as useful as it may be to stimulate economic growth among the poor, I simply do not believe the chief problem with poverty is money.
 
One of the problems exacerbating poverty, however, is most certainly greed – which has very little to do with money. Greed is a sickness. It is an itch which is never satisfied. Greed is not as much about money as it is about the “love of money,” which Paul says causes us to wander from the faith and pierce ourselves with many griefs (I Tim. 6:10). Greed is the act of rejecting God as master in favor of another (Luke 16:13). Greed is spiritual, not material.
 
When Jesus asked the rich, young ruler in Mark 10 to sell all he had, give it to the poor and come follow him, Jesus was not attempting to solve poverty, he was attempting to cure this young man of the greed that had killed his soul. He was trying to resuscitate his spirit and give him real life.
 
Money has the power to trap us but it does not have the power to truly free us. A solution to poverty may include the need to re-think economics, but the end of poverty will not be rooted in the growth of economies but in the growth of love.
 
So given that poverty and greed are spiritual more than material, let’s look again at Jesus’ statement.
 
  1. The context of this passage was the fleeting, physical presence of Jesus Christ on earth just before his death and resurrection. The focus of the passage is centered on worship not poverty and wealth. If his second coming included his physical appearance at my house for dinner, and if I were privileged to pour him his first taste of wine since the last supper, I would not hesitate to spend my retirement savings for a bottle of 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild Jeroboam.
  2. His statement was in response to the berating this woman received, particularly from Judas who was greedy for the money this perfume might have fetched to line his own pockets (John 12). He was defending this woman’s act of worship. Perhaps he was suggesting that our acts of worship would be to pour our alabaster jars of perfume upon the heads of the poor after his ascension, essentially saying, “This woman has done a beautiful thing to me now while I am physically present, you will have many chances to do beautiful things to me later when I am present in the form of the poor.”
  3. Jesus was quoting Deuteronomy 15. This is a stunning Old Testament passage which says both, “You should have no poor among you,” v. 4, and “There will always be poor people in the land,” v. 11. God set up an economic system that, if followed, would make poverty virtually unheard of. The acknowledgement in verse 11 that there would always be poor in the land is either a prophetic denouncement that Israel would never fully obey the commands, or that the flourishing nation would be so economically solid that it would attract the poor from the nations around them. Either way, in his quote Jesus harkens to a passage which essentially says that poverty was never meant to be a thriving condition among God’s people.
Just because it may not be possible to eradicate all sexual aberration from earth does not mean that child prostitution is acceptable and cannot be made a bizarre and rare occurrence, or that we should accept it and not work towards its end. Can we eradicate greed from humanity? Probably not. Can we create a world where it is hard to get into poverty and easy to get out? With God’s help I believe we can.
 
Jesus was not saying that we must accept poverty as normal and OK, he was reminding us of the primacy of worship and calling us back to the Deuteronomic blessing of living out God’s commands for Jubilee, forgiveness of debt, and generosity toward those in need.

Why the Church is Full of Sickies

I sat next to a man on a plane once reading, Why I am not a Christian and Other Essays …by Bertrand Russell. I leaned over and asked, “Does Bertrand Russell provide a compelling argument?”

The man looked up a little surprised and said, “Yes, actually. He is pretty compelling.”
 
I further inquired, “Are some of his main arguments against Christianity really more focused on Christian followers than on the person of Christ.”
 
“Yeah.” He replied. “The reason he’s not a Christian has as much to do with the Church as with anything else.”
 
In fact in his essay (originally a talk given in 1927 to the National Secular Society in London) he says, “I think that there are a good many points upon which I agree with Christ a great deal more than the professing Christians do.” Russell goes on to cite how Christians do not really believe the “turn the other cheek” teaching of Christ (Russell was a strict pacifist) and then lists other ways Christians don’t really take seriously Jesus’ teachings on providing for the poor or not judging others
 
“Humph,” I grunted in agreement. “Yeah, Jesus certainly does attract messed up people to Himself. He said that he came for the sick and not for the healthy, so I guess that’s why the Church is so full of sick and broken people.”
 
The fact of the matter is that more jerks enter the faith than well-put-together people. I’m talking about people with serious issues. Not only is the church full of them but the Bible is as well! Abraham was a liar, Moses was a murdering hothead, David was a womanizer, the apostles all had issues (even Jesus’ very own great, great, great, etc. grandmother was a prostitute). Who would make up such stuff? The Bible is so full of such incredibly flawed people that one of the reasons I am a Christian is that ancient near eastern mythology would never invent people like Abraham, Moses, David, Rahab, Peter as heroes unless there was some kind of objective historicity to them.
 
The Church is full of sickies. But the fact that there are seriously flawed people following Jesus (I include myself here) should not be so disturbing to us. In some ways it makes a lot of sense that only those who are struggling, messed up, and hungry for wholeness manage to limp our way to Jesus and enter into his big, fat, dysfunctional family. We should expect a Church with a decided lack of emotionally whole, socially adroit, intellectual geniuses who have no need of a Savior. What is missing from the Church sometimes is our ability to admit that we are all broken beggars clinging to a mysterious Savior whom we understand imperfectly and follow even less perfectly.
 
So for all the flawed people out there who have avoided the Church because Jesus’ followers seem so … so … well twisted, I welcome your own bent, messed up soul into this company of followers as we seek simply to draw near to and love with our sick, twisted hearts the only Unbent One I know of.

IV. Poverty: Not in History's Culmination

(You may want to check out Part I, Part II, and Part III

Except for an infinitesimal pocket of humanity (almost exclusively in the west and mainly in the last few hundred years) men and women in every era and on every continent have known that there is some kind of life after death. From the beginning of the human experience, archaeologists tell us that we humans have always been deeply convinced of the hereafter.

When God came to earth in the man Jesus Christ, he spoke a fair bit about “eternal life,” and about the “age to come.” While there is plenty of mystery surrounding the specifics of this place and time, one thing is clear – at some point at the culmination of history, God and people will live together in a way we have not known … at least not for a very long time. One of the final verses of the Bible puts it this way:
 
"Look! God's dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Rev. 21:3-4).
 
In this place where lion and lamb lie down together, where the tree of life gives leaves which heal nations, where a river of life flows from the throne of God; there is no slum, there is no homelessness, there is no child labor, no sex trafficking. It is a place of shalom. When God redeems all things at history’s culmination, there will be no poverty.
 
There was no poverty in creation. And even in our fallen world, God set up a government in Old Testament Israel in such a way that “there should be no poor among you.” (Deut. 15:4). When the followers of Jesus first came together after Jesus had risen from the dead “there were no needy people among them,” (Acts 4:34). And in the picture of “the age to come” we see a place where “children will not be doomed to misfortune,” (Is. 65:23).
 
So if poverty was not part of the design for the universe, if God created structures among his people in both old and new testaments to eradicate it (or at least make it very rare), and if God’s kingdom to come does not tolerate poverty, then why do God’s people accept it today as if it is something we just have to get used to? Is God OK with half of humanity living on less than $2.50 per day and 25,000 children dying each day because they simply lack the dignity of daily bread?
 
Let me assure you that poverty is not OK with God. A twelve-year-old girl, forced because of poverty to have sex with ten guys a day is not OK with God. Poverty so deep that entire communities must live off the garbage of others is not OK with God. Poverty is an offense to God, it is an offense to creation and it ought to be an offense to us. And until his kingdom has come and his will is done on earth as it is in heaven poverty should not be tolerated.

More Entries

Disclaimer: These blogs are the words of the writers and do not represent InterVarsity or Urbana. The same is true of any comments which may be posted about any blog entries. Submitted comments may or may not be posted within the blog, at the bloggers' discretion.

learn. be. go. serve. ask.

 

"Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage - with great patience and careful instruction."

2 Timothy 4:2 (NIV)

 
 

Urbana Stories

“I attended Urbana 06 as a Spanish interpreter.I had never heard of Intervarsity and was not involved with any Christian...”

read more

share your story

 

Books by Scott Bessenecker:
The New Friars: The Emerging Movement Serving the World's Poor

How to Inherit the Earth