When I consider
the heavens
the work of your fingers
the moon and stars
which you established
What is a man,
that you even think of him?
Yet you have crowned him with glory and honor.
Psalm 8:3-4 (my translation)
(Note: The theme image is generated by AI. I’m interested in how applicable the image is. The photo in the post is one I took with my Samsung Galaxy S23+.)
Christian education programs in churches are often the least well-thought-out elements of church life.
Many may think I’m exaggerating or being unfair. I didn’t get this from a survey, so I can’t point you to statistics, but I am drawing on many years of experience with Sunday School and other programs, so while these are observations, and may be somewhat based on anecdotes, those anecdotes are numerous, and they are first hand.
Here are some of the things I have noticed:
Let me expand on each of these just a bit.
I have been in Sunday School classes that were using standard denominational and/or interdenominational curriculum materials for decades. Often, seen independently, these materials were not bad. The problem was that they did not nurture growth as they continued to discuss the same topics at the same level.
I have seen comparisons of time in Sunday School (and even more in my Seventh-day Adventist days, Sabbath School) vs college or seminary classes. The idea was that the members should be happy that they were getting such a wonderful education.
But if a student spend 30 years studying the same set of subjects at precisely the same level in a college, that would be considered time wasted. I don’t mean that we don’t need to review basic doctrines and theological ideas.
We also need to grow.
This is another way to look at the first point. What is the goal of your class or small group? Do you hope to grow? Do you hope to be a better witness? Do you hope to learn anything new?
Or is your Christian education program, whatever form it takes, designed to make you feel good that you have attended Sunday School all your life, or that you are frequently at church like a good person?
These goals need not be academic. It is good to learn more about doctrines, but what about learning how a church functions? Or even better how is should function as a part of the body of Christ? What about learning how to express your faith “with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15 NIV)?
I have yet to attend a church that wasn’t scrambling for leadership in various programs. Here’s the question: Were you preparing church members to lead? Were you recognizing potential leaders and tailoring your educational activity, whether one-on-one, small group, or the whole congregation to help them develop and use their potential?
This is a pet peeve of mine, and I’ve encountered it in every church I have ever attended. I don’t recall Sunday School classes being interrupted for things that were useless. This is not about denigrating the interrupting activities.
But, and it’s a big one, I’ve seen small group activities, including Sunday School, most easily put aside for any other activity of the church. It’s possible that leaders recognize that their Christian education programs have no goals and are just marking time, so they can be put aside without harming the day-to-day life of the church.
That should be a very big red flag! If you can easily put aside your Christian education programs, they are probably not set up to actually serve our Lord and His body.
I have observed this in two ways. First, we tend not to have any idea of how we would prepare someone to be a teacher in the church. Second, we tend to throw anyone into the mix at just about any time.
A third observation would be that we often don’t recognize capabilities that members bring into the church. A public school teacher may well be prepared to contribute to your children’s or youth programs. (On the other hand, they may prefer not to do what they do during the week, and may have other talents.)
We can err by falling into the ditch on either side. We can create a set of requirements that are a barrier to entry for new members. On the other hand, we can entrust the education of the congregation to the unprepared.
I recall early in my experience with the United Methodist Church the pastor invited me to preach. He knew I have an MA in religion and read the Bible in their original languages. He had talked to me quite extensively and was satisfied with my doctrinal integrity. A member involved in the United Methodist lay speaking program objected strenuously to me being allowed to speak when I had not completed the certification program.
I had no objection to taking that program and thought it would be very useful in becoming acclimatized in Methodism. I was disappointed. As a program it was a program. One checked boxes. I still found it valuable for the people I met and a number of teachers who were gifted and helpful. But to this one leader, it was a box that needed to be checked.
Truly learning to do requires doing. This is true in your daily life and work. It’s true in the church.
Everyone who is in leadership should have one or more people they are training and/or mentoring in their own skills and gifts. I see church after church losing long-time leaders, and lacking trained replacements.
Note that mentoring is not just letting someone follow you around, or talking to that person occasionally. It is allowing someone to learn the job and potentially–indeed hopefully–become better than you are at that particular activity.
The church should never have a shallow bench.
And if you think that’s hard, read the gospel again. Watch Jesus work with his students: Disciples.
There are people who see things that need to be done and have the initiative to jump in and just take over. There are other people who are willing to serve, but need someone to point out what is needed.
The first class of people tend to think the second class are lazy and wonder why they don’t just find something to do and get active already!
People won’t always recognize ways in which they can serve. Indeed, if they are isolated from the small group which is active in leadership, they may never have the opportunity to know. They many not even know who to ask.
I’ve heard by an 80-20 and a 90-10 rule, the latter being the pessimist’s view. Twenty percent of the people do 80% of the work. This is presented as a form of condemnation of the 80%. They’re just pew sitters.
But if you are part of the 20%, and I’m pointing fingers at myself here, you are also part of the problem. You are letting this happen! You should not be participating in denying that 80% their blessing of service.
Hard?
Jesus. Disciples. Boom!
Here’s where I annoy the most people.
Our Christian education needs to prepare people to be the salt of the earth. Salt needs taste, or “savor” as the KJV has it in the beatitudes. Salt has identity (its saltiness) and witness (what it does when spread out in food, etc).
We need identity and witness.
An educational program that just prepares people to repeat your church’s doctrinal views accurately is not adequate. Neither is one that prepares people to be evangelists of your church building, property, form of organization, or human traditions.
People need to know stuff. Lots of stuff. Stuff about all the stuff.
Some people were worried when I invited a Calvinist to address our Wesleyan/Methodist young people. I’d be worried if I tried to bring them up on just what I believe but not to understand how other Christians understand various beliefs.
Oh, about that Calvinist teacher? He preached Christ and Him crucified. I was glad I invited him.
The critical element here is discipleship. “Imitate me as I imitate Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1 my translation). It can be frightening, especially if you’re honest with yourself about your success at imitating Christ.
It’s still God’s ordained idea.
And that answers all of the points. Set our standards high: He did. Be willing to do the hard work: He did. Make the building of disciples our priority: He did.
That’s church.
Because, in my chosen way, I am involved.
I thought I’d answer this question in a post so I’d have something to reference when people ask. Most of those who have asked me this have not done so in an online environment.
The reason I want to answer it is that some people have gotten the wrong impression. Thus, first, what is not my reason?
It is not that I believe Christians should not be involved in politics. While I believe that the church, as CHURCH, should not be tied to politics, I believe that individual Christians can and should be involved. The extent of their involvement is individual, but I would include voting, advocating for candidates, endorsing candidates, being a candidate, and of course advocating on issues.
I was registered to vote in the first election after I turned 18. In that election, I was also the precinct captain for a candidate (it was a primary), and also a poll watcher. I advocated for my candidate on my college campus. I have been involved in other campaigns since, though only at the precinct level. I do not regret this activity in any way.
I fervently hope that all who are eligible, Christian or not, will study the issues and candidates and go to the polls. Right now, beside this computer, I have my sample ballot. There are a number of races on which I have already decided my position. There are a few marked for some further study.
My particular reason for writing this post is to make this statement. If you fail to see political posts by me on social media, it is not because I consider politics unimportant, too dirty to get involved in, or uninteresting.
So why would I appear so uninvolved at this point that people ask me why? Obviously, nobody asked that while I was stuffing envelopes, making phone calls, and standing outside the polling station in various elections.
The reason is simple: I believe that each of us have to set priorities. When I was working politically I had the time to be well-educated on the topics and the reasons I advocated for my candidate or issue.
In particular, I do not believe the volume of political posts one puts out is a good measure of their involvement or their effectiveness.
At this point I find I have time to advocate effectively (I hope!) on only a few things. I choose to advocate on issues of my faith. I vigorously advocate for dialog. I advocate against demonizing your opponents. I firmly believe in the worth of every person, definitely including those I am tempted to hate.
What I do not do is publicly advocate on specific proposals or issues, on parties, or on specific candidates.
I could wish more people would make some choices along these lines. The vast majority of political posts and memes are not actually worthy of viewing or reading. For some reason we often feel we have to have opinions–strong opinions–on a broad range of political issues, often without enough effort to be informed. Those who repeatedly say, “Do your own research,” are often the worst offenders.
My level of involvement is decided by these ideas, and yes, as a Christian, I decide this prayerfully. But please, be involved as you can effectively be. Then show up at the polls and vote. It’s a privilege, but I also see it as a duty as a citizen of a republic.
In my Sunday School class yesterday we discussed Mark 15. We’re reading this with Allan Bevere’s Keeping Up with Jesus: A Narrative Devotional Commentary on Mark.
In the thought questions for chapter 15, Allan asks both why Jesus is silent at his trial as depicted in Mark, and what it means that Jesus died for our sins.
On the first question, there were a number of answers, including simply, “prophecy,” that it was expected. But I want to focus on one note I make myself about this, because it relates to the third question, which is how we understand Jesus dying for our sins. (There are three questions following each chapter in the commentary. I’m focusing on the first and third.)
In a trial with a foregone conclusion, there is really no point in making a defense, unless you are doing so for someone listening. In this case, I suspect the crowd is well selected for hostility (at least of the moment), and thus not prepared to actually listen to a defense.
This leads me to what I think is a key point about the death of Jesus. It creates a story of contrast and of black and white confrontation. Nobody is seeing the day in shades of gray. In a book by one of my favorite authors, David Weber, there’s a quote by one of the characters, which I paraphrase from memory here: “Very few days are outlined in black and white, and most of those days have a body count.” I don’t know if that quote is original to Weber, and I can’t locate the correct book, but it’s good.
The day of the crucifixion was not set out in gray, and it definitely had a body count. It creates the moment of contrast between what good is willing to do and what evil is willing to do. Good dies for others; evil kills what it does not like.
A portrayal such as this is one that day to day reality can’t really live up to. We don’t have the clear line drawn in the story. We have our struggles both to understand and to do. But that is a critical value of the story: It drives us to higher ground. If we let it.
So what did this have to do with the third question. What does it mean that Jesus died for our sins?
What I loved about this question was that it called for each person to think: What does that mean to me? It’s easy to be very prescriptive. We like to have one interpretation and get everyone to understand it.
I would suggest that no single metaphor can possibly do justice to the atonement. It’s a good thing we don’t have only one!
As an undergraduate working on my degree in biblical languages, there was a required course on exegesis of Romans in Greek, to be taken after I completed intermediate Greek. The professor for this class was an advocate of the moral influence theory of the atonement. This theory is often presented simply as Jesus providing an example in his life of how we should live and influencing good behavior in us.
That’s not the whole story. In that theory, the portrayal of good and evil meeting at the cross becomes a powerful influence, a powerful changemaker.
I didn’t get that in class. I wanted something other than penal substitutionary atonement, and I hoped that I could accept what this scholar presented. I wanted to read this view in Romans. I tried to do so diligently.
It never worked.
It took me some time to realize that there was something here for me to take in and make a part of my understanding. That portrayal, brutal as it was, was a necessary part of the story of salvation. It was easy to miss this in other views. Then I started to see other metaphors for the atonement, and to see how they build a picture.
In fact, I came back to appreciate the courtroom metaphor presented by penal substitution, which, among other things helps portray completeness, and finality while excluding the idea of us earning the result. I have conservative friends who still think I’m ditching this dominant evangelical view of the atonement and progressive friends who wonder why I don’t just ditch it. To me, however, each of these views is essential. Since this is not my main topic, I’ll leave it at that.
I turn next to expressions of faith by the Apostle Paul. Paul can be an annoying character. He covers a lot of ground and expects you to keep up.
I was interviewing author Herold Weiss, author of the book Meditations on the Letters of Paul in a series I did titled “Who Was Paul?” One question I asked was this: Let’s imagine you’re at a conference and you have the duty of introducing Paul as the next speaker. What do you say?
Herold laughed and said, “I don’t have to answer that. You see, Paul would never have been invited to speak in the first place!”
He’s likely right. Paul was too much of a disruptor to be invited to church conferences. It was much more likely that conferences would be held to talk about him and what he was doing, such as in Acts 15.
In many of Pauls’ letters we have what looks like a theological section, which generally talks about salvation and will frequently inform you that it is not of works. Then you move to a section that talks about things you ought to do. Often these sections are presented as distinct, as though Paul had multiple personality. “Not of works, now get to work,” so to speak.
I think a closer look will allow these to be coordinated, and I think Philippians is an excellent place to do so. The reason is that until chapter 3, which seems to be a kind of side-tirade, Paul is ready to go through the basics quickly.
By Philippians 1:27 he’s telling his readers/hearers to live in their community in a way that is “worthy of the good news (gospel).” He wants to hear that they are “standing firm,” and “striving together” for the gospel. He continues that God has granted the the privilege not only of believing (a privilege, a gift, not a purchase), but also of suffering for Jesus as well.
Not of works. Here come the works.
Well, yes and no. Paul is writing here, I think, on that line drawn between good and evil at his crucifixion. You get a choice. Are you a crucifier or are you crucified?
Too often Christians have answered that they are with the crucified one while picking up nails and erecting crosses.
I was asked once in Sunday School who I thought was right when two groups were fighting over doctrinal points, really fighting, to the extent of killing one another. It has happened way too much in Christian history. I said that anyone who was killing the other one over their beliefs was wrong. Killing people in the name of the one who went to the cross silently and said, “Father forgive them,” is blasphemous.
Have I departed from Paul and his letter to the Philippians? I think not.
Paul now tells the Philippians to make his joy complete (2:2) by being of one mind (sharing viewpoint) and having the same love. Nothing is to come from selfishness or vanity, but they are to regard others as better than themselves (2:3) then also look to the interests of others, rather than their own.
I think Paul is looking at that line. Are you a crucifier or are you with the crucified?
Philippians 2:5-11 is a famous passage. Jesus emptied himself, humbled himself, became obedient, and went to the cross. Others called for his blood.
This was a portrayal of the nature of good and the nature of evil. That is something we should not forget about the crucifixion, if for no other reason that we avoid becoming the persecutors.
As Paul says it in Galatians: “I have been crucified with Christ. I’m no longer the one living, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:19b-20a). That’s the line drawn in morality and in history. Paul has no intention either in Philippians or in Galatians of telling his hearers that this is easy. He doesn’t suggest that everyone will love them after the decision or that they will get a new job, drive a better car, or be suddenly totally free of disease.
Be crucified with Christ.
Things start going off the rail again right here. We think that having been crucified with Christ, or at least made the choice of which side of that line we want to be on, we must get on the ball and be better people.
Indeed, Jesus was exalted after death and given the name above all names. But first he went to that cross, was taken into the tomb, and was raised again by the very power he laid down in the first place.
Remember where the power comes from.
Having died, and been buried with him by baptism, you don’t come back and start fixing yourself.
“So, if anyone is in Christ, there’s new creation. The old stuff is gone. It has all become new.” (2 Corinthians 5:18b)
You can’t sanctify yourself. You’re dead. You’ve got no stuff at all. It’s all new, and it’s all His.
So back to Philippians and one of my favorite passages:
(12) So, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not only when I’m there, but also when I’m away, with fear and trembling work out your own salvation. (13) For it is God who works in you all, both to will and to accomplish his pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)
So how does this work?
I wonder why it’s so hard to see God at work in us morally when we already know God is at work in us. If you are a believer in God and that God is the creator, then everything, ultimately, is a gift of God. I could paraphrase this physically as “Do your own breathing with fear and trembling, for God is at work in you both to make you want to breathe and also to make you breathe.”
I don’t think that’s a ridiculous way to put it. I couldn’t type the next letter without God. God makes the various particles move around in a certain way. God brought me into the world. I can’t even make mistakes without God.
If you try to take over and do your own working, that just makes everything harder. God knows that and has a plan for all that as well. God makes you want. God works in and through you. But ultimately it’s all God.
If you go try to do it yourself, then it’s like jumping back to the person who just died, forgetting about being buried and raised to new life by divine power, and deciding to do it all just as if none of that every happened.
Does this mean there’s nothing to do? Actions are still important. Actions have consequences. Paul even says this in Galatians, his strongest book against works of the law. “Don’t be deceived! God is not mocked! Whatever a person sows that person will also reap” (Galatians 6:7).
Again we have to look at context, in this case, life context. Not every command, not every discussion of good and bad, smart and stupid, effective and ineffective is about whether or not you are saved or have eternal life. Deciding someone’s eternal state is not my job and it’s not yours. Let’s say that I am hiking a trail in some beautiful mountains, tremendous beauty all around, and I get careless, lose my step, and fall off a cliff. Gravity (created by God) still works. The ground (created by God) is still hard. My body (created by God) is still not up to a fast encounter with a hard place. I die.
Are the mountains still beautiful? Yes.
I also still have eternal life.
But it would have been a good idea to be more careful.
The invitation to salvation is not an invitation to an untroubled life. It’s not an invitation to always make perfect decisions. It’s not an invitation to comfort.
It’s also, and this is critical, not an invitation to think of yourself as better than other people. It’s not an invitation to be God’s favorite grandchild, spoiled rotten and looking down on all the other children who have somehow failed to earn all that love.
If you thought going to church was joining the popular kids’ club and becoming one of the important people, you missed the point. If you get a charge out of feeling superior, you’re missing the point.
“Looking to Jesus, the author and completer[sic] of our faith …” (Hebrews 12:2).
Read Philippians 2:5-11 again. Try to imagine just what it was that Jesus thought was not something to hang onto, what Jesus gave up. That’s where God is taking you. Don’t diminish that by looking sideways or looking back. When your measuring stick is God’s glory and God’s grace, the differences in human beings are literally not measurable.
And just as Jesus not only went to the cross and the grave, but rose again and ascended, so we now that God will complete what God has started.
As a continuation of my series on Theodicy, Steve Kindle interviewed me using the same set of questions I’ve used with all the other participants. This was recorded a year ago, but I just finished the production and posted it yesterday.
For more information on the series: Theodicy Interview Series.
In a practical sense, I have to agree on this. I’m not sure if that’s the reality behind everything.
From the late Jacob Milgrom’s 3 volume Anchor Bible Commentary on Leviticus, specifically on Leviticus 4:1-35, Purification Offering:
The Priestly doctrine of collective responsibility yields yet another corollary. The “good” people who perish with the evildoers are not innocent. For allowing the evildoers to flourish, to pollute the sanctuary beyond repair, they share the blame. Indeed, they are the inadvertent sinners who contribute to the pollution of the sanctuary. Let a modern–hence, more vivid–example illustrate the point. World War II would have presented no theological quandary for Israel’s priests of old. They would have rejected with scorn our contemporary theologians who have proclaimed that “God is dead.” Instead of bewailing the silence of God, they would have pointed the accusing finger at the human culprits, the inadvertent sinners, the “silent majority”–the German people who voted the Nazis into power and the peoples of the free world who acquiesced to the annexation of the Saar, Austria, and Sudetenland while barring their own doors to the refugees who managed to escape. A worldwide cataclysm was thus inevitable. Indeed, Israel’s priests would have asked: How long under these circumstances could God have been willing to abide in his earthly sanctuary?
Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1-16, The Anchor Bible, p. 261 (emphasis mine)
I’m following up on my post from yesterday, Making an Image to the Beast. I think these chapters contain quite a lot of useful information that is not primarily prediction, but is definitely prophetic, in the sense of bringing God’s Word to our situations.
I want to talk a bit more about what kind of image we create through our actions as the Church, but first, I wanted to look at the nature of the dragon and beasts, of whom we finally get an image late in the story.
Here are some of those attributes and the references:
Now if you’ve read Revelation, you’re probably acquainted with these items, but I thought it useful to compile a list. I didn’t intend it to have 12 items. That’s coincidental.
If you’re following along, an interesting mental exercise is to ask just what wisdom is involved in counting the number of the beast.
Almost forgot! The featured image was generated from text on Adobe Express this time. Just trying things out!
I’m working on the 2nd edition of my study guide to Revelation, and I’ve been meditating on Revelation 12 & 13, and especially 13:14-15.
By the miracles it was allowed to perform in the presence of the beast it deluded the inhabitants of the earth, and persuaded them to erect an image in honour of the beast which had been wounded by the sword and yet lived. It was allowed to give breath to the image of the beast, so that it could even speak and cause all who would not worship the image to be put to death.
Revelation 13:14-15 (REB)
I don’t want to spend a great deal of time discussing the approach I take to reading and understanding Revelation. I wrote a study guide for that purpose. The short version is simple. I think we miss a great deal of the message of Revelation when we spend our time looking for specific historical referents for the symbols. It’s possible to come up with a plausible scheme. In fact, many sort of plausible schemes have been proposed. But nobody has managed something truly definitive.
I lean closest to the allegorical approach, but more precisely I believe that through imagery that is worked into a tapestry Revelation presents us we a number of principles which are very broadly applicable. I describe this in terms of a theme park in my study guide. It’s not a sequential story; rather, it’s an interacting set of scenes.
In this passage we can work with a number of questions, such as who is the dragon and the beast that comes up out of the earth. Those questions are good, but I’m skipping over them to this one: Why does the beast that rises up out of the earth want to make this image? The beast is performing miracles, and through this miraculous power, he creates an image, which in turn does other things.
Let’s take the simple answer: If you’re a beast, you want an image.
We tend to think of the image as a statue or some other sort of representation of what a person or thing is. But an image can also be something deceptive, something that helps you think more favorably of what that image represents. The image of the beast is less beastly than the beast itself. That is its value.
In an age of political operatives and media manipulation, we should be able to feel this one in our bones. A politician has his or her own personality, but then through political operatives he or she can also have an image. Polish up the image but leave the reality tarnished. Or for the reverse, one’s opponents or enemies can create a false negative image. In either case, the “beast” doesn’t look like its “image” and vice versa.
So what image do we display through our churches? When someone looks at the reality, is the beast behind the image, or the lamb?
How’s that for jumping the rails?
I think it’s a valid jump. Paul tells us that we are the body of Christ. Jesus told the disciples that they would be known as His disciples by their love for one another.
Many people are going to form their opinion of who Jesus is by viewing Him in us. There can be a lamb behind the image just as well as there can be a best. An image can be transparent, letting people see the reality, just as it can conceal the beast that’s behind it.
If you read Revelation 12 & 13 you’ll get some good ideas about what beast-like behavior is, and why this 2nd beast needs an image to do its will.
The question is whether we will allow Christ to be seen through us and through the way we “do church.”
I think I’ll follow this up with a post on ways in which our churches can take on the image of the world around, to the detriment of our witness.
Featured image AI generated via Jetpack
