If we really had the guts, some of us would have to admit our faith is cheap.

Never tested.

Rarely wrestled with.

Never sacrificed for.

Just handed to us. By our family.  Our surroundings.  Our culture.

Not an encounter with God. Just something we do.  Our lens for thinking about and understanding the world.

And like a leaf being swept down the white-capped rapids of a raging river, our faith is just going where the motion naturally takes us (or sometimes leaves us drowning against a protruding rock).

Cheap faith.

In that context, the question “why?” is an assumption-bucking question.  It’s paddling upstream.  Swimming against the flow.

“Why?” is powerful.  It can also be incredibly dangerous.

In the hands of a cynic it can breed a sense of meaninglessness, contempt, and even less trust (if that’s possible for a cynic).  But asked with the right motive, “why?” can bring strength, deep conviction, and even greater freedom.

This week at CityCom, we launched a brand new series aimed at asking “why?”  (Or in our case, “Y.” You know we just can’t be normal).  Click here to hear the audio of the opening message called “Y Ask Why?”

Jesus loved to ask “why?“  But unlike the religious leaders of His day, His “whys?” weren’t aimed at protecting cultural assumptions.  Jesus’ questions cut His listeners to the core and exposed their motives.  With Jesus, it’s not just the action but the driving force that really matters.

What’s your why?

Why do you believe what you believe?

Why don’t you believe what you don’t believe?

Asked with the right motivation and within the scope of true community (like drinking alone, asking why alone may be a sign of trouble ahead), the question “why” will destroy cheap faith. Because Jesus Christ is not a philosophy to be embraced, He’s a “Person” to be encountered.

And He’s not afraid of your “why?”  In fact, He just might meet you there.

Shame comes in all shapes and sizes:

A big zit on your nose.

A past full of brokenness and abuse.

A rip in the seam of your pants.

A failed marriage.

Silly or serious, we’ve all felt it. The exposure of a vulnerability or apparent shortcoming that drives us to run away. To cover up. To hide. And unfortunately, The Church (my church, even me personally) can foster environments of shame, even when we’re not intentionally trying to.

It makes sense. The Church, a place of grace, hope, and unconditional love, is also an environment full of expectations. Standards of behavior naturally emerge in any culture, but engaging in Church culture comes with a built-in assumption of moral superiority. We profess faith in God and innately feel our lives should reflect that (even if we don’t).

And while some shame is understandably innate, some is undeniably overt. We’d be lying to ourselves if we didn’t admit there are many in the Church who willingly use shame as a means to control. To maintain power over people. To protect their personal preferences. To manipulate others towards their desired outcomes.

Innate or overt, when we fall short (which we always do), shame moves in. Becomes a constant companion. And shame is a horrific house guest.

God deals in conviction, not shame. Shame is based in condemnation, in pointing out deficiencies with the intent of rejecting, judging, or looking down on another. And Jesus didn’t come into the word to do that:

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17 NLT)

Yet in so many church environments shame is still a primary motivator, filling our sanctuaries with guilty people. Hiding people. Manipulated people. Self-righteous people. Frightened people. Fake people. Or in more and more cases, empty seats.

So how do we know when God is convicting or when shame is condemning? Here’s some thoughts:

Shame is an ego-protection mechanism that focuses on how we appear to others.
Conviction is an inward re-alignment with who God is and has called us to be.

Shame conforms us to man-made expectations.
Conviction leads us to repentance.

Shame causes us to create false perceptions of reality.
Conviction leads us to openly face who we really are.

Shame manipulates and imprisons.
Conviction heals and frees.

Shame misuses aspects of truth to manage and control.
Conviction reconnects us to absolute truth.

Shame formulates outward behavioral modification.
Conviction births true inward transformation.

Shame pushes us towards self-protection.
Conviction pushes us towards Christ.

Shame asks us to do the work.
Conviction drives us towards the One who already did it all.

Which one is driving you? What is being fostered in your environments? What do you think?

As a parent, I long for my children to embrace Biblical values.  My values.  I even pray they’ll become inseparably grafted into their DNA.  Good things. God-things.

That they’ll be drawn to the right kind of friends.

That they’ll do well in school.

That they’ll have wisdom to make good decisions.

That they’ll connect to the local church.

That they’ll be smart with their money.

That they’ll discover their God-given gifts and an expression for them.

That they’ll find a God-fearing spouse.

That they’ll save sex for marriage.

That they’ll stay away from drugs and never abuse alcohol.

That they’ll learn to talk to God and gain regular insight from the Bible.

That they’ll love Jesus.

As strange as this may sound, I think it’s possible to become everything on the list above and completely miss becoming true followers of Jesus Christ. Yep.  Really.

I even believe it’s possible to “love Jesus” without truly following Him. We see it throughout Scripture.  Crowds surrounding Him.  Pressing in on all sides in ways that would make the Jonas Brothers jealous.

For inspiration.  For healing.  For food.  With needs (and some very legitimate).  With hopes that Jesus would come alongside the picture they had painted for their lives and give it a boost, fill in the gaps, create some magic.  They loved Him (at least in their understanding of what it meant to love).

But few followed.  Really followed.  It just cost too much.

So if I really want what’s best for my kids, I think I it might be time to change my prayers to different things. More difficult things.

That God would crush them.

That pain would refine them.

That they would dream God’s dreams and not just an American one.

That they would be willing to give up everything to follow Jesus.

That they would completely die to themselves in order to find true life in Christ.

That they will be alive and not just “good.”

Scary stuff.  Radical.  Dangerous.  A loss of control.  Counter-culture, even within the church (maybe especially within the church).

But longings I need to pursue, and not just for my children, but for myself as well.  Maybe you do, too?

Because it’s all too possible to embrace Biblical values from the outside-in, without ever truly becoming a follower of Jesus Christ from the inside-out. To embody, or retrain behavior, without ever truly submitting the will. To be “good,” without ever truly being alive.

For the record, I still long for that first list.  I just want it to grow through the soil of the second. Never at the expense of it.

So what do you think?  Is it possible to embrace the values of the Bible and completely miss Jesus in the process?

After a week to reflect on my Israel journey, I’ve summed the adventure into three takeaways. Takeaways you can process yourself, even if you’ve never stepped foot out of your own hometown:

A STATEMENT:

Standing in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, I watched lines of people stop to touch, kiss, and pray on a giant rock slab. This stone, according to tradition, is the place Jesus body was prepared for burial after He was taken from the cross (we later found it was placed in the entryway during a 19th Century renovation of the church, but who really cares about details?).

After days of watching buses of tourists pile into these “holy sites,” and realizing my own propensity for getting caught up in the drama of these historic locations, I heard God make a clear statement from the vestibule of this Gothic church that will stay with me the rest of my life:

“Many people want the blessing of being where I’ve been, but so few want to pay the price to follow me where I’m going.”

A QUESTION:

From the ruins of this Capernaum temple on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus spoke some of His most difficult words. Just days after He fed 5,000 people on a Galilean hillside with 5 loaves and 2 fish, He challenged many of these same people to embody the essence of Who He was, not only the blessing of what He could do for them.

Jesus loved to create unresolved tension.

After hearing these words, Scripture tells us “many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.“ It’s easy to look backward and wonder how anyone could have stood in the physical presence of the Messiah and walked away. But standing in these temple ruins where Jesus Himself had stood, I heard Him ask me the question:

“If you had been standing here in this temple that day, would you have stayed with me or left like so many others?”

A PERSON

I grew up in a charismatic church movement. And honestly, over time I grew to resent it. Because of what I experienced in many “spirit-filled” encounters, I pushed the Holy Spirit away. I despised the manipulation. The abuse. The emotionalism. All with little evidence of truly transformed lives.

So I rejected the Spirit, too. Not overtly. Subtly. In my heart.

But standing in the Upper Room, the ascribed location for Acts 2, I realized my prior experience was mis-informing my current reality. What I was rejecting was the man-made charismatic subculture, not the Holy Spirit Himself. That would be asinine!

Jesus promised the Spirit to bring transformation, power, and the miraculous into our lives. The desire and ability to follow after Him. He is meant to be a normal reality of everyday life, not some crazed, event-driven emotional pursuit.

Why would I allow man’s abuse cause me to reject that offer?

A statement. A Question. A Person. This is what I brought home from Israel. How does it resonate with you?

I don’t think I was the only Christian to bristle at conservative commentator Glenn Beck’s strong statements this past week against churches that support, or even use the term, social justice.

“I beg you, look for the words ‘social justice’ or ‘economic justice’ on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words [for Communism and Nazism]. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes!”
-Glenn Beck

I’m a white, middle-class, suburban-raised, Evangelical christian, so you can quickly deduce toward which side of the political aisle I naturally lean.  And while I do understand what’s at the core of Mr. Beck’s concerns, I think he’s wrong.  Or at best misinformed. Although I’m sure I could never out-argue a pundit of his wit and verbal capacity, I at least want to share my own personal awakening as it pertains to the issue of social justice.

People are broken.  And spiritual leaders, unfortunately far too often, fall victim to using their influence to manipulate God-fearing people towards their own human, political perspectives. There’s no doubt that some pastors push social justice, and the ultimate “God-said” trump card, to promote liberal personal agendas.

But so do conservatives pastors.

And rather than digging for God’s truth, we use Him as as circumstantial support for our selfish motivations.  We form sides aimed at protecting our way of life, rather than submitting to The Way that is greater.

Here’s the (probably) overly-simplified way I see it:  Conservatives desire to preserve personal freedom.  Liberals wants to mandate universal fairness. And depending on which side of the equation benefits us most, we go to battle.  But what if there’s another way? A third option?

The Bible unfolds God’s perspective, His ideals, His Kingdom. The way I read it, God is all about freedom and all about fairness. The catch?  What happens when free people willfully choose to use their freedom to serve one another?

“It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will your precious freedom be then?” (Gal. 5:13-15 MSG)

Mandated justice never works. It spirals towards corruption. Even God Himself doesn’t mandate we follow Him (without choice there is no love).  That’s why I love America, because this freedom gives us unbridled opportunity to live out God’s Kingdom calling.  But only if we choose it.  When we willfully submit to serve, we truly become free. We willfully begin to make right the injustices that permeate the world.

Let’s be clear, the Kingdom of God is certainly not only about social justice (if it were, every secular Hollywood mogul and rock star would have achieved sainthood).  But to ignore the justice thread and call to serve the poor woven throughout Scripture is plain ignorance. Dangerous.  Incomplete.  A puzzle with missing pieces.  A stool with missing legs.

So here’s the ultimate question:  Are we building God’s Kingdom or just fighting to preserve a way of life? What are you willfully submitting to?

I don’t always like answering that one either, but it’s worth asking.

Responding to my desires is easy. What’s inside of me just naturally comes out.  It doesn’t take much thought, energy, or discipline to do what I want to do.  My essence just responds. It’s natural.  My desires are formed by my DNA, my culture, my socio-economic upbringing, my life experiences.  Lots of things.  Unfortunately, those “lots of things” also includes my fallen, broken, sinful nature.  In that way, living from what I want is incredibly dangerous.

I have other options, too.  I can live under the weight of obligation. Completely opposite of my desires, living by someone else’s expectations is outside-in, guilt-driven behavior modification. You know what I mean.  Maybe you’re 28 years old with 2 kids of your own, but you still hear the voice of your un-approving mother in the back of your head (or maybe in your actual ears).  Your actions still reflect your desire to please her, and you live under the intense scrutiny of her obligation on your life.

(Incidentally, that’s what religion does, too. It obligates.  Sets up impossible outward-focused expectations while simultaneously offering no hope for actually attaining them.  And I know there are lots of you out there that live under those very real and very guilt-filled religious chains. Some are just afraid to admit it because you’re heritage and your understanding of God are all wrapped up in the lie. It’s OK, you can be honest here.)

What if there’s a third option? A door number 3?

Mark 1:12 says “The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go into the wilderness…” (NLT)

At first glance, the word compel says force (in fact that’s in the actual definition).  But if you look closer, there is an element of compulsion that gives a different vibe.  To compel actually means to exert an “irresistible force.” Almost as if it causes me to drop my defenses and willfully subvert or push beyond what’s naturally in my DNA.

Being compelled is completely different than guilt-ridden obligation.  It’s also very different than surrendering to my natural, in-born desires.  It’s responding willfully, not from desire or obligation, but because I love, and trust, and believe in the One Who is compelling me. He’s an irresistible force.

I may not always want what He wants, but I do want Him.

Do you think Jesus desired to journey into the desert for 40 days with no food?  Doubtful.  But I don’t think He felt obligated either.  He was willfully responding to the irresistible force of the Father’s love. He was compelled.

How do you live? By what just feels natural?  From your in-born desires?  Out of obligation?  Guilty “hoop-jumping” to keep others happy with you (including God)?

What about door #3?

I’m honored to participate in the “blog tour” for Mark Batterson’s new book, PRIMAL.  My review of his challenging new book is below.  Check it out (the post and the book).

As far as I know, there is no such thing as “C.A.” (Churchies Anonymous), but maybe there should be. There are undoubtedly a lot of you like me who were raised in the subculture of the Western Evangelical American Church.  You know, that subtle, religious dance, where Christianity is defined by a set of behavioral standards and consistent Sunday attendance.

And while I really do cherish the way I was raised, I often wonder how much of my understanding of God was shaped merely by a set of cultural norms rather than a true and personal encounter with Jesus Christ. Many days I feel like I’m still waking up.

That‘s why I love Mark Batterson’s new book PRIMAL: A Quest for the Lost Soul of Christianity. This book takes dead aim at humanity’s uncanny ability to over-complicate God. To trade in the freedom of Christ for the layers of religiosity He actually came to unravel, all in our vain attempts to find Him in the first place.  In PRIMAL, Mark gets back to the simple essence of what it means to love God.

Mark is a “churchie” like me.  Raised in it, married into it, studied it, built it.  But he’s a church “insider” that’s not satisfied with simply preserving the status quo. Mark’s not afraid of the hard questions, yet he asks them with such dignity and class you feel like he’s giving you a high five while he’s really kicking your butt. Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

“The temptation is to ask this question: what’s wrong with this generation? But that is the wrong question. The right question is this: what’s wrong with the church?”

“As we grow in our love relationship with God, we begin to empathize with God.  We feel what He feels.”

“It seems to me that we have spiritualized the American Dream or materialized the gospel.”

“When we lose our sense of wonder, what we really lose is our soul.  Our lack of wonder is really a lack of love.”

“I’m afraid we’ve unintentionally fostered a subtle form of spiritual codependency in our churches.  It’ is easy to let others take responsibility for what should be our responsibility.”

“Too many of us try to understand truth in the static state.  We want to understand it without doing anything about it, but it doesn’t work that way. You want to understand it?  Then obey it.”

“The truth is that most of us are already educated way beyond the level of our obedience.  We learn more and do less, thinking all the while that we’re growing spiritually.”

“Which do you love more: your dream or God?”

“This book is an invitation to be part of something that is bigger than you, more important than you, and longer lasting than you.  It’s an invitation to be part of the next reformation.“

PRIMAL reads quickly and is compiled in powerful, poignant, yet small, almost blog-like chunks. In fact, this book really seems to be further development of many of Mark’s posts from the last few years.  It reflects an honest passion for Christ beyond just being a church leader (as well as an obvious fascination for scientific thought and studies).

I highly recommend it as a first read for 2010. It’s a great book for anyone, but it found a special connection with me as a church “insider” constantly looking to escape the complicated layers that religious culture has quietly coated me with over the years.  If you want something real, search for something primal.

Check it out. Let me know what you think.

This question plagues me: do our churches better reflect Jesus’ perspective on His Kingdom, or our culture’s infrastructure of corporate America and organizational control?

I’m an organizational thinker by nature.  So before you assume I’m an anti-establishment, VW van-driving, dope-smoking peacenik, you should know I highly value an intentional approach to everything I do (heck, even Jesus had the crowd of 5,000 sit down in groups of 50 before He miraculously fed them with the 5 loaves and 2 fish).  Structure isn’t our enemy, but I do wonder if it’s become our idol.

Check out a few of the things Jesus said His Kingdom is like:

1. A small seed that is planted and grows into a large tree (Mark 4:30-32)
2. A hidden treasure that must be searched for and found (Matthew 13:44)
3. Yeast that’s kneaded methodically into bread-dough (Luke 13:20)

Interestingly enough, He never referred to His Kingdom as any of the following:

1. A Fortune 500 company (although Jesus was hardly unintentional with His actions)
2. An educational institution (although Jesus definitely was a teacher)
3. An NFL franchise (although Jesus is undoubtedly an Indianapolis Colts fan)

God values order and intentionality, but sometimes I wonder if we’ve built structure as a cheap substitute to the messy work of getting personally involved in other people’s lives. Organization centralizes power, makes it easier to point to what I “own” or can take credit for, gives us a system to push people into.  And the dirty little secret, makes it possible to collect the money (you were already thinking it, I might as well say it).

Or maybe it’s even simpler than that.  Maybe it’s just because that’s what we see around us, because that’s how “our world” works.  And it’s easier to respond with what we know, what our culture and history tells us, than to search out what God really desires.

I don’t know if I’m right.  Just something I’m wrestling with.  Have we missed the mark, or is this just a case of unnecessarily taking easy pot-shots at the American church?  What do you think?

“Jesus told them, ‘you’re all going to feel that your world is falling apart and that it’s my fault.’” (Mark 14:27 MSG)

Ever feel that way?  Like the closer you get to God, the more chaos it brings? Not exactly a great church-marketing strategy.  But the reality is our western, capitalistic church mindset wrongly equates God’s peace with ease, and His blessing with comfort, wealth, and the fulfillment of our personal, self-promoting dreams and desires.

The closer Jesus got to fulfilling his ultimate purpose, the less circumstances made sense to those around Him. And we see this reality unfold with uncomfortable clarity through Jesus’ disciples.

These men invested three years following this fascinating, controversial figure.  He added purpose to their normal, everyday lives, set them up with a new life trajectory, with meaning.  And then just as it seemed all their visions and desires were about to be fulfilled, He’s arrested, tried, and crucified. He died.

Chaos. And it almost seemed as if that’s what He wanted, like He willfully allowed it to happen (um, because He did).

Jesus rocks our worldview. He shakes our assumptions and perspectives to the core.  We like power, control, comfort, predictability. Yet we find following Jesus (really following Him, not just making Him part of your culture or weekly schedule or to-do list check-off) requires us to give all that away.  He replaces it with indescribable peace, joy, and purpose, but the cost is everything.  Everything.

And most days I’m just not willing to pay it. Just being honest.

Have I just brought Jesus into the dialog to make my love of self more palatable, justifiable, culturally acceptable, easier to swallow? Or am I really willing to give up control, power, perspectives, my way of seeing the world?

Following Jesus is the most peacefully destabilizing decision you will ever make. He will undoubtedly make you feel like your world is falling apart, and that it’s all His fault.  And although something in you is begging to run away, to keep control, to stay in power, there’s another part of you that longs for the adventure, that wants desperately to surrender to His game plan, that knows stepping into the uncontrollable chaos is actually the way to real life.

“If people can’t see what God is doing they stumble all over themselves; but when they attend to what He reveals they are most blessed.” -Prov. 29:18

If I’m totally honest (and I try to be most of the time…really, I do), I spend a big chunk of my time pursuing what I naturally see inside this head of mine. I can’t help it.  The vision I have for my future has been shaped by my parents, my socio-economic upbringing, my sub-culture, the friends I grew up with, my experiences, the voices I’ve listened to.  My expectations and assumptions for life are there, under the surface, triggering my impulses and shaping my decisions, even when I’m completely oblivious to their power. That’s not wrong.  It’s human.

But if I continue down that road of complete honesty (because apparently all my other posts are full of deception?), I spend a lot of time doing my own thing. I allow my instincts and culture to shape my life’s direction, and then invite God along for the ride.  I’m really good at it.  I can even spiritually spin it, use grandiose God-terminology, Scripture even, to make myself (and those around me) think I’m after God’s vision and not my own.  (Sometimes I even believe my own stories).

And that makes me tired. I get worn out trying to manufacture energy, create growth, draw attention, maintain what I have.  My life.  My vision.  My game plan.  Mine.

I think there are a lot of tired people in this world. Tired from chasing the American dream, hiding consumerism in words like “responsibility,” living under our culture’s expectations and obligations, religious duty, cloaking self-absorption in God-language and spiritual vernacular.

What would happen if we learned to stop and listen? To absorb?  To allow ourselves to truly be transformed by the values and desires of God’s Kingdom?  To “attend to what He reveals?” What if we learned to align ourselves with what God was already doing?

What if we learned to ask, and then really listened and responded to what God revealed about:

• Our families?
• Our marriages?
• The way we spend our money?
• Where we live?
• Our most important relationships?
• His heart for justice?
• His plan for our city?

Something is already formulating these visions. Getting a glimpse of what God is already doing will not happen naturally.  We have to be proactive in pursuing, uncovering, listening, surrendering…and then we flat out have to find the guts to respond. Most of the big decisions we make in life aren’t complicated, they’re just very costly.  A lot of times, I’m just not willing to pay the price (yeah, I admit it).

What would happen if we all learned to “attend to what He reveals?“  What if we got in line with what He is already doing?  Are you willing to pay the price?  Yeah, I’m not always sure I am either.