Maggie was an example of someone whose perspective on faith had been poisoned by inauthentic Christians. I met her several years ago after she ventured, very tentatively, into Willow Creek Community Church, her first visit to any religious institution since childhood. Slowly she became a spiritual seeker and she wrote me this troubling letter about her earlier experiences with Christians:

The Christianity I grew up with was so confusing to me even as a child. People said one thing but did another. They appeared very spiritual in public but were abusive in private. What they said and what they did never fit. There was such a discrepancy that I came to hate Christianity, and I did not want to be associated with a church.

Can you see how cosmetic Christians had derailed her journey toward God? But she went on to explain that she had met some Christians at our church and even got involved in a small group of seekers that was led by a Christian couple. She wrote,

So when I came to Willow Creek and to my small group,

I needed gentleness. I needed to be able to ask any question.

I needed to have my questions taken seriously. I needed to be treated with respect and validated.

Most of all, I needed to see people whose actions match what they say. I am not looking for perfect, but I am looking for real. Integrity is the word that comes to mind. I need to hear real people talk about real life; and I need to know if God is—or can be—a part of real life.

Does he care about the wounds I have? Does he care that I need a place to live? Can I ever be a whole and healthy person? I have asked questions like these. And I have not been laughed at or ignored or invalidated. I have not been pushed or pressured in any way.

Then she added this:

I don’t understand the caring I’ve received. I don’t understand that the leaders don’t seem afraid of questions. They don’t say things like, “You just have to have faith” or “You need to pray more.” They don’t seem to be afraid to tell who they are. They seem genuine.

This young woman ended her letter with a beautiful poem she had written. It contains the heartfelt sentiments of a spiritual seeker toward those of us who are Christians. Read these words carefully, and as you do, imagine that this precious person is speaking directly to you. Because she is.

Do you know
do you understand
that you represent
Jesus to me?

Do you know
do you understand
that when you treat me with gentleness,
it raises the question in my mind
that maybe He is gentle, too.
Maybe He isn’t someone
who laughs when I am hurt.

Do you know
do you understand
that when you listen to my questions
and you don’t laugh,
I think, “What if Jesus is interested in me, too?”

Do you know
do you understand
that when I hear you talk about arguments
and conflict and scars from your past,
I think, “Maybe I am just a regular person
instead of a bad, no-good little girl
who deserves abuse.”

If you care,
I think maybe He cares—
and then there’s this flame of hope
that burns inside of me
and for a while
I am afraid to breathe
because it might go out.

Do you know
do you understand
that your words are His words?
Your face, His face
to someone like me?

Please, be who you say you are.
Please, God, don’t let this be another trick.
Please let this be real.
Please.

Do you know
do you understand
that you represent
Jesus to me?

Tears pooled in my eyes as I read that poem for the first time. I felt the sting of regret over times when I know spiritual seekers have looked at my life and not seen Jesus. I grieved for the times when my callousness or smugness or indifference may have slowed someone in their spiritual journey. And I resolved once more just to be genuine—with God and with others.

I felt that Maggie’s words were so powerful that I wanted to read them to our entire congregation. So I called her one evening to get her permission.

“Maggie, I loved your poem,” I told her. “Would it be all right if I read it at the services this weekend?”

“Oh, Lee,” she said, “haven’t you heard?”

My heart sank. What had happened now? Had she encountered someone who had been like salt that stung or light that glared? Had someone’s hypocrisy chased this young woman away from God once again?

“No, Maggie,” I replied with trepidation in my voice. “I haven’t heard. Tell me what happened.”

“No, you don’t understand—it’s good news,” she said. “A few nights ago I gave my life to Jesus!”

I almost jumped out of my chair. “Maggie, that’s terrific!” I exclaimed. “That’s the best news I’ve had in a long time. Tell me—what piece of evidence convinced you that the Bible is true? What fact did you uncover that finally established for you that the Resurrection was real?” After all, those were the kind of intellectual issues that played a big role in leading me to faith.

“No, it wasn’t like that for me,” she replied. “You see, I just met a whole bunch of people who were like Jesus to me.” She paused as if to shrug. “That’s all it took,” she said.

(Lee Strobel, “God’s Outrageous Claims,” (1997) Zondervan.)

I just watched Phillip Jensen answer “Have you been baptised by the Holy Spirit”.

It’s very good. And yet…
I can’t help but think his second ‘error’ is actually the plain teaching of Scripture. Of course, you cannot be Christian without the Spirit, what we are talking about here is whether you can have the Spirit – be Christian -  without being Spirit-baptised.

I’ll explain this more below.

Read the rest of this entry »

Interesting case unfolding in the UK/Laos – a pregnant woman facing the death penalty for drug smuggling. I mean, it’s tragic rather than interesting, but people’s reactions are interesting:

Ronke Oseni, 21, a psychology student at Kingston University, has known Orobator for 11 years… She said: “There is no one there to visit her, no one to talk to, she doesn’t speak the language. I’m really scared for her. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.

“The punishment does not fit the crime. They want to shoot her but what about the baby?”

Would it be unjust for the baby to die with her, supposing she is guilty?

Supporters of abortion: do you feel like this would be unjust? (Be honest – what is your gut reaction?) Why/why not?
The baby is within the legal term for an abortion – in fact, if she was back in the UK the government would pay for it. It looks like she may be a rape victim. The baby is no less innocent than any other aborted baby.

In related news, Craig Carter observes that doctors performed a heart procedure on a fetus inside the womb to save the baby’s life … yet the mother would still have been legally able to kill it for a month afterwards!

God’s taught me 2 amazing things lately.

1. I knew God was a God of joy. I have immense joy from God, who is both its source and inventor. I find much joy delighting in God. But one thing never occurred to me before. God is joyful. In fact, God is the most joyful being in existence! This blew my conception of God totally out of the water: I tended to see God as nice, kind, loving, even able to be pleased – but ultimately, cold. How cool is it that God enjoys things!

2. While driving home last night, I was listening to the local Christian radio station.  This is often a depressing experience. But I heard this song:

I wish I could have been there
To see Your first step, hear Your very first word
Tell me, did You ever fall and scrape Your knee?
Did You know Your wounds would one day heal the world?
For just one moment
I wish I could have seen You growing
Learning the ways of a carpenter’s son
Just a little boy gazing at the stars
Did You remember creating every one?
If you passed by, would I have seen a child or a King?

Would I have known?
I wish I could have been there
My only wish is to see You, face to face
Wish I could have been there
Just to see You, Jesus, face to face

And the question came into my mind, “Do I wish I could have been there?”

I was devastated by my answer. How could I claim to love Jesus, if I don’t wish I could have spent time with him? Which of my friends do I claim to love but have no desire to be with? Does this mean I love what Jesus did, what he achieved… but not Jesus himself?

Realisation. Relief. Amazement. The reason I couldn’t answer yes was not that I didn’t love him… it was that I didn’t think of Jesus as a person. Jesus is a topic, a subject of conversation, an idea to be debated. All the joy I’ve found in Jesus has been in Jesus as a theology and a doctrine.

Jesus is a person.

Jesus is a person.

Wow.

Praise Him!

Damo, a good mate from church, has been blogging about godliness. He takes a knife to music:

Everywhere and everyday we listen to music. Do we truly listen to the lyrics?, or just keep listening because it has a good beat. We as a Christian community need to think to ourselves, is this really what I want to listen to? Too often these days music is filled with crude language, sex implications and just plain bad messages.

Good call.

I usually nod approvingly when people talk about this. Don’t those other people who listen to sex-fueled, pleasure-driven, hate-filled garbage know how dangerous it is? Of course, since I don’t like hip-hop (except, of course, Lecrae) and positively detest music-in-a-can pop music, I would never need to repent, would I?

I mean, really, what harm could a bit of Jack Johnson do? The surfy rock I like to listen to is too chilled, too mellow to cause problems. They have good attitudes towards women, they don’t swear, they (by and large) don’t do drugs… heck, they just seem to be enjoying life.

Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It’s the simple things in life, like when and where
We didn’t have no internet
But man I never will forget
The way the moonlight shined upon her hair
(Kid Rock – All Summer Long)

And then, one day I realised what my perspective on life has become. My ideal lifestyle is living simply by a quiet beach with good surf, spending all day surfing or chillaxing in a hammock listening to my beautiful wife play a guitar, then spending the evening sitting around an open fire with a couple of close friends, maybe a guitar or some bongo action, singing songs and telling stories, drinking wine straight from a bottle (in moderation), watching the flickering reflection in her eyes. Early to bed, up again at dawn the next day for some more waves. Not a care in the world, just a warm contentment.

And we were trying different things
We were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking ’bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
(Kid Rock – All Summer Long)

It’s not off-the-wall debauchery. It’s not hard-core crime. It’s not even rebellious. It’s just good-natured fun, right?

But I’ve been deceived. I’ve been sold a false ideal. That chilled, cruisy, contented life doesn’t exist. Around that campfire is jealousy, worry, unsatisfaction. If it is ever acheived (and I think I’ve come close, on occasion), it doesn’t last forever. But more than that, it’s unfulfilling. Would I really be satisfied to sit around a fire for my whole life? Nice as it might be, don’t I want my life to mean something?

Now nothing seems as strange as when the leaves began to change
Or how we thought those days would never end
Sometimes I’ll hear that song and I’ll start to sing along
And think man I’d love to see that girl again
(Kid Rock – All Summer Long)

At its core, this is why: we were not just created to sit around a camp fire. We were created for so much more! We were created for relationship with our Creator, and to worship Him with our whole life by loving Him, following Him, and serving Him. There are oppressed people to liberate, discouraged people to encourage, hurting people to heal, lonely people to love, and, above all, lost people to save. How much more grand an ideal is this

But if we are the Body
Why aren’t His arms reaching
Why aren’t His hands healing
Why aren’t His words teaching
And if we are the Body
Why aren’t His feet going
Why is His love not showing them there is a way
(Casting Crowns – If We Are The Body)

And now I see: music doesn’t need to be crude and rude to be dangerous. What are you listening to? Is it creating false-ideals that bring discontent to steal your joy, and distract you from your mission? Let’s look instead to the glorious freedom of serving Christ with every ounce of our being, pouring out our life for His glory, as we await His return and that highest of praises, Well done, my good and faithful servant.

I take the shadow of the cross as my abiding place
I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of his face
Content to let the world go by, to know no gain or loss
My sinful self my only shame, my glory all the cross
(Beneath The Cross of Jesus, Elizabeth Clephane, 1872)

If you only read one article this Easter, read this one. (h/t Murray)

Dale wants Jesus’ glory to be known:

“Oh that our hearts would be captured with a desire to know Him better, and to love Him more, and to have the same for our brothers and sisters. And that the blind, those near us and far away, would have the veil removed so that they may see His glory and be saved from the wrath that awaits their ignorance of His might. Let this be our prayer.”

• Are we born believing in God? – BBC (If the audio is not working, read a report here.)
• All talks from the 2009 Acts 29 Boot Camp at Mars Hill Church
• Talks from the 2009 Ligioner Ministry Conference: The Holiness of God
• www.PuritanSermons.com
• George Whitefield – Dave blogs a bio.

An insightful kid in Sunday school this week asked “If our money comes from God, then what about poor people?”

Good question. Here are some things to help us make sense of poverty:

a) God doesn’t owe anything to anyone. Everyone gets more than they deserve, which is instant judgment and death. The fact that they’re still alive, have families and the opportunity to be saved through Jesus – that’s already more than we deserve. (This should move us to great gratitide that we have received so much more than we deserve too)

b) The injustice is caused by us. Its true God chooses where we’ll be born, and so causes people to be born into poverty – but that poverty only exists as a result of sin (eg greed, lack of compassion). (This should convict us of our own sin & move us to repent)

c) It hurts God more than it hurts us. God cares about the poor. He loves them more than we do, and so it hurts Him more than it hurts us. (This should move us to worship God for his compassion)

Which leads us to ask – what has he done about it, and what will he do about it?

d) God has already done something about it. We’re sinful, so while ever we’re around and sinful, so will poverty. We can’t fix it alone. We need someone to take away sin. When Jesus died for sin, it purchased these remedies:
i) it meets the greatest need of poor people, which is not food or money but forgiveness (Mark 2:1-11)
ii) it allows us sinners to put sin to death, giving Christians strength and motivation to do something about poverty.
iii) it made the way for us to enter his ultimate plan:

e) The ultimate plan: what God will do about it. All things will be put right in the end. Those who have found forgiveness in Jesus will enjoy His company in heaven, where they will be healed: there will be no poverty, no tears, no death.
Those responsible for the injustice of poverty will receive what they deserve (unless Jesus paid for it in their place). Justice will be done and there will be healing.

f) Side note: in addition to being a result of sin, poverty exists to point us to the Cross. It cries out to both the rich and the poor that there is something wrong with the world. To the rich, it shows us the depth of our sin and our need for a Saviour. And, for the poor, it drives them to the Cross because they cannot put their hope anywhere else.
 
Ultimately, the answer to this question, and any question, is the gospel.

If you want to read about this more, grab a copy of If I Was God I’d End All the Pain (John Dickson) or, for something more meaty, How Long, O Lord (D. A. Carson).

Discovered something today that will only excited students or scholars of ancient greek – but it will start these people frothing at the mouth.

Imagine… on your phone… both editions of Liddell and Scott’s Greek-English lexicon (“The Great Scot” and “Middle Liddell”) plus full morphological analysis. Free. Any (internet-capable) phone.

It’s fairly complicated:

1. Bookmark this link in your phone: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/morph.jsp
2. Done!

Enjoy

Breaking news! On The Voddy is going global:

Number 1 Video podcast in Religion and Spirituality!

And in all Religion podcasts (audio and video) it’s being beaten only by the Bible and the Dris.

\\ Update: Contrary to Dave’s estimate of 600th, On The Voddy made the top 100 Video podcasts of any category!

The craziest thing is this came after the worst episode ever! (which is sort of like saying the slowest ferrari ever). Best moment: Dave’s facial expressions during Dan’s rant.

subscribe in iTunes | youtube | www.onthevoddy.com | www.fervr.net | twitter | contact

This is a great question… from a 9 year-old. What amazes me is how triumphantly it is paraded by adults!

Consider this article. (h/t VK):

… there is an obvious, gaping flaw in this commenter’s logic, well-known to skeptics for years: if you ask where the Big Bang came from, why can’t you ask the same thing of God?

You can.

When a person like this is asked who or what created God, the standard answer is that God always existed. But why can’t we say the same about the Universe itself?

Very good so far. We can say the universe always existed. In fact, scientists did in Newton’s time. So we’re agreed that there’s nothing wrong with saying something always existed? Good. So it is with God.

But the problem for the universe is that science points in quite a different direction – an uncomfortable one, for many. It points to the universe having begun – at least as we know it.

And to attack the question “Where did the Big Bang come from?” is to miss the point. We’re perfectly happy to accept the possibility that there existed for all eternity past a singularity from which the Big Bang banged. The real question is “What caused the Big Bang?” What happened to make the singularity explode?

In the formulation of William Lane Craig, the assertion is this: “Whatever begins to exist has a cause.”

Here the always-rational, always-skeptical scientist leaps off into an imaginary world where they invent invisible objects billions of lightyears across, with no proof whatsoever. Take the article above, for example:

It’s entirely possible the Universe is a part of a larger structure, a metaverse, if you will, that always existed and always will.

Oh the irony.