Saturday, April 28, 2012

Cardboard Church

{Friends, if you haven’t seen the video Caine’s Arcade yet, view it below or here.  You can also view it at this website.  The site has follow-up info, as you will likely want to read how the story has continued. The video is 10 minutes, but more worth your time than any of my commentary below.  So, do yourself a favor, and watch it.  It will inspire you!}

I love the story of Caine and his arcade.  It really got me thinking about a few things related to our lives, especially as Christians, serving in churches today:

First, it made me celebrate the call of the hidden faithful.  All the small church pastors showing up each weekend, preaching to a few, as if it were a thousand.  All the moms serving their kids every day, giving up their own pursuits to encourage the next generation.  All the troops going overseas each year, putting their lives on hold to protect ours.  All the artists, writers, and talents laboring away at their trade, waiting for the day when their Nirvan will show up, and their work will be seen and known.  All those obscure, overlooked, hidden treasures out there—praying that what is done in secret shall be proclaimed from the rooftops.  Who don’t have the money, fame, resources, or success.  But who are using what they have, working just as hard, turning water into wine—making cardboard into cathedrals.

Next, it made me think about the reality of the local church.  Church is a serious thing, but sometimes we take ourselves too seriously.  Really, every church is just a shadow of the real substance.  Every weekend is just a dress rehearsal for the big day—when we finally worship around God’s throne.  Our churches are just cardboard cut-outs: no matter how big our building, no matter what the property value.  It’s a drop in the bucket compared to the worth of His heavenly City.  And the Church is not the walls.  {In fact, one famous New Zealand cathedral in Christchurch has decided to rebuild… out of cardboard!}  We pray that our weekend arcade will attract the one, who will tell the many—who will all come and play and appreciate what we have built together on this side of eternity.  But we will still be a paper mache of the New Jerusalem.  And let’s not try to pretend otherwise.  Our foolishness shames the wisdom of this world.  It’s a beautiful thing, as it is.  And it can be loved and enjoyed, just the same.

Finally, it reminded me to be moved by compassion.  When I was in South Korea, one of the associate ministers, Susie Park, left to plant a church.  Her and two friends were starting a “tent church.”  It was the first time I had heard of this concept.  Essentially, they would pray to hear about a family in need.  Then, they would go to that family and stay with them—to serve them, love them, help them, equip them.  They would meet in their living room for Bible study.  And they would be a presence in their lives until the family was strengthened.  She explained: “We will just keep serving them until God moves us to the next family.  They can come with us.  Or, if God leads, they can begin reaching out to others in their community.  Also, we can help connect them with a local pastor.”  This made sense.  Many people cannot leave their homes to attend church.  Why not bring church to them?  We may think of church as a moving experience, emotionally.  But hasn’t church historically been a “moving experience,” literally?  God led the people of Israel in this way, asking them to have tent church.  And Susie showed me how ministers of the early church also went from “house to house” (Acts 5:42; 20:20).  Likewise, Nirvan displayed a contagious compassion (literally meaning, “with heart”).  He went to Caine.  He got the word out.  He brought friends.  And they blessed Caine’s socks off—still are, in fact.  And it’s obvious Nirvan's joy has been increased in it.  He is having the time of his life, given someone else the start of his.

That’s the thing about cardboard.  It’s easily moveable.  And it made me excited to think of the possibilities—to one day bless someone like this, with a group of like-minded believers.  It made my heart shout: “Let’s be resourceful.  Let’s be real.  Let’s reach out.”  Let’s have cardboard church.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Gathering the Treasures

This week, pastors from around the globe gathered at a 3-day conference called Together for the Gospel (T4G). It features some of the best preachers in the country, some of the most brilliant minds in ministry, and some of the best resources available for pastors today. This is a great thing, I think. I expect that the Word was proclaimed and that Christ was treasured. Indeed, He is worthy.

I have personally benefited from this conference and others like it. Yet, this 3-day event also got me thinking about the witness of Saint Lawrence and wondering—do I know how to answer the question: “What (or who) are the treasures of the Church?”

Here’s the story: Around 250 AD, after the arrest and imprisonment of the pope and many priests, the prefect of Rome summoned Lawrence, a deacon, and ordered him to turn over, in the stern judge's words, "the treasures of the Church." Lawrence, known for his composure and wit, asked for three days to gather together the wealth. Lawrence then worked swiftly to distribute as much Church property to the poor and needy as intended, so as to prevent its being seized by the prefect.

On the third day, at the head of a small delegation, he presented himself to the prefect, as promised. When ordered to give up the treasures of the Church, he opened the doors to the treasury. There, he presented before them a gathering of the poor, the crippled, the blind, the suffering, the impoverished, the disabled, the widowed, the orphaned, the sick, and the elderly. The magistrate, enraged by the commotion, demanded that Lawrence explain himself, to which the deacon replied: "Sir, I have provided you with precisely what you have asked for." And then motioning towards the people he had gathered, Lawrence exclaimed, "These are the treasures of the Church!"

One account records him then declaring to the prefect, "The Church is truly rich, far richer than your emperor." This act of defiance led directly to his martyrdom. Most accounts say that he was roasted over a spit. He is recorded as telling his torturers: “I am done on this side! Turn me over.”

You see, if asked to present treasures in 3 days, I may produce a conference and say: “Look here—these gifted church leaders are the real treasures! They are the best the Church has to offer! Their preaching and success is surpassed by none!” That may be why many waited in line this week to take pictures and get autographs—for a chance just to be in the presence of those whom some describe as “celebrity pastors” and “Christian rock stars.” {Think more on this phenomenon here, here, and here.}

Truly, the Gospel is the treasure of the Church. And as Paul writes, “we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). How then do we best display this treasure? Jesus teaches us this: “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just” (Luke 14:12-14). That’s how to display grace: Something we didn’t earn. Something we can’t attribute to the gifts and skills of people. Given to those who simply cannot repay.

Again, I honor those leaders who faithfully preach the Word. They should be valued, as any member of the Body is. And I’m not here to take away from the God-given influence and impact of those sharing at T4G. There is a time and place for wonderful conferences, to bless and encourage and refuel. In fact, they debated the concept of “celebrity” during a panel at T4G itself!

Really, it’s not what any conference is about; it’s what I am about that troubles me. If given 3 days to display the treasures of the Church, what would I do? Would I organize an event full of the best leaders, teachers, thinkers, and singers? Or would I open the treasury to display the least of these?

Do I mostly value those who I deem “high up” and what they bring to me? Or do I look “below” and see the hidden diamonds, to be displayed and treasured, as trophies of the gospel? Do I view the “weaker members” as indispensable and bestow up them greater esteem (1 Corinthians 12)? Have I invited the poor to the seat of honor, or have I dishonored them (James 2)? Do I prefer the “healthy and wealthy”? Who do I gather and what do we gather for? What and who do I treasure? What sort of life and ministry do I put on display, as evidence of His grace and goodness?

For us all, I wonder if, in exalting size and success, notoriety and polish, we have tainted our value set in the church. Somewhere along the way, have we forgotten, overlooked, and abandoned those whom God treasures—and solely gather with and for those whom we feel best meet our own perceived needs? What prize are we pursuing exactly? These are questions worth pondering, I think…

What do you think? Does the church today give a witness to culture—in valuing the poor, outcast, and downtrodden—in treasuring those who cannot repay, in witness of the Gospel? Or has our culture now entered the church—in creating a celebrity culture—where we gather to pay homage to the talented and successful—in hopes that our own status is increased?

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Life Is a Gift. Even Single.

I once said something in a sermon series that I’m not sure was super helpful. By that, I mean it wasn’t clear, and it could be easily misunderstood. In context, I was speaking to singles who have a desire to be married, but are still in waiting. And here’s what I said: “If we are single today, then we have the gift of singleness today.”

Yet, I want to point out that there is a real, distinct, spiritual “gift of singleness,” as Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 7. Some of us may indeed enjoy THE life-long gift of singleness, spent in pure (celibate) devotion to God. But here’s the thing—Paul had this gift, and he knew it. He didn’t sit around debating the fact. He simply did not burn with passion; he had a clear vision of his life ahead; and he recognized it like any other spiritual gift—whether mercy, teaching, tongues, etc.

I dare say, most of us don’t fit that category. The good news—if that’s what God wants, He will make it evident. However, most of us are “in waiting” still. We want to be married; we pray and hope for such. The great part—there’s no need to debate it or feel bad about that. Keep asking and seeking! The tough part—we question, in our hearts, can we reasonably expect to find joy in the meantime?

This brings me back to that original statement. I can stand by it—inasmuch as we see that, if we are single today, we may not have THE gift of singleness, but we can view our singleness as A gift—because our very LIFE is a gift. We have been given everything we need today to glorify God and enjoy Him today. As I have tweeted: “We may not have a lifelong gift of singleness, but we can lift up our singleness as a gift in worship today. We can consecrate it for Him.” Thus, as Jesus taught, we can choose, if only for now, to be a “eunuch” for the sake of the kingdom (Matthew 19:12). We can also rest assured that, if we are supposed to glorify God in marriage, He will provide a spouse.

There is nothing inherently special about being single as a Christian. We are born single. Thus, we may try to create a catch-22. We think: “I don’t have the gift of singleness. But God has withheld the joy of marriage. Why would He leave me in this position—with nothing?” We fail to grasp that our very life is a gift. It doesn’t require the gift of singleness to see that God has, in fact, given many gifts (James 1:17). He’s not been withholding. He’s been giving and blessing and providing.

The questions I have been pondering in my life lately: Do I truly see and cherish the gifts He has given me today? And what am I doing with them? After all, if I fail to appreciate these gifts now, and am not faithful with them—how can I expect to see marriage as a gift then, and be faithful with it?

For starters:

Today is a gift. “This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).

My salvation is a gift. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Friendship (and community) is a gift. “Oil and perfume make the heart glad; so does the sweetness of a friend come from his earnest counsel” (Proverbs 27:9).

JESUS is a gift. “Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water’” (John 4:10).

The HOLY SPIRIT is a gift. “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13).

He’s also provided me with other spiritual gifts, if not the gift of singleness. Am I using them to glorify Him and edify others? Plus, He’s blessed me with physical provision. Am I giving it cheerfully for the sake of the kingdom—or am I hoarding up all these gifts, to be spent only on myself?

I don’t know God’s will for each person, with regards to marriage and singleness. That’s part of His secret will. But what has been revealed—it’s His will that we be thankful. So, I do not want to be like the kid throwing a tantrum after Christmas, because he DID get 1,000 gifts, but he didn’t get that pony that he wanted—that he feels he needed. Marriage cannot be that pony. Our ideas of marriage are often more like a unicorn anyway. They simply aren’t realistic. If there is a treasure to be had, worth selling everything for, it’s life in Jesus. And, by His grace, He’s already provided that for me!

We have not been left with nothing. God gives daily. Even the rain falls on the just and the unjust. He has also given His Son for us (John 3:16). For those of us in Christ, we can remember this formula from Pastor Tullian Tchividjian: Jesus + Nothing = EVERYTHING!

And may we remember: "learn to be content" is not just a message for singles. It's for us all, "whatever situation" (Phil 4:11). Our life is a gift, friends. So, enjoy it today—whether married or single.