I’ve been out of it for a few weeks. I haven’t been writing, partly, because my thoughts are too complex to be ascribed with words. I’m not a communicator. I can usually get a point across, but it takes great effort.

I’m tired of being a Christian. There I said it. I know when these times come that they do so only because I have been trying desperately to live a rule driven faith. It doesn’t work. It won’t ever work. I try so hard, in my own power, to keep from sinning that I sin. It’s very complex and never fun. It’s not what the Christian life is about, but, in time of distance from the Lord, I try and make it the foundation of my faith. I revert to works when things are going badly.

When I revert to works I get real tired of Christianity, real fast. I know many Christians who live their entire faith from a works mentality. I can’t fathom life that way. I can’t imagine living out a faith without the grace of Christ playing a primary role.

I taught my small group last week. I taught on the topic of grace. It seemed, to me, that I could have been speaking Klingon. It was like none present had ever thought about the idea of grace. Now, I admit that my personal views on grace are a little extreme; but I was still shocked that my brothers and sisters in Christ had spent so little time trying to understand grace.

I have a favorite painting hung in my living room. It’s a Monet print of a winter scene. Bleak, desolate, and dreary are likely adjectives. But, on the far left, perched atop a fence, sits a lone black bird. I see nothing but hope in this painting. When things look bad there remains hope. Indelible hope.

I have more doctor’s visits scheduled, a cortisone shot on the calendar, and less optimism than I ever thought possible. And yet, by the grace of God, there remains hope. I’m tired of being a Christian, and yet hope remains. I know that this too shall pass. I know that Christ still has a plan for this doubting Thomas. I know that Christ still has a future for this denying Peter. Indelible hope.

I have a book that I occasionally go to and re-read. The book is a collection of biographies of the female bishops. They deal primarily with individual stories of faith formation. Each woman wrote about her parents, but more importantly how her parents shaped her faith. It is wonderful to sit and read stories about people who eventually became people of strong, didactic faith.

One didn’t become a Christian until she was in her twenties. Another had been through a string of five or more jobs before she followed the call of God. Many had grown up with no church influence. Most had never seen a female pastor until they were in college. Some were middle aged before they started seminary. But … God had a plan for their lives. God directed them differently. For me, it’s a book of hope. God has a plan, but it’s a steep, rocky, narrow road.

We don’t tell our stories of faith formation enough. When we give our testimonies, we often focus on who we were before we accepted the grace and forgiveness of Christ. We rarely go into stories of who we have become since that point. I’m sure that most of the problem is one of pride. It’s slightly easier to talk about our pasts because they are behind us now. We aren’t who we should be yet. We haven’t finished our transformation. We need to be willing to share openly and honestly what God has done in our lives since we were saved.

I’m not where I should be, I’m not perfect, but I’m heading in the right direction. It isn’t every day that I can say that much. Praise God.

On Salvation

I have a number of thoughts running through my head, but currently they won’t slow down enough for me to see what they are.

I think that there is something fundamentally wrong with our view of salvation. The problem is I’m not sure what it is I find so disheartening about our current understanding of salvation.
I have a problem with the emphasis of “personal salvation.” I think that we may have over contextualized to the point of syncretism. We live in a culture that highly prizes the individual – so our concept of salvation is only extended to the individual. We have no concept of “group salvation” or the salvation of a people.
Because salvation is only for the individual, every person needs to get saved. I don’t have a problem with this concept – I believe that salvation is available to everyone. But, what is salvation? What does it mean to “ask Jesus into your heart?” What does that even mean? We plan services so that they may whip the congregation into an emotional frenzy that one or two may be saved. We expect pastors to preach salvation sermons with such “umph” that all present will accept Christ. We begin friendships with the sole intent of “leading” that friend to Christ. We learn formulas to take a person down the “Roman’s Road.” We ask that people who have gained the head knowledge of Jesus the Christ to pray the “sinner’s prayer.”
Is a person saved when he repents or does she repent to be saved? Which comes first? Jesus said that a person must forgive others before he can worship and that He will deny us before His father if we deny Him before men. Jesus said “go and sell all you have and give it to the poor.” Is this a condition for salvation? Can a person believe less than the whole gospel and yet find salvation in it? (“I believe that Jesus was a great man who died for my sins.” Can a person believe this and be saved by the name of Jesus even if he doesn’t understand that Jesus was God?) How much of the gospel should a person understand before she can respond to an emotional appeal to “get saved?”
Is it scriptural to play off the most base and selfish desires of Man to usher men into the kingdom? We promise escape from the torment of Hell and eternal reward in Heaven if only one will accept Christ. Salvation sermons rarely touch on the topic of forgiving others, selling possessions, or being willing to die for Christ by taking up the cross daily. Jesus often and willingly told people to leave – he never pressured people to accept his message. He never watered things down; he egregiously offended the people with a cultural taboo when he said that “you must eat of my flesh and drink of my blood” to have any part of Me. This was His condition for salvation and he wasn’t willing to let it go. The only ones who remained after that little speech were the twelve.

Here is what I do believe, and the areas about which I have fewer questions.

I believe that salvation is a choice. We must choose to accept the grace and forgiveness of Christ. If you minister in a collectivistic society you should aim for the group to choose salvation.

Salvation is based on more than head-knowledge; it is founded in heart-knowledge, but quickly moves beyond even that.

Personal salvation should be built on a trust transfer. I as a Christian should maintain such trust with those around me that when I tell them of the good news of Jesus Christ the trust I have built up with them would transfer to the Christ for whom I live my life. I have a lot to learn and a great bit of growth left in this area!

I believe that salvation is the doorway into the Kingdom of God. It isn’t the kingdom, and if it is all we are offering people we have nothing to offer.

A disciple is infinitely better than a convert in the Kingdom of God.

Here are a few things I think I believe about salvation:

A person needs to be saved before he or she can truly repent of his or her sins.

Eradication of sin is a lifelong process, and God will lead the way. A person can, I believe, be a Christian for decades before God will convict him of a particular sin that those around him have noticed since day one.

A person, once saved, should almost never be removed from his old friends and acquaintances to be brought into “church” culture. How can salt make food salty if it never touches the food?