On Being the Wrong Kind of Soil

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Rocky soilI read Francis Chan’s Crazy Love recently. The fourth chapter of that book is a killer. Talks about what it means to be lukewarm. I dare you to read that chapter and come away unscathed. I couldn’t.

In that chapter, “Profile of the Lukewarm,” Chan says this in regard to the parable of the sower:

“My caution to you is this: Do not assume you are good soil.”

In case the context is needed, here is the parable:

“And [Jesus] told them many things in parables, saying: “A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched. And since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. He who has ears, let him hear.”
—Matthew 13:3-9

We who sit in church on Sunday and give of our time and money, which soil do we think we are? Do we ever believe that we are not the good soil?

The Bible is filled with verses. I’m convinced that most of us don’t believe them, even those of us who say we are Christians. I say that because I think too many of us don’t believe the harsh verses ever apply to us. We always think we are the good soil. We’re the sheep, not the goats. We’re the wheat, not the chaff.

Jesus says this:

And Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Then Peter said in reply, “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”
—Matthew 19:23-30

Here’s a startling fact based on World Bank statistics: If you have a household income of $50,000, you are among the top 0.98 percent richest people in the world.

Jesus said that people that rich will find it remarkably hard to enter the Kingdom of God. Yet you and I are most likely the very rich He says will find such entry difficult.

Surely, He’s talking about some other rich people, right? The Warren Buffetts and Bill Gateses of the world. Those numbers again: 0.98 percent top richest, $50,000 household income.

Want to really sober up? You have to drop down to a household income of $25,000 to finally drop out of that top richest 10 percent. And yet that’s still rich!

Francis Chan: “Do not assume you are the good soil.”

I didn’t write this post today to make us feel bad about our incomes. I wrote it because I don’t think we take the Bible seriously enough. Maybe we don’t really believe it like we think we do. Certainly we don’t believe it enough to make the kinds of changes we must to truly live the Gospel the way we claim the Gospel should be lived.

Better Than a Beating

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After you take the time to read this post today, I’d love to hear your feedback. I ask because I’m starting to think I’m crazy. Seems everywhere I go, I get the same response from people, so perhaps I’m the one who is wrong.

So fire away.

I’ve written a bit lately about the Internet’s ire. Everyone seems angry. Everyone is mad at some heretic, petty or otherwise. Plenty of talk of wolves. Plenty of hand wringing.

In all of this tension, a few positives go lacking. I talked about one, loving one’s foes. This post is about one of the others.

From the Bible:

Now a Jew named Apollos, a native of Alexandria, came to Ephesus. He was an eloquent man, competent in the Scriptures. He had been instructed in the way of the Lord. And being fervent in spirit, he spoke and taught accurately the things concerning Jesus, though he knew only the baptism of John. He began to speak boldly in the synagogue, but when Priscilla and Aquila heard him, they took him and explained to him the way of God more accurately. And when he wished to cross to Achaia, the brothers encouraged him and wrote to the disciples to welcome him. When he arrived, he greatly helped those who through grace had believed, for he powerfully refuted the Jews in public, showing by the Scriptures that the Christ was Jesus.
—Acts 18:24-28

I love that passage. It’s a gentle, godly, pastoral one. I wish it were the model for how we raise up leaders in the Church.

Here’s this Jewish fellow Apollos who is preaching Jesus. He’s a great speaker; people listen to him. He’s got charisma. Knows a few things about Jesus and passes them on fairly well.

Priscilla and Aquila stumble across Apollos and think he’s got potential. He’s mostly there, but he could use some polishing and needs to understand just a few more things more accurately in order to have the Faith down right.

Priscilla and Aquila

Priscilla & Aquila

So rather than correct him in front of everyone, this godly couple takes Apollos aside and better explains the ways of God so as to overcome the young man’s theological deficiencies. They take time to help their charge work out the kinks. They introduce him to the right Church crowd. And Apollos goes on to become such a heavy hitter that the Apostle Paul must later address the tendency of some to say that they are “of Apollos.” (I guess there were fanboys even back then.)

I keep thinking that if this situation existed today, Apollos would be torn to shreds on the Internet or have some book written by a name pastor/teacher denouncing him for those things he said that were not deemed perfect. The court of Christian public opinion would trumpet to the world that Apollos had theological problems here and there. Plus, he knew only John’s baptism at the time. The horror. 😉

Instead, we get Priscilla and Aquila. Thank God for them. Because of them, and because of God’s great mercy, the story went in a far better direction.

Priscilla and Aquila seem like a couple I’d love to hang with. I’m sure they could teach me many things, especially about the grace needed to see raw giftings and know how to refine them with tenderness and love.

Now comes the crazy Dan part.

I’ve questioned in a few forums why it is so easy for Christians with a national pulpit or some name recognition to scold rather than to draw alongside those younger Christians who own a strong voice but who may not have all the particulars down. Actually, scold is too lax a word. Most of the time the better word is brutalize, as that’s the kind of verbal beating meted out.

Priscilla and Aquila seem long forgotten, as if they have nothing to model for older, established, respected pastors/teachers with a national voice—or you and me for that matter. Better that we defend the Faith than actually mold raw people and win them to a better position.

Here’s what really gets me: When I suggest that it would be great if one of these older, established, respected pastor/teachers calls up the “Apollos of the moment” and asks to chat or even sit down over a few meals to work out how things could be done with greater adherence to Scripture and the leading of the Spirit, the mere hint of this kind of pastoral compassion sends people into fits. Such an idea seems like anathema to some, especially the fans of those respected pastor/teachers. They’ve already piled the wood and found a suitable stake.

I’m not stupid enough to believe that all of these almost-but-not-quite-there modern Apolloses are going to wind up corrected and perfect. Yet at the same time, why do I almost never hear of any of these older, established, respected pastor/teachers with a national pulpit reaching out as Priscilla and Aquila did to people they think are slightly off? Instead, out comes the nuclear option, and the public gets to see how much supposed Christians can really hate.

I wonder sometimes if all this constant clashing is only driving the bystanders to cross Christianity off their list of viable sources of truth.

Yes, sometimes we must wipe our feet of the dust of people who will not listen. But at the same time, I see a whole lot of dust-wipers and not a whole lot of Priscillas and Aquilas.

The Perfect Church

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Sainte-Chapelle church stained glassWith passion week arriving soon, we will begin to experience the high holy days of the Christian Church. We will also experience the dividing lines along which most Christian churches fall.

You see, you can tell a great deal about a church by what aspect of those days it glorifies:  Christ’s earthly ministry, His cross, His resurrection, or Pentecost.

Churches that ally themselves most with the earthly ministry identify with Christ’s love for the weak and broken people of the world and His relentless service to them.

Churches that ally themselves most with the cross identify with a lost individual’s status as a sinner, Christ’s sufferings on our behalf, and the wondrous freedom from sin purchased by Him.

Churches that ally themselves most with the resurrection identify with redemption, the new birth, and an eternity spent with God in heaven.

Churches that ally themselves most with Pentecost identify with the empowering of the new Church by the Holy Spirit to fearlessly go forth as saints to spread the Kingdom with signs and wonders accompanying.

I’ve see a lot of churches in America, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen the perfect church—one that ably allies itself with all four of the above in balance. I don’t know why that is so hard, and yet it is. We seem to like our one or two identifications, and that is about all we can manage.

I keep praying, though.