Through a series of fortunate circumstances, I recently discovered a collection of Puritan prayers in a book entitled The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions. The power of these prayers–though humble and unadorned–rivals the elegant and painstakingly crafted catechisms of the early church, and both now have a welcome niche in my thought-life. Today I’d like to share my favorite here, entitled “Belonging to Jesus.”

O HEAVENLY FATHER,
Teach me to see
that if Christ has pacified Thee and satisfied divine justice,
He can also deliver me from my sins;
that Christ does not desire me, now justified,
to live in self-confidence and in my own strength,
but gives me the law of the Spirit of Life, to enable me to obey Thee;
that the Spirit and His power are mine by resting on Christ’s  death;
that the Spirit of Life within answers to the law without;
that if I sin not I should thank Thee for it;
that if I sin I should be humbled daily under it;
that I should mourn for sin more than other men do,
for when I see I shall die because of sin that makes me mourn;
when I see how sin strikes at Thee, that makes me mourn;
when I see that sin caused Christ’s death, that makes me mourn;
that sanctification is the evidence of reconciliation,
proving that faith has truly apprehended Christ;
Thou hast taught me
that faith is nothing else than receiving Thy kindness;
that it is an adherence to Christ, a resting on Him,
love clinging to Him as a branch to the tree, to seek life and vigour from Him.
I thank Thee for showing me the vast difference between knowing things by reason,
and knowing them by the spirit of faith.
By reason I see a thing is so; by faith I know it as it is.
I have seen Thee by reason and have not been amazed,
I have seen Thee as Thou art in the Son and have been ravished to behold Thee!
I bless Thee that I am Thine in my Savior, Jesus.

If you have kids, you inevitably have to deal with it. Call it what you will: the bogeyman, the dark, monsters under the bed. Fear plays a big role in kids’ lives. Eventually they reach a point where they’re conscious that we’re not OK and things can go wrong, and that’s scary.

At our house, it shows up around bedtime every night. “Daddy, I don’t want to be alone,” says my four-year-old daughter. I always explain that we are all in our home and it’s a safe place. Nothing can harm us when we’re here. I also point out that I will always do everything in my power to protect her, and that God tells us that he is always watching over us.

As I thought about that child-like, “irrational” fear, I realized that we never really gets rid of it. No matter how old we are, we always struggle with some kind of fear.  What we need to remember is that we are in a safe place. Our father is always watching over us and he will do everything in his power to protect us.

Have you ever observed a skilled craftsman practice his trade? Someone like a woodworker who is highly experienced in his craft has worked for years as an apprentice and a journeyman to earn the title “master.”

Recently, as I sat in traffic on my commute home from work, I watched several drivers zipping down the shoulder to get ahead of other drivers as a red light turned green. Those of us who were patient and law-abiding had to wait a bit longer while these renegades incorporated themselves into the traffic ahead.

In addition to making me annoyed, that got me thinking. Why shouldn’t I do that too? What does it matter? I would arrive home a few minutes earlier and what are these poor saps going to do about it? Crash into me?

I continued that thread, answering my own questions. I don’t do the “right thing” behind the wheel because it’s the law and I’m afraid I’ll get a ticket, or because I’m a goody two-shoes, or even because I necessarily care what other drivers think about my actions. I do the right thing because as a driver I want to be the best I can be–even if it means driving a little slower, waiting a little longer, or showing a little more courtesy. This sounds a little lame, but bear with me here: when it comes to the “craft” of driving, I want to be a master.

As I pondered these things, I recalled something I read in the book Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality:

…I realized I was not alone in my surroundings. I’m not talking about ghosts or angels or anything; I’m talking about other people. As silly as it sounds, I realized … that other people had feelings and fears and that my interactions with them actually meant something, that I could make them happy or sad in the way that I associated with them. Not only could I make them happy or sad, but I was responsible for the way I interacted with them. I suddenly felt responsible. I was supposed to make them happy. I was not supposed to make them sad. (p. 9)

Donald Miller has neatly defined narcissism for us. At best, narcissism sees other people as means to an egocentric end. At worst, other people are simply obstacles to be overcome in achieving that end. It describes, I think, a great deal about the human condition. It explains why people do things the way they do: drive, serve, vote, worship, talk, consume goods, … on and on. Our human nature, left unchecked, demands that we look out for number one above all else, even if the result casts away the opportunity to make a positive impact on people. When we heed the tyranny of our ego, we become slaves to ourselves. Our knowledge of the elegant and gracious craft of humanity grows dim.

Moments later, I had broken free of the grinding traffic and cruised along the winding country roads that lead home. I continued to flesh out my new notion of the “craft of humanity.” What would a “master” in the craft of humanity look like? Naturally, my mind settled on the one I call “Master.” Jesus set the example for us as humans. He wandered the hills of Palestine, a perfect example of humanity, the likes of which Earth had not seen for thousands of years.

I am his apprentice, striving to match his example, taking instruction from him as he guides my hand at the chisel and the plane. Together we’re working on my life: shaping, cutting away, transforming the flaws into unique characteristics that exhibit the craftsmanship that only Jesus posesses for changing lives. He is, after all, the master carpenter.

So in the intervening time since this interior discourse, I’ve made an effort to follow Jesus’s example and be intentional in my relationships and impact people in a positive way. Even if it means simply waving another driver in front of me, it gives me an opportunity to humble myself and consider the needs, wants, and feelings of others. The result is sometimes surprising: people smile, wave, and even return the favor.

Kevin Roose, author of The Unlikely Disciple, spoke out against Liberty University nixing the campus Young Democrats club in a Huffington Post article today.

The thing that strikes me with this guy is that, over and over again, he ends up acting as a sort of apologist for evangelicals. His recurring message appears to be “I realize what this looks like to us outsiders. Don’t judge too harshly. I’ve spent time with these people and I’ve seen they do have good qualities.” In his own words:

“… speaking about the Liberty Young Democrats as if they were bizarre outliers (like “Jews for Jesus” or “Skydivers Afraid of Heights”) ignores the fact that Liberty students, like many other young evangelicals across the nation, are rethinking what it means to be a Christian in the 21st century.”

Millions of young evangelicals are ready to overhaul “traditional” evangelicalism, opening the doors to secular culture with an eye toward inclusiveness, acceptance, and love–all while maintaining the integrity of the faith.

I think much of the massive disconnect between evangelicalism and mainstream society is that evangelicals fail to balance their position in the world with their mission. They miss nearly every opportunity to effect real change because of their own rhetoric. They rail against secular culture while bemoaning their loss of influence in the marketplace.

Kevin Roose seems to have his hand on the pulse of the “underground” Liberty–the Liberty that, whether the administration likes it or not, will be out in the world teaching, preaching, leading, and serving. They will be the agents of change, showing the love of Christ to every corner of the world (ideological corners as well as geographic ones).

I’m pretty sure I can guess what Liberty’s “official” position is on Kevin Roose, but they should consider him a blessing. I’m willing to bet that more people are listening to what he has to say about LU these days than what they do.

Followers of Christ are supposed to do just that: follow Christ. Few orthodox Christians will deny that emulating Jesus’s example is the way to ensure that we’re on the right path. However, for me, there was always that nagging sense that Jesus had an “edge” that made it easier for him to live righteously: he was 100% holy, omnipotent, and omniscient God.

For quite some time now I’ve been mulling something over that has utterly changed the way I see the example that Jesus set while he was here on earth. I was studying Philippians, and I came to rest on the following passage:

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. For this reason also, God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (2:5-11, NASB)

As I went through this passage, several things became apparent to me about Jesus’s deity and incarnation. The word that’s most relevant to he current discussion, however, is emptied, in verse 7.

The word rendered emptied in the New American Standard Bible is the Greek word kenoo, which means, literally, “to empty.” Jesus “did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped” because he didn’t have to grasp it (the Greek word rendered grasp here means “seized.”) In other words, Jesus already had equality with God, therefore he did not need to “seize” it. Rather, he surrendered his God-identity, pouring it out and taking the form of bond-servant, and being made in the likeness (or appearance) of men. Jesus, although he was still fully God, willingly limited himself to humanity.

So, here’s the rub: as Jesus walked the earth as a man, emptied of his divine identity, how was he able to perform miracles? Did he cheat, sneaking out a bit of his divine power to accomplish feats that appear to defy natural law?

The answer lies in what Jesus told his disciples in Matthew 17:20:

“… I tell you the truth, if  you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this  mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be  impossible for you.”

I always pictured the disciples thinking “Easy for you to say,” but now I see that Jesus was telling them “Follow the example I am setting.” We see that they did, as throughout the apostolic era, those very disciples performed miracles similar to the ones that Jesus performed during his earthly ministry. Obviously, the apostles did not lay claim to any innate deity. They were exercising utter faith in God.

So all the miracles were performed not by God shrouded in a man-shaped shell, but rather by God, who surrendered his claim to deity and submitted himself to the limitations imposed upon mankind. His command of nature, sickness, demonic forces, and even death was derived not from his innate deity, but from his perfect faith in his Father. What an incredible example this is!

Followers of Christ should submit to earthly authority regardless of their approval or disapproval of the particular regime in power at the moment. Romans 13 was, after all, written during the reign of Nero, one of the most brutal anti-Christian rulers perhaps in all of history. Still, Paul encouraged Christians to pay their taxes, obey the law, etc. (Notice that Paul mentioned nothing about submitting to the law forbidding spreading Christianity itself.)

Believers should neither withdraw from society,  nor mount some political “Jesus revolution” and establish a strict theocracy. We are given the unique privilege of choosing our leaders in the United States. I believe we should use that privilege to the glory of God.

I think the “evangelical establishment” (as I call it) has sort of fallen into this erroneous notion that America was once a Christian nation and that’s been stolen from us by atheists and agnostics and secular humanists and all the “other” religious groups. We feel that it’s our God-ordained duty to take back what we had and “put down” the rebellion of anyone who dares to challenge the sovereignty of this America-Kingdom of God hybrid idea that we’ve created.

Listening to agnostics, atheists, and their ilk, often their biggest beef with “Christianity” is all the evil it has purported over the centuries in the name of “doing God’s work.” I’m not going to address the egregious and unavoidable errors in this argument here, but the point is this: these people are pissed off for a reason.

Christianity has long been the de facto “official” religion of Western civilization. This idea took root during the Holy Roman Empire, and continued as Rome’s influence spread over the globe (ultimately via the British Empire in the modern age). The Inquisition, the Crusades, witch burnings, and other events in the development of Western Civilization and Christianity, in addition to the contemporary issues surrounding civil rights are points against Christianity in the mind of an atheist (or agnostic).

I think the problem through the ages is simply this: Christians, as a whole, have failed to abide by the Law of Love.

For example, the Federal Marriage Amendment is touted by many evangelicals as a critical issue in preserving America as the godly nation it was designed to be. I think that’s a mistake. I think there are other solutions to that semantic puzzle that don’t alienate homosexuals and those who support them. I think if it was up to me, I’d broaden whatever Federal incentives are currently provided to man-woman marriages to include every taxpayer, married or unmarried. I don’t need the Federal government to legitimize my marriage or anyone else’s. that way the wind is taken from the sails of the groups saying “what about us?” (Feel free to insert the slippery slope argument of your choice here.)

To bring this ramble full circle, I think we, as followers of Christ, should let God’s Love be our guide in relating to the world. This should include choosing our leaders. We are so eager to throw our support to the person who promises us some little glimmer of hope that we’ll be able to re-establish the “city on a hill” and put all these non-believers in their proper place. I don’t think that’s the proper way to “go into all the world and preach the gospel.”

Believers need to stop playing political catch up, trying to hang on to the illusion that America was ordained by God so that we, God’s children, can have our way all the time. I do believe that America is God-ordained, as are all earthly dominions. I think the onus is on us to embrace the freedoms we have to express the love and grace of God.

As an epilogue, I’d like to mention my intense distaste for the abject fear that many believers seem to have for the notion of postmodernism. Postmodernism is the paradigm that follows modernism. Postmodernism’s main “theme”, if you will, is re-evaluating the constructs embraced during the modern age. Postmodernism is not the scourge of Christianity. Christianity was born in a social-religious climate much like our postmodernism. It grew at that time like it has never grown since, and I wonder sometimes whether Christians can get their heads out of the sand and forge ahead instead of pining for the aged modern paradigm.

… but that’s another post, I think.

Every life is sacred.

That’s what most “orthodox” evangelicals will tell you. That’s why the evangelical establishment is willing to back any political candidate who promises that he or she is “pro-life.” It seems to me, however, that by choosing leaders by this relatively narrow test of character, we often make the wrong choice. We’ve duped ourselves into believing that it’s OK to choose the “lesser evil” as long as at least our most important political appetites are sated.

I generally agreed with this notion, until I really started thinking about the ramifications. We’re given relatively few choices when it comes to choosing our leaders in this country, and recently (at least for the past 30 years or so) the choices have (often) included two proponents of big-government: a welfare statist, or a military statist.

This election is no different. On the one hand, we have a candidate who wants to nationalize health care, among other “entitlements;” on the other hand, we have a candidate who’s all for expanding the United States’ military presence around the world. Given their voting records and comments over the past month or so, both candidates are also in favor of expanding the Federal government’s role in the economy.

I was interested to learn that the Constitution Party’s candidate for president is a graduate of my alma mater, yet despite his political, economic, and social views being in line with many of mine, and, I would assume, many of my evangelical brothers and sisters, I haven’t heard a word about this candidate through traditional evangelical “channels.”

I pondered this, and realized that the reason for the hush regarding someone who will stand up for what is right (not only in the eyes of the Lord, but also in terms of common sense), was that the present-day evangelical establishment is all but married to neo-conservative Republicanism. Exactly why this is, I don’t know. But, as I thought about it, I realized that whatever the reasons, I think we’ve taken a wrong turn in choosing our political allies.

If every life is sacred, that’s all well and good when we’re talking about unborn babies, the elderly, and those who are unable to care for themselves. But here’s the disconnect that I see: what about the lives that end at the hands of the U.S. military overseas as they “police the world?” What about the life that ends as a result of the Federal justice system determining that that life is best put to an end because it’s a “menace to society?”

Please don’t get me wrong, the U.S. should use its military to defend its borders and to protect itself from overseas threats, but sending troops–standing armies–to all points of the globe to “protect America’s interests,” or because some entangling supra-national organization decides we should, is not the same thing. Also, although I believe that the criminal justice system is broken (and the Federal system terminally so), I still think there is a place for such a system in our society.

My urgent plea to my evangelical brothers and sisters is to carefully research and pray about who you choose to lead us.

The lesser evil is still evil. Vote for the “right” person. Don’t let religious leaders or society as a whole pigeon-hole you and make you think that you won’t have a voice if you do the right thing.