I was hanging out with Asher today in his bedroom with the window open. As a plane flew overhead, he spoke the “word” he uses to refer to planes.

“Dool”, he said.

I think that stands for ‘duel engine aircraft’.

Anyway, planes fly overhead all the time and he always points up and says his word. Today, however, the plane sound was immediately followed by another familiar city sound – that of sirens. That is, it’s familiar to me. Somehow, Asher hasn’t heard these as often in his short life. He simply gave me a puzzled look. I’m sure he’ll soon have a word for sirens, too.

I’m not sure what he was thinking, but for me, a very specific past experience came to mind. I suddenly remembered something that I hadn’t thought about for quite sometime.

planeBack before I was married to Nathalie, we had a small group – like a simple church – which was made up mostly of her girlfriends who worked with her at Moose McGillycuddy’s bar. What I remembered today was what one girl used to say when ever sirens were heard.

“God Bless,” she would utter, almost under her breath.

I also remember that Nathalie picked up on this at some point. Based on accompanying utterances (usually also whispered) I found that this public expression of blessing was really a spontaneous prayer for those who may be injured in whatever accident to which those public servants were being called.

This memory got me to thinking: What other daily liturgical practices do we engage in without even noticing it?

The word “liturgy” comes from the Greek word leitourgia. This word, used in the Greek city-states long-before Christian worship existed, means “public works”. The Assembly of the city-state would assign specific projects to its rich citizens. These assignments were works designed to enhance public life.

When the term was co-opted by Christians (it appears thoughout Scripture and is often translated “ministry” or “worship” in English) it came to refer to specific works done in the context of a public worship service. The Liturgy of the Mass involved (and involves) specifically ordered acts of worship including prayers, music, and rituals. Even Baptists have “liturgies”. These basically consist of whichever practices are regularly used for worship, however “informal” we might label them.

Reflecting back on the original concept of liturgy as “public works”, I started thinking: Is there some kind of unique daily liturgy that each of us follow as we go about our busy lives? Do we perform “public works” – in the midst of others, on behalf of God?

Now, I am not talking about some official daily public works, such as the Daily Offices (prayer practice structured throughout the day at specific hours, originating in medieval monasteries). Rather, I mean: The casual words we speak and actions we perform on a semi-regular basis that somehow refer to our faith or point us and others to God.

“God Bless” at the sound of a siren certainly fits this category.

So would the blessing of someone when they sneeze. I also feel compelled to pray for strangers when I see ambulances at the scene of an accident. Our mealtime thanksgivings are certainly in this vein. What about non-prayers?

If we view our city as our “cathedral”, we might imagine that walking out our front door constitutes an “Act of Entrance”, just as the procession of clergy is, or call to worship songs are. Following the fourfold worship pattern, our “Word” piece, would have to do with the ways we listen for God’s voice as we tromp around the city streets. Do you hear Him in your server at breakfast? The news articles peeking out from the newspaper dispensers? Is he audible even in the midst of honking horns and blaring sirens?

In most churches, next comes some kind of “Eucharist” piece. Even if it doesn’t include the bread and the cup, this “Thanksgiving” time is typically focused on gratitude for the work of Christ on the cross. What is our eucharist of the streets? Perhaps it is our grateful response to that reoccurring (often nagging) realization that if it were not for Grace, we would find ourselves begging on the streets like that homeless woman, or yelling in anger at that shop-owner for getting our coffee order wrong. What is our grateful response to our daily state of grace?

Maybe we respond with a tangible act of blessing as we invite the homeless woman to share a bagel and some coffee with us. Maybe it is another silent but focused prayer that God would meet the angry man in his anger and the cursed barista in her derided spirit. With some intentionality, it is very possible that through these simple liturgical acts (public works) we could be remembering His body and blood and proclaiming his death until he comes again.

Finally, comes the Benediction – or “Sending into the world”. In our ‘world as sanctuary’ this part of the fourfold service seems a bit askew. Haven’t we already been “sent” as we walk along the alleys and sidewalks? Yes, but it seems that we often forget our “sentness” and our mission. Maybe all of the public works listed above – and the many more we haven’t mentioned – all function to remind us that we have gone into the world, and it is here we are to preach the gospel.

If necessary, using words.

Is technology appropriate for incorporating into worship? If so, how much and toward what end?

This is a loaded question. First of all, technology connotes ‘electronic media’ in most contemporary church circles. One immediately thinks of presentational technologies – anything that can be projected on a screen, for instance video, song lyrics, still images, etc. However, technology in the purest sense refers to those methods or ‘techniques’ we utilize for accomplishing something. In this truer sense, printed books are technology. At the advent of the printing press, it is certain that these compact, hand-held, widely available, compendiums of an author’s thoughts were considered ‘technological’ more in the modern sense – as we consider computers today.

A medieval scribe.

A medieval scribe.

Actually, another ‘technique’ that was quite controversial in the Church was the writing down and copying of Scripture. It seems almost silly today, but some – including major Church pundits – were not at all too excited about moving from a more ‘reliable’ oral tradition to the fixed, but open for unguided interpretation form of written tradition.

So, technique or technology is really just the idea that humans develop and are constantly developing new ways to accomplish tasks.

The task we are discussing is gathered worship. So, what techniques ought to be considered for use in the service of worship?

The general answer is, ‘all of them’. But, more specifically, I think each technology must be run through an ideological grid before it is employed toward the leading of the praise of God. The first, and most important question of the grid should be: What is worship? (Or, you might ask: What is the goal of worship?)

Simply put, worship is the dialogue between God and humans, in which God initiates the conversation and humans respond in cyclical fashion. The goal, then, would be to facilitate this dialogue (to the extent to which we can).

Once we have agreed upon our goal or definition of worship, there are more questions to ask that are specifically relevant to evaluating the technology in question. For instance, we might ask:

How will this technology help us ‘hear’ what God is saying to us?

Traditionally, we hear what God is saying in numerous ways: the reading aloud of the Word, words given by the Holy Spirit through individual worshipers, the Spirit again speaking through the preacher of the Word, etc. These all have to do with speaking and listening. What other techniques might we use for ‘hearing the Word of God’?

In the Middle Ages, most church goers were illiterate. On top of that, the Mass was said in Latin, which was not understood by most present for the Eucharist. The common people spoke whichever vulgar language they spoke. How did these worshipers ‘hear’ the Word of God?

In fact, they ’saw’ the Word, to ‘hear’ the Word.

Bas relief stone carvings – which can be seen today in cathedrals all over Europe – depicted vignettes from the Gospels. Stained glass windows also depicted scenes from the life of Jesus, or Old Testament stories. Statues of saints reminded worshipers of the faithful ones who came before. The shape of the cathedral interior, the placement of the altar, and the seating arrangements (all technologies by the way) ’spoke’ of the holiness of God, the reverence of the Meal, and God’s relationship to his people. These technologies ought to be – and have been – critiqued for their effectiveness toward hearing the Word of God.

A final interesting point here is that a really good and true evaluation of one techniques effectiveness is not eternal. While the images in a Roman cathedral may have been duly effective, by the time the Reformation had come and changed many hearts and minds regarding the uses (or abuses) of images, these became less and less helpful and perhaps more distracting to Protestants who assigned negative feelings to such non-verbal communication.

And, yet again, in our present age, images are familiar and prevalent. In fact, our culture is ‘image saturated’. Once again, it is necessary to judge the credibility and effectiveness of images. And, this must be done from one culture to another, and every time major cultural shifts take place.

Other important questions include:

How will this technology in question help us respond to God?

In the case of images, these can be viewed and reflected upon toward the offering of prayers. If practical, worshipers might even create their own images as prayer-offerings to God from their hearts. Negatively speaking, images tend to be limited in conveying complex ideas. In this sense, images may not always work as a communication tool for responding to God.

What are the possibilities for distraction?

Images that are offensive to some are not offensive to others. Those who plan worship must be well-versed in the values and sensitivities of their congregational body. Also, images that are displayed poorly or just wrought with a lack of skill can deter people from either hearing God or responding to Him.

Does the chosen technology/media change the message that is being communicated in a destructive way?

Marshall McLuhan said, “The medium is the message.” In other words, all media take an intended message and alter it in some way before it reaches the receiver’s ear. In the case of images, the question becomes, how does a picture of something differ from a verbal description of it? What is gained or missed when a picture is employed instead of actual words?

We could go on listing these questions for there are many. But perhaps now we can better answer our initial questions posed here:

Is technology appropriate for incorporating into worship? Yes, in fact it is likely impossible not to employ some technique in worship.

If so, how much technology? This depends on which technologies are attempted and also what cultural sensitivities are at work in the society in which the worship will take place.

And toward what end? The end is worship -dialogue with God. We must always determine whether or not our technologies are promoting dialogue with God, or instead promoting entertainment and distraction.

HamHave you ever been misunderstood? This is a silly question. Of course you have. We all have. The nature of language is such that even those who are (supposedly) speaking the same one, often receive an unintended message. I think communication breakdowns occur not just for language problems, but even more often simply because we are not listening to one another. This is unfortunate.

However, many misunderstandings do occur for very understandable reasons. It is not uncommon for two individuals or groups to miscommunicate when acting cross-culturally and/or cross-linguistically. In August, I experienced this and it proved to be a rather light-hearted and memorable moment of the trip.

I was with about forty Serbians, leading them through a day-long training called “Building the House of Worship: Toward Becoming a More Active Worshiper”. We were more than half-way through the training and things had been progressing nicely. My translator was doing an excellent job translating my words on the spot – as I spoke them.

My workshop uses the metaphor of a house with the different parts of it representing different aspects of worship. The Foundation is ‘what the Bible says about worship’. The Upper Room represents each participant’s own ‘definition of worship’. The Roof represents the two main categories into which our worship actions fall: ‘Missional Action (i.e. serving others) and Ritual Action (singing, etc.)’. There are other concepts corresponding with the Attic, Dining Room, Living Room, Kitchen, and Front Porch.

The Attic is one of my favorite rooms of the House of Worship. It represents all the various historical forms that have been used by Christians for worship since the dawn of the Church. As with each of the house-parts, I was introducing the Attic by verbally drawing out the metaphor. This introduction always helps connect it with what we learn in that segment. The dialogue went something like this:

Eric: In the U.S. many houses have attics. Do you all have attics in your houses?

Group: Yes.

Eric: That’s what I thought. What is it that Serbians keep in their attics?

(The answer I was fishing for was something about “old stuff that we don’t use very often and have mostly forgotten about, but was at one time useful and important to us”)

Group: (loudly, in unison) Ham!

Eric: (turning to translator) What? Are you sure? You must have mistranslated that. Did they understand my question?

Translator: No… they definitely said, “Ham”.

As it turns out, Serbians LOVE to cure their own meat by hanging it in their attics.

My brain didn’t fire too many synapses before I realized that the idea of aged meat, hanging from the rafters in the dark part of someone’s house is not a very good metaphor for Gregorian Chant, Lectio Divina, or any of the other dusty old worship forms.

(Upon further reflection, I have subsequently realized that I CAN work with ham. I should have simply said that the important thing about the Attic is that we can all “meat” with God is such a broad variety of ways.)

(Ok. Maybe it’s good I didn’t say that.)

Within a minute or two we were all laughing at this miscommunication. It was a good reminder that though those of us in that room shared so many similarities – for instance our love of God and desire to worship him well – we also came from very different backgrounds with unique traditions and cultural practices, not to mention languages.

Actually, this is exactly the point I was trying to make in the first place. God has created each human being with the capacity to develop his or her own unique approaches to worshiping him. Though these forms don’t always ‘translate’ across cultures, sometimes we are inspired by those different from us who approach God in fresh ways – ways that can potentially breathe new life into our daily and weekly worship routines.

I attended a Pecha-Kucha event last night.

Pronounced “pay-chak-cha”, this phrase is Japanese for “the sound of conversation” or “chit-chat” as some have said. It refers to a specific event-method for presenting art-design projects and ideas. Each artist is allowed to present 20 slides/images for only 20 seconds each, amounting to 6 minutes and 40 seconds of presentation per participant. This corrals the often tangential, wheel-spoke thinking of designers and “keeps the interest level up, and gives more people the chance to show“.

Started about seven years ago, Pecha-Kucha nights are a world-wide phenomena. I believe they now take place in about 200 cities globally (a number I heard last night, which is updated from the 100 cities their website boasts).

The event I went to last night was called, “Femmes Fatales” and was put on by the Los Angeles Forum for Architecture and Urban Design. There were 17 designers who presented – originally 18, but one fell ill. I arrived late, which was apparently okay since things didn’t get started until about 7:45 p.m., 45 minutes after the scheduled start. This was nice, since there was beer and wine (for a donation) and many people seemed to be chatty and glad to socialize after coming from their places of work.

I entered the long, narrow room of the new LA Forum Gallery, formerly managed by Woodbury University’s Architecture program. The space was filled with a bunch of Hollywood types (always wanted to say that) with thick-rimmed glasses, colorful A-line dresses, and either no make-up or too much. Everyone had a bottle of beer or a plastic half-cup of red wine. I scanned the dimly lit room to find some light coming from a small doorway at the very end of the hall. Sure enough, I found the man with the cooler and suggested donation cup. Read the rest of this entry »

Someone recently asked me if I was interested in the NWLC. I wasn’t sure what that was so I Googled it.

Was he wanting me to join this? I suppose I could stand to learn more about women’s rights.

Or, was I being invited to this? Umm. I really hope not.

Finally, I came upon this. Certainly makes more sense. But, I probably won’t be attending. It’s right before I go to Europe and besides… it’s in KANSAS.

I think there should be a copyright on acronyms. Once one is created, no one else can use it.

Just finished writing my devotional entry for the 2010 CRM Lenten Devotional. It is due on Monday. I know we are currently upon Pentecost, but perhaps you never really reflected properly during the 2009 Lenten season. Here’s your chance, slacker!

Lamentations 3:22-24

22 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

24 I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”

In 1998, I was exiled. I was violently expelled from my home against my will. All my applications for re-entry were denied. I was stiff-armed at every border.

Exile for me equaled pain. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of me and I was stuck in that moment between the impact on my chest and the refilling of my lungs. Here, my spirit was nearly consumed.

In 586 BC, the people of Jerusalem were exiled. Babylonian forces starved, ravaged, and brutally murdered many of the city’s inhabitants. The walls were burned. The survivors, led away.

Lamentations is a collage of sketches from the incident that initiated the scattering of the Jews and came to define Israel as a people exiled from their own land -

Giotto's Angel of Lament

Giotto's Angel of Lament

a home given to them by their God. This brooding book projects images of starving children who upon their death are eaten by their own starving mothers. Women are brutally raped. Once called royal ‘queen,’ Jerusalem is transmogrified into a filthy whore. The LORD, himself, is so angry he is portrayed as a pitiless “enemy” ravaging those with whom he is supposed to have an everlasting covenant.

The onslaught of degrading snapshots and wretched descriptions rarely stalls as it plows from one chapter to the next. Even the final verse of the book leaves open the terrifying possibility that God has ‘utterly rejected’ his people who are now beyond restoration.

But there is hope for all exiles.

Almost exactly in the middle of this desert of lament we locate an oasis. While the other four chapters each stop at verse twenty-two, the middle chapter launches a meditation on hope in its twenty-second verse that continues on for several stanzas. It begins: Because of the Yahweh’s great love we are not consumed…

The word consume means to ‘take in’ or to ‘use up.’ As purchasers we consume cars, toys, clothes. As living organisms we consume food and drink. As human minds we consume books, ideas, philosophies. Consequently we, ourselves, are altogether taken in and vacuumed up, indiscreetly swirled together with all we insatiably invite into our lives. At this point, the consumer becomes the consumed. The purchaser is bought and owned. The eater becomes the eaten. Our own consumption leads to our own consumption.

What is our salvation from the consumption of us and by us?

We are finally saved by divine compassion. The word compassion comes from the Latin compati, literally meaning “suffering with.” When the LORD chooses to enter our suffering (of which Jesus’ incarnation is the prime example) there is absolutely no possibility we can be overwhelmed either by what we take in or what takes us in. For, it is in God’s taking in of us – the orphan, widow, exile, misfit, sinner – that the circle of consumption is finally broken. We are consumed with him alone.

My divorce nearly ruined me. It was only God’s limitless compassion, renewed daily that kept me from being sucked up with my pain into oblivion.

Israel was nearly ruined, too. It is only the LORD’s unfailing love that has sustained them through exile, pogroms, and holocausts and prevented their disappearance as the people of God.

We need not over consume nor be consumed over our circumstances. God has set aside the perfect portion for those He loves. He is our portion. He is also our consumer. And so, we wait patiently to be taken up and in to his peace.

QUESTIONS:
What is it that threatens to consume you?

In the past, when you have been surrounded by potentially consuming circumstances, how have you responded?

How might you begin to put unhealthy consumption to bed and awaken yourself  to God’s compassion?

My son Asher is almost nine months old. He really likes music. I know that all children have that ‘musical gene‘ or whatever it is that is programmed into them that makes them gravitate toward organized sounds. Asher is no exception.

Usually, when I carry him into the living room where our stereo is, he looks right at it and sometimes even grunts a little. All I have to do is carry him in the direction of the speakers (which are not yet on) and he begins to get excited – kicking his feet, shaking his legs, and a moving his arms all around. Once I select some music and hit ‘play’ he smiles and wants to ‘fly’ in the air, his body members in quivering vibration.

Today, I chose to put  a music video on the TV instead of just playing a CD. We haven’t yet exposed him to many movies or video, but I have noticed that with the choice between a children’s TV show and a musical performance video he seems to prefer the latter. I realized this when he was in his bouncer a couple months ago and I had the live performance called From the Basement by Radiohead playing on my iPod. Though he was at least five feet away, he was mesmerized by the tiny 2.5 inch (diagonal) screen and all of the musical action taking place on it.

This morning I put on Sting’s “The Brand New Day Tour” video from 2000. Asher sat in my lap for about five minutes straight watching the musicians play. A dynamic feat for one his age (his attention span is only about 2 minutes shorter than mine).

I hadn’t watched this performance for a while and I noticed something that really bothered me. Sting had three ‘back-up’ vocalists on that tour. Apparently, they also existed as their own music group called Scream (though, I can’t find a link anywhere to this group). The producer of this program – not sure who that is – had these three women dressed identically in extremely tight-fitting, brown-sequined, mini-skirt dresses. They danced (maybe this is the wrong verb) in perfect mechanical unison, swaying their hips sensually from side to side in an almost figure-eight motion. They did not deviate from this action for as long as they were on camera – for numerous songs in a row.

The performance of these ladies was reminiscent of a Robert Palmer video, about a decade and a half previous. (Incidentally, I’ve always thought Palmer looks like he’s trying to stifle a belch in between each phrase on this video… “When I took… (look away, belch)…/You out… (look away, belch)…, etc.”

My point is, the women – who are at least real musicians in the Sting video – have been reduced to mere automatons. This is boring. It is boring and it bothers me. I don’t like it because this choreographed reduction of personality limits the contribution by these ladies to the larger whole. It not only makes them appear nearly useless as musicians, but depreciates Sting’s overall performance, as well. Ironically, Sting may have been the very one who pushed the Palmer-esque dance routine idea for his 2000 tour.

I realize that Sting (one of my very fav musicians by the way) is a different generation from me. He was “Born in the 50’s” as The Police song says. I am part of the “Unplugged” generation. My idea of an interesting music performance to watch includes musicians in a stripped-down (at least theatrically) environment where each performer is free to emote – both physically and musically, and above all – naturally.

This does not necessarily mean each performer in this kind of environment would act rhapsodically. But, I would expect at least some variation in facial expression from person to person and minimized pre-sychronization of movement.

I realize, those who are fans of dance might argue that synchronized movement is just as artful as synchronized music performance. However, in the context of a concert, this kind of action communicates uniformity rather than creativity as it involves the contribution of the individual performer.

All of this may just be preferential musing at this point. But, when one considers how this kind of choreographed music presentation has influenced contemporary church music, I think we can arrive at a critical conclusion.

While authenticity in artistic expression may not be a preferred quality that spans generational gaps, authenticity in musical worship – it can be argued – must necessarily be presented with utmost genuineness. This is because the kind of performance undertaken in worship leading is not the kind meant to impress with synchronized hip swaying (not to mention the potential sexual insinuations contained in these actions) nor is it meant to ‘wow’ the ‘audience’ with the latest costumes and greatest light show.

The most impressive thing that musical worshipers can put forth involves a real presentation of music that originates in the depths of their spirit and is expelled through truthful (read: authentic) action and sound.

I haven’t asked him yet, but I’m pretty sure Asher feels the same way. Or maybe his generation will have an altogether different idea of legitimate musical stage presence, inside and outside the church.

Prophets are misunderstood in America today. I don’t mean that what they say is confusing. I mean that our modern conception of what a prophet is and does fails to live up to the traditional definition of prophet as revealed in the Old Testament.

There are two dominant ideas about prophets today. The first sees prophets as mainly ‘future-tellers,’ mostly of scary things to come relating to Jesus. The second view prevalent today imagines prophets not as those concerned with the future, but rather ones ‘righteously indignant’ about social injustices abounding in the present.1

According to one contemporary theologian, neither of these diverging visions truly articulates the biblical conception of the prophetic role. Instead of acting as harbingers of end-times doom or conversely angry church politicos, Walter Brueggeman claims that the

[t]ask of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousess and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us.2

According to Israelite tradition, prophets were all about ‘evoking perceptions’ about reality. How did the prophets do this? In ancient Israel, they often used passionate words to convince the hearers about the way things ought to line up in God’s economy. Some prophets took action (in the case of Ezekiel very strange action) that metaphorically and tangibly conveyed an alternative perception of reality for all those who were witnesses to the prophet’s life and ministry.

If the above critique is true, who then are the ‘real’ prophets of our age? We could assume it is the religious pundits and preachers who purvey their visions of God’s reality before eager ears. This may be accurate in part. However, our world no longer deals exclusively in word-driven communication.

Technology has turned our society away from being a culture of words. Our world – now brimming with videos, sounds, pictures, computer screens, movies, the internet, and more – is not one of words alone, but of multi-media language.

I believe that today’s prophets are the ones with mastery over today’s media language, who at the same time understand God’s ‘alternative’ to the popular consciousness. These are the ones with the powerful potential to “nurture, nourish, and evoke” a new and true vision – a vision of the real kingdom of God. I am speaking of the twenty-first century artists–of-faith.

The artists-of-faith are precisely the ones in whom I am investing most of my time and energy. While continuing to ‘help churches worship better’ (since 2003) I am adding a new aspect to my ministry through Church Resource Ministries (CRM). I am gathering women and men to start Arts Collectives. These are simply groups of diversely gifted individuals who invent new and culturally saavy ways to inspire spiritual dialogue among their neighbors.

This task is significant since almost 100% of Christian artists are currently only using their skills for church services.

Instead, I am calling artists who are worshipers and leaders out of church to not just lead believers, but to lead culture.
————
1 Walter Brueggeman, The Prophetic Imagination (Fortress Press, 1978), 12-13.
2 Ibid., 13.

When most people think of the Gospel of John, chapter three, they think of silly people with numbered signs at football games. Or, they think of the very first verse they ever memorized in Sunday School.

Chapter 3, verse 16 somehow became a (literal) banner verse, at least for 20th century Americans.

For the last several years, I have been much less interested in 3:16, perhaps because I was one who memorized it in Sunday School when I was three. I am more intrigued by the beginning of the dialogue between Nicodemus and Jesus, earlier in the passage.

Nicodemus – who is apparently a little embarrassed to approach this new Rabbi – meets Jesus under the cover of darkness. He immediately confronts Jesus with his question about who Jesus is and how he can possibly perform all of the amazing signs he has been performing. In typical fashion, Jesus replies with an answer that seems to indicate Jesus wasn’t even listening to the question.

Instead of saying, “Yes, Nico, I AM from God and that is how I can heal and love the way I do,” Jesus says something baffling about the nature of the kingdom of God. He says:

Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born again.

Nicodemus jumps on this, forgetting his initial track of questioning and exclaims, “How can anyone be born when they are old?.. Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”

Jesus’ answer is an expansion of his first statement. The way a person can be “born a second time” is through a spiritual birth. Each person has a first birth – that of the flesh – literally our human birth. Jesus explains that each person may also have a second birth that has to do with the Spirit. Apparently, the mysterious Spirit of God causes spiritual rebirths in people.

Examination of the Greek reveals that “born again” is a poor English translation, since the original term contains both the meaning of being born “anew,” as well as the concept of being born “from above.” This second part helps emphasize the necessary work of the Spirit in this re-birthing process.

Later, verse 16 – that popular verse – was inextricably married to this idea of rebirth. The idea in verse 16 of “believing” to have eternal life has been linked with being born again. But, I see these two verses (3 and 16) as separate issues. In fact, in my TNIV, the editors haven’t attributed verse 16 to Jesus as others have and as one would if it was a continuation of Jesus’ words about rebirth to see the kingdom of God.

The above is important because linking the emphasis on “believing” with “seeing the kingdom” places the onus and responsibility (or even simply the ability) to be born again on individual humans. However, if one is to be born “from above” there is evidently a supernatural action from God that is beyond our initiation and ability. I am not arguing that we have no part in this process, I am simply arguing that the Spirit has a crucial part in this second birth and a part that is not necessarily contingent on our “believing” as has been promoted in fundamentalist circles.

When I think about John 3:3, all this musing on spiritual rebirth and one’s ability to see or not see the kingdom of God begs this question: If people see the kingdom as the Spirit acts from above, is there a part we can play in making the kingdom more accessible or visible to those who haven’t yet seen it?

My thought is that as prophetic artists (not just visual artists, mind you) we have the ever-present opportunity to portray aspects of the invisible kingdom through pictures, stories, songs, poems, and even the way we creatively live our daily lives. I believe that each time someone confronts our art, the Spirit has another opportunity to bring new birth, from above to that individual. Each engagement with kingdom revealing art is a potential revelation moment.

One more thought. I am not talking about painting pictures of flowers and children and Jesus handing out stickers. Nor am I talking about explicitly “religious” art. The kingdom of God is a spiritual reality that has sociological implications. When thought of like this, our art can portray almost any kingdom value as it is in conflict with the values of this world. Perhaps this also includes portraying worldly values in conflict.

In other words, we are not just talking about ’shiny, happy’ art. We are speaking of art that depicts real life – the good and bad. It will differ, however, from the art of others, because it will alternatively critique culture and bring hope to culture. Not all art critiques and brings hope, but kingdom art ought to and in this way it becomes prophetic – the ‘word’ of God – spoken through those who have tasted and seen his good kingdom. It is art that conveys the beauty of a world fully embracing all the King intends for it.

I regularly receive a couple alumni journals from two Christian colleges, both of which I attended – neither of which I graduated from. Does that make me an alumnus?

Anyway, a recent journal from one of the schools has a great article on “The Church in a Missional Age.” Though they are a little late in bringing this to the table, it is a really well-thought out, thorough survey of what missional means.

However, there is still a good deal of language in the article that – though it is subtle – rubs me the wrong way. For instance, in speaking about “missional” in terms of the Church and the kingdom of God, the perfectly orthodox statement is made:

It is the Holy Spirit working through us as Christians – as the church – that bridges the gap between the kingdom and the world.

What bothers me about this statement is not the bottom-line truth or falsity of it. It is harder to define than that. I do not necessarily disagree with the basic idea that the Spirit works in the world through believers. What does bother me is the perceived tone and emphasis in the exact chosen words and sentence structure. It gives away an underlying bias.

What bothers me is that “Christians” are positioned as simply the new Israel. We (the Church) are the (only) hope for the world. Sure, the concession is made at the start that it is the Holy Spirit “working through” his followers. But, the idea that it is solely the Church, specifically “Christians” that “bridge the gap” between the world and the kingdom that Jesus proclaimed, seems incomplete. To me, it smacks of unnecessary arrogance.

The language used here indicates that the Church is some kind of exclusive club that must save the world. It implies that the world is helpless to behold the kingdom without the Church. I think this is incorrect.

I remember attending a seminar on worship and healing at Anaheim Vineyard back in the late 1990’s. It was before John Wimber died and he gave an impressive talk, even though his throat was dry, ravaged from the cancer battle he was losing. One of the themes of the conference was the idea of the “kingdom breaking through.” We discussed how Christians often pray for healing and find that sometimes, actually often, God does not heal. The kingdom fails to “break through” at the whim of the praying believer. Conversely, its “breaking through” is unpredictable and uncontrollable.

I was impressed by this idea that the kingdom breaks through as it will – as God wills it – sometimes very erratically and definitely not as we expect or will it. How much control do Christians really have over who and which parts of the world “see” or “don’t see” the kingdom? Must the world really walk across our backs as the only pathway to apprehending the kingdom? I think not.

The kingdom breaks through as God’s wills it, often independent of the work or works of the Church. In fact, I would argue that more often than not – throughout history – it is the Church which has hindered that breaking through.

Let me clarify, I DO think that believers can live out kingdom values that display this “invisible” kingdom. And, of course, I am very interested in how works of art can depict the kingdom of God, presenting opportunities for the Spirit to reveal as she will. It is this idea that Christians corner the market on the kingdom that I have a problem with.

Ask yourself this: Is it possible that certain non-Christians may say and do things – as those made in Imago Dei – which reveal the kingdom in powerful ways? To answer “no” is to claim that some sort of particular religious flavor is what saves, rather than God himself.

The kingdom breaks through as it (God) wills.

The title of this post is a version of a phrase attributed to Leonardo Boff.

These ideas ©2009 Eric Herron unless otherwise noted.

Twitter

Facebook


Eric Donald Herron's Facebook profile