Showing posts with label Pastoral Theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pastoral Theology. Show all posts

Monday, January 31, 2011

Legalists & Antinomians

Douglas Wilson adds this bit to a recent flurry of blog posts and articles:

"For many among the contemporary Reformed, a legalist is someone who loves Jesus more than they do, and an antinomian is one who appears to enjoy loving Jesus like that. And if this ever happens on a large scale, it will be a great revival and reformation, recognized as such by the museum curators of the future."


There a couple of layers of cheerful irony there as you can see for yourself if you read the rest of the post here.

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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

An Evangelist

"An evangelist is a man who, by speaking of Jesus, changes his own mind; by being in process, he leads others into the same process."

Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy, Fruit of the Lips, 22-23.

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Reformission Rev. Review Pt. 1: Prayer and Calling

Another book review for you. I just recently read Mark Driscoll's Confessions of a Reformission Rev. And it was really good. There are some obvious areas in theology and church life that we differ on, but Driscoll's passion to love and obey Jesus through planting and leading a church is a fun and encouraging story to read. This particular book is just that, a sort of autobiography of his life planting Mars Hill in Seattle. Driscoll is an engaging writer, story teller, and thoughtful theologian.

Over the next few days, I'll post some of what I found to be the highlights of the book:

Part 1

At some point in the early days of church planting, Driscoll realized that he needed to submit to the will of Jesus for Mars Hill. And this meant that he (Driscoll) needed to find out what Jesus wanted Mars Hill to be, to do, etc. Driscoll recounts how he began spending extended periods of time in prayer and bible study on the one hand and then lots of time hanging out in coffee shops and various public places in Seattle, trying to get to know the people, and their needs and interests. Through this process, Driscoll became convinced that Mars Hill needed to grow up from a graduated high school youth group meeting into a full-fledged church that would make a significant impact on the city of Seattle. I really appreciated Driscoll's realization that he needed to spend a lot of time studying the Bible and praying. He notes somewhere in there, that this is still a regular part of his schedule, and this is something that pastors have to come to peace with. An important part of the pastoral call is *praying*. Hours should be spent each week *praying*. And this is different than preparing for a Bible studies, sermon preparation, reading theological journals, or blogging. Praying is talking to Jesus about what He wants from you, from your people, and what He wants for your city. If Jesus is Lord of His Church, and King of every one of our cities, then we need to speak to Him and hear from Him. While Driscoll has been called to minister to many different sectors of Seattle society, he began with and continues to focus on young men and the college/young singles crowd (though the church has grown up to include families of all ages). When pastors pray for direction from the Spirit of Christ, they should not expect to know already where they will be sent. Some need to be sent to the trailer parks, some need to be sent to India, some need to be sent to the homeless shelter, and some need to be sent to the coffee shops. But it's awfully easy to think that Jesus wants all the hip, young seminary graduates hanging out at Starbucks and listening to Sufjan Stevens. But we need to listen to our Heavenly General very carefully, and this means spending lots of time in prayer every week.

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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Collecting Stamps and Drinking Hot Chocolate as Spiritual Warfare

Screwtape exhorts his nephew:

I would make it a rule to eradicate from my patient any strong personal taste which is not actually a sin, even if it is something quite trivial such as a fondness for country cricket or collecting stamps or drinking cocoa. Such things, I grant you, have nothing of virtue in them; but there is a sort of innocence and humility and self-forgetfulness about them which I distrust. The man who truly and disinterestedly enjoys any one thing in the world, for its own sake, and without caring twopence what other people say about it, is by that very fact forearmed against some of our subtlest modes of attack. You should always try to make the patient abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favour of the "best" people, the "right" food, the "important" books. I have known a human defended from strong temptations to social ambition by a still stronger taste for tripe and onions.

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Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Glory of Repentance

Repentance and confession of sin is hard. It hurts, it's embarrassing, it's awkward and shameful. Sometimes, people have ignored the sins, hoping they would just go away by themselves. Frequently there have been lies -- both to self and to others -- in order to cope, in order to pretend the pain wasn't there. We manufacture ways of pretending the guilt isn't there.

But it's still there. It haunts us. It hangs down on us. It colors days, nights, weeks, months, years. When the Lord's hand is heavy upon us, there's no peace.

And to live like this is to live like ordinary human beings. Normal people descended from Adam live like this, and they think it strange that we make a big deal about it. Why stress about sin and guilt? Lots of pain, lots of hurt, why not just make the best of hard circumstances? And with a bit of creativity, a few more lies, a hard heart and a stiff upper lip, people can get by. They compensate for the pain and guilt in a million ways, and they do get by.

But there's nothing exceptional about getting by. There's nothing really surprising, nothing astonishing about compensating for sin, making up for failures, coping with guilt. That's all normal, ordinary, and average. And the Christian faith is not interested in helping people cope. The gospel is not interested in helping people do ordinary human things.

Jesus died and rose again and poured out His Spirit upon all flesh in order to remake humanity, in order to raise the sons of earth, in order that a new humanity might emerge empowered by the Spirit. And this new way of being human is not satisfied with the status quo, is not content to live life coping, limping, and bracing. This new way of living is at war with all sin and guilt and evil, and the great weapon we have been granted is the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God which identifies sin, locates it, and then teaches us how to eradicate it. And the Bible calls this warfare repentance.

And this looks crazy. The cross of Christ has always appeared foolish to the world. The cross of Christ is the way of self-denial, the way of humiliation, the way of confession, the way of forgiveness. And it looks and feels like dying, and it is a form of dying. But it is the power of God on display. When Christians repent, when they confess their sins, when they own their faults, their lies, their lust, their immorality, and confess their sins and ask for forgiveness, God forgives them and their sins are washed away.

What looks like folly and what feels awkward and painful (and it is) is simultaneously a wonderful, overflowing glory.

Normal people don't confess their sins. Ordinary human beings don't ask for forgiveness for lies and treachery that no one will ever find out about. Normal people don't do that. But the Spirit isn't for coping; the Spirit isn't a crutch. The Spirit explodes the old ways of doing life, and He empowers people to repent. The Spirit empowers new life. And this new way of being human is far more exotic than walking on water, even more dangerous than calling plagues down on a world dominating empire. This new way of being human is entrusted with the sacred task of doing battle with evil itself. And in the power of the Spirit, with the sword of the Spirit, men and women rip into their own souls, tearing out the old man, tearing out the old cancerous sin.

And that takes courage, that takes guts, and more than that, it takes the new, resurrected life of God in us. But it is glorious. When men and women confess their sins and repent down to the ground, it is like a fireworks display, like a surging army with banners, terrible and grim. Every act of repentance is another earthquake shaking down the old creation, and another ray of sun, the new creation bursting through the shadows.

And that's why God rejoices more over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Lk. 15:7-10). There is a roar of gladness and joy in the presence of God when sinners repent, and the world is a little newer every time the words, "please forgive me," are spoken in sincerity and truth.

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Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Rejoicing in Seedling Faithfulness

It's not particularly hard to grow weary in parenting. Children can seem slow to learn the lessons we teach them over and over and over. How many times have I told you...? And when the kids are young it can seem like they'll never grow up. I imagine parents of older children can feel similar distress, only more intense as they realize the time they have is short. Most of the cement is hardened by high school, and there's not a lot left to be done. Of course there are still important responsibilities, but many parents panic as they see sin and weakness in their children. When they're young it looks like they'll never grow out of their sins, and when they're older it looks like they in fact haven't.

Of course sometimes this is because parents aren't/haven't been faithful. They haven't obeyed the Lord in correcting their sons and daughters, they haven't prayed for them faithfully, and they haven't loved and rejoiced over them. And then they reap what they have sown.

But then there are many faithful parents who still fear the outcome of their children. They toil, they correct, they love, they sacrifice, they pray, they die for their children and expectantly wait, looking for the fruit of their labors. And after slaving in the sun for six years it doesn't look like there's much to show for it. After fifteen years, it can look even more worrisome. All he cares about are dinosaurs and swords when he's six, and now that he's sixteen it's only sports and movies. Where's the spiritual fruit? Where's the devotion to Christ?

But there are at least two points we should make. First, parents should beware of cookie-cutter piety expectations. In other words, what does heartfelt piety look like in a six year old boy versus a six year old girl? What does piety look like in a fifteen year old girl and a fifteen year old boy? Of course worship and prayer and scripture should be central, but we shouldn't shy away from teaching and looking for faithfulness in whatever area our children are into. If it's dinosaurs, you can talk about science and faith, creation and evolution, miracles and magic, mythology and Scripture, Moses and Darwin. If they're into sports and movies, you can talk about courage, loyalty, hard work, discipline, self-control, stories, and virtue. There may be great piety in a sixteen year old boy who refuses to return trash talk to an opposing player, but overbearing parents only see "sports obsession" and miss the fruit of the Spirit. There may be great virtue in a six year old boy who stands up to his classmates insisting the dragons and unicorns are real, and that modern science is mythological bunk, but a faithless parent can only think of the fact that he cries too easily when he's injured. Of course, the flaws and weaknesses should be prayed for and addressed diligently, but not in such a way as to crush the seedling faithfulness in our children.

And this leads into the second point which is that parents always lead most effectively by example. Children grow up to be like their parents. And parents who allow themselves to be overwhelmed by the "to do" list for their kids are still training them. When parents are constantly discouraged at the apparent lack of progress and spiritual maturity in their children, one of the lessons they are teaching is discouragement. Again, there is a place for expressing disappointment for failures; there is a place for teaching, correcting, rebuking, etc. But we want to make sure that this is well balanced with thick, double helping portions of love and delight in the progress of our children.

We have a few bare patches of dirt in our yard, and I planted some grass seed this Spring. But it's been cold here and very slow in sprouting. The other day I was out with my son, and he very helpfully made a sign to stick into the yard by one of the dry patches. The sign is a piece of paper with a kindergartener's scrawl taped to a stick. The sign says (in green crayon letters) "Grass." I called over to him and asked if there was any new grass sprouting yet, and he said "no." I walked over to see his sign and to lament the persistence of the bare patches in the lawn, and at first glance, it certainly appeared that he was right. It all looked like caked, dark brown dirt, like it has for months. But I knelt down and looked a little closer, and I suddenly saw a tiny patch of angel hair sprouts in a tiny section of the bald patch, no larger than a quarter. I pointed it out to my son, and we celebrated our gardening miracle together with expressions of admiration and amazement all mixed together. But as we stared at that little tuft of ten or fifteen slender hairs of grass, we spotted another microscopic forest a few inches away and then another and another. They were tiny, and it would have been easy to miss them. In fact, standing up, I couldn't really see them at all but perhaps for a faint greenish tint, smudging the dirt here and there. I might have easily glanced at the dirt, concluded there was nothing there and walked away discouraged, disheartened, or dejected.

And parenting is that way. We can scrape and labor and teach and discipline for weeks, months, years, and with a glance at the landscape conclude that there is nothing growing. But when we think there is nothing growing and we grow frustrated, that can have adverse effects on our view of the ground and how we treat it. But if we peer more closely and see the tiny fruit, the seedling faithfulness just breaking the surface, it suddenly sends us into joyful tending mode. I suddenly become far more protective of those little bald patches of dirt. And that's how we should feel about our children. There are hard cases, and there are seasons of famine and barrenness. But faith looks to the promises of God, obeys His word, and then looks closely for the little signs of God's blessing. And faith rejoices in even one, tiny sprout of life. And that joy is efficacious, for them and for you. Frequently, we when we find one tiny sprout of faithfulness, we may suddenly become aware of another and another and another. And faith sees God'd provision and faithfulness and looks to Him for more.

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Wednesday, April 21, 2010

No Dragons for Tea

Pride is one of the great dragons every Christian is called to face and battle. But this dragon does not usually introduce himself as a demonic fiend asking to be friends. This dragon comes as an angel of light. He comes like Halloween inside out. The fiend comes in the guise of virtue, dressed up like friend, like a conscientious and pious old lady in a Flannery O'Connor story.

One example of this is in over analyzing and lingering on our own shortcomings and failures. When we have failed, when we have not spoken as clearly as we might like, when the end product is not as sharp or elegant or tasteful as we might have hoped, there is always room to learn, to grow, and to improve. Obviously if there was sin, confess it, ask for forgiveness, and repent. But learn the lesson and move on. If you could have said it better, made a better presentation, or prepared a better dinner, take a moment to note how you might improve in the future, take steps to remember (make a mental note or an actual note), then move on.

But it's exceedingly easy to invite the dragon over for tea. It's easy to put a little leash on the cute fella and lead him around with us for several days or weeks or months or even years. And we remember and regret, remember and retell, remember and bring it up over and over again, constantly whipping out that little mirror checking ourselves out, all in the name of humility or weakness. But that serpent is poison. That dragon is hunting for your soul. Learn the lessons, confess the sins, and then move on.

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Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Grace to Stand In

Forgiven people should be the most humble people. But humble doesn't mean groveling-in-the-mud people. Humble means that you know your standing before the God of the universe. Humility is standing in the presence of the Father, united to the Son, in the power of the Spirit.

But the frequently forgotten part of this is the fact that when we stand in the Son before the Father in the love of the Spirit, we suddenly realize that we are welcome. We suddenly know without a shadow of doubt that we belong there. It's the place we most feared, most dreaded, the place that seemed so far off. And yet when we stand there, and we have honestly confessed our sins and heartily asked for forgiveness, there is only grace.

And this grace is grace that commands us to stand. Grace does not hold us down. Grace does not leave us on the floor begging. Grace is something that we stand in. Grace lifts up the head of the humble and meek. Grace causes us to stand, and this kind of humility stands in confidence. We stand in the presence of the Triune God of the universe, the God who knows all, the God who sees all, the God who welcomes us into His presence.

Forgiven people should be the most humble people, but this humility stands up. This humility is fearless. The humble man knows with every fiber of his being that this is where he belongs. And you've finally come home. So believe the gospel: you are forgiven. You are free.

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Monday, February 15, 2010

The Shepherd and the Lion

My friend and colleague, Joshua Appel, pointed out that 1 Peter 5 actually holds together fairly tightly: moving from exhortation to elders to "shepherd the flock" faithful as those who will give account to the Chief Shepherd ultimately to the exhortation to resist the devil who is a "prowling lion" seeking to devour them.

This is helpful in a couple of ways: First, if the "adversary" and the "the devil" is tied specifically in Peter's mind to the mechanism of persecution (which it seems to be, given 5:9), then the "devil" here would seem to be something similar to the "principalities and powers" spoken of elsewhere which seems to combine demonic beings with earthly, political rulers. The "devil" then is a sort of "ruler" who contrasts with the shepherds of the Chief Shepherd who are called to "rule" in an entirely different sort of way (5:2-3). If the Jews are specifically in Peter's mind, as seems implicit in a number of places in 1 Peter, then Peter is consciously comparing Christian elders to the "shepherds of Israel" who continue to "devour" the flock of God (Ez. 34:2-3).

But secondly the implication is that submission to the Christian elders is submission to protection from these false shepherds, protection from these lions who are seeking to devour the flock of God. Following these elder-shepherds as they follow the example of the Chief Shepherd may very well mean suffering and death, as it did for Jesus, the Chief Shepherd. But after they have suffered a little while, they will be raised up, whether they are delivered from persecution in this life or literally raised from the dead at the end. But notice that this submission is "resistance." The death of Jesus was the death blow of all principalities and powers, the death blow to Satan's project. This means that the suffering and death of Christians is likewise an act of war and resistance. As Revelation puts it: "they overcame [the devil] by the blood of the lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death" (Rev. 12:11).

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Monday, February 02, 2009

Suffering like God

We frequently point out that God allows us to face various trials and difficulties because he wants to make us more like Himself. He wants us to grow in wisdom, in perseverance. He uses suffering and hardship to conform us more and more to the image of the Son. And that is true, but it puts all the emphasis on the end product, the conclusion, what comes after suffering.

But it's good to remember that suffering itself is not something alien to God. Trials and hardships are not something that God himself is not acquainted with. In fact, the history of the world, following the Fall, is in a sense the story of God's suffering and trials and challenges dealing with fallen humanity, the effects of sin, and death. The history of the world is the story of God's perseverance, his wisdom being displayed, his patient endurance with us. All of our sin, our failures, all the disasters and difficulties that confront us, are fundamentally part of the trial that God faces. And this does not mean that God is any way less than God.

But God allows suffering and trials so that we can enter into his own experience, his patience with evil and sin and death. In other words, becoming like God through suffering is not merely the end product or result at the close of a particularly trying time. Rather, the suffering itself, the difficulty, the challenge, the sorrow, the hurt, it is all itself meant to be godlike. And the promise is that it always is for those who have the Spirit dwelling within them. The Spirit sanctifies our trials, our pain, our confusion, and we share in God's endurance, God's own inter-Trinitarian suffering.

Of course if we had any doubt, it is the life of Christ that displays this with the most certainty. Christ, as the revelation of God, reveals God's life. Christ is the embodiment of God's dealings with humanity in all of time and space. Christ takes up into himself the suffering of God with the faithless generation in the wilderness, the cyclical patterns of idolatry and oppression in the days of the Judges, the wickedness of his people under the kings. And none of this touches on the rest of humanity in all of its ugliness and perversion and the raging of nature in its groaning for the redemption of the sons of God. Christ embodies all that past history, but also takes up into his patient suffering the entire history of the world, the life of the world. He is God come to endure, come to persevere in the midst of sin and death and suffering.

This is how suffering the effects of a fallen world, suffering persecution, suffering under whatever affliction we face is suffering like God. God grants us the privilege of becoming more like him by the actual endurance of trials, hardships, and suffering. And of course we also look forward to the joy of God, the peace of God, the final restoration of all things in God. We have been united to this God, joined to that community in the power of the Spirit, and the promise is the resurrection and joy that awaits us. And in that, is the promise that the ending of our story is the same ending that Christ was given, in that promise we live now knowing that our beginning and middle are just as godlike, just as holy, just as redemptive as we live by faith in the power of the Spirit.

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Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Peterson on Prayer and the Middle Voice

Eugene Peterson says that prayer is like the middle voice.

Active and Passive voices we know fairly well. Active means the subject is doing the verb; passive means the subject is being acted upon by someone or something else. Middle voice "is that use of the verb which describes the subjects as participating in the results of the action." Peterson uses the example of "counsel." "I counsel my friend" is in the active voice. "I am counseled by my friend" is in the passive voice. "I take counsel" is the middle voice. In the middle voice the subject participates in the results of the action which is initiated by someone else.

In prayer, we are invited to join the deliberations of the heavenly assembly and particularly, we are invited to participate in the council and deliberations of the Father, Son, and Spirit. We, like Abraham, reason with God; we, like Moses, are invited to present our case before the Godhead. But we have been granted participation in God far beyond what the faithful patriarchs enjoyed. We have the status of sons; we have been given the Spirit which cries out to God, "Abba, Father!" We are joined to the Son by the Spirit and are welcome to speak with the Father about the state of our life, the state of our family, the state of our world. We are invited to participate in what God is doing in the world. We are not the primary actors or initiators, but we are expected to participate in and join in the action through pleas, through our intercession, through our cries for mercy.

Peterson explains: "Prayer and spirituality feature participation, the complex participation of God and the human, his will and our wills. We do not abandon ourselves to the stream of grace and drown in the ocean of love, losing identity. We do not pull the strings that activate God's operations in our lives, subjecting God to our assertive identity. We neither manipulate God (active voice) nor are manipulated by God (passive voice). We are involved in the action and participate in its results but do not control or define it (middle voice). Prayer takes place in the middle voice." (The Contemplative Pastor, 103-104)

Of course when we think of results we usually think about what we want to see happen or change. But participating in the results doesn't necessarily mean that what we want actually happens. Of course in the cases of Abraham and Moses we see instances where prayer does prevail with God. But if we have been granted the status of sons, and we have the Spirit of Christ, then we have to remember that much of our prayer may be like Christ's prayer. And some of the clearest glimpses of Christ's prayer life are seen in the garden just before his arrest and betrayal. Christ's prayers participated in the results of the action of God in the world, but we know from Christ's own words, he struggled through that, he argued and pleaded with his Father in his circumstances, while perfectly trusting the will of his Father. Praying like sons may mean facing similar situations as the Son in the garden, the Son before Pilate, the Son on the Cross. But of course that should come as no surprise since that same Son invited us to follow him by taking up a cross. But the hope of course is that the same result as came to the Son comes to every son. Resurrection awaits all every son of God.

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Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Finney on Seminary Education

When Charles Finney was encouraged to attend Princeton Seminary to get a deeper theological training (he was a laywer before his conversion), he declined. When someone offered to pay his way he declined again, explaining, "I plainly told them that I would not put myself under such influence as they had been under. I was confident that they had been wrongly educated and were not ministers that met my ideal of what a minister of Christ should be." (47)

Later, discussing the criticisms that many of his fellow Presbyterian ministers leveled at his ministry and preaching style, he says that he remained unconvinced of their criticisms given the fruit he saw from their ministries compared with his own. "I am still solemnly impressed with the conviction that the schools are to a great extent spoiling the ministers." (72)

He goes on: "Ministers in these days have great facilities for obtaining information on all theological questions, and are vastly more learned, so far as theological, historical, and Bible learning is concerned, than they perhaps have ever been in any age of the world. Yet with all their learning they do not know how to use it. They are, after all, to a great extent like David in Saul's armor." (73)

This last point is clearly even more true today than in his day. Given the wealth, the vast resources of the American Church, the relatively high level of education, etc., the state of our nation does not reveal a great benefit for all that.

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Friday, November 21, 2008

The Fifth Commandment

It seems to me that one of the greatest needs of the Church at large is a recovery of and thereby a thorough repentance with regard to the fifth commandment.

The command to honor father and mother is not limited to merely honoring mom and dad. Honoring father and mother applies to all lawful authorities. Civil magistrates are fathers and mothers, pastors and elders are fathers and mothers, teachers, employers, principles, police men, uncles, grandparents, older siblings and all others 'over us' in our lives are fathers and mothers due honor and respect and as far as possible obedience.

Strikingly, one of the places where we are in the greatest danger regarding our keeping of the fifth commandment is in some of the most conservative, family-values sorts of homes and communities. In the Leave-It-To-Beaver outposts of conservative Christianity there is frequently a robust disregard of authority that is being lived out by moms and dads, and the lesson is being learned fabulously by their children.

So this is the drill: Dad leads the family, mom teaches the kids, bakes amazing dinners, and the kids all generally obey and are respectful. The family is all squeaky clean. But when any lawful authority imposes upon mom and dad, the reality bursts out into the open. So for example, when the elders of a presbyterian church do not allow the young children of this family to partake of the Lord's Supper, the parents throw a pietistic hissy-fit, cause a ruckus, and leave to find a church that will allow them to do what they want.

And of course it is all done with somber faces and pious tones. There are solemn conversations about following the conscience and submitting to Scripture, and all the rest.

But the kids are busy taking notes: "Always get your own way. If they say 'no,' throw a fit and leave."

Or maybe the issue is baptism or education or taxes or in-laws or grandparents.

And my suspicion is that the consequences may frequently be worse in good, Christian families. The greater the order, the better the lesson is learned. The more engaged the kids are, the more likely they will get the point. The more strictly they are required to "obey dad" while this is going on, the more clearly they will get the point.

And so ironically, the home where the fifth commandment is most fervently venerated on the surface may in fact be the breeding ground for some of the worst dishonor, some of the most flagrant disrespect and disobedience.

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Monday, October 27, 2008

Rendered Harmless

In The Contemplative Pastor Eugene Peterson writes: "But if I, even for a moment, accept my culture's definition of me, I am rendered harmless. I can denounce evil and stupidity all I wish and will be tolerated in my denunciations as a court jester is tolerated. I can organize their splendid goodwill and they will let me do it, since it is only for weekends.

The essence of being a pastor begs for redefinition. To that end, I offer three adjectives to clarify the noun: unbusy, subversive, apocalyptic." (16)

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