Be More Judgmental Like Jesus

Judgmental. Perhaps the most commonly-wielded accusation against evangelical Americans. And I think it’s an apt descriptor. We ARE judgmental. It causes enormous problems not just for our public image but also for our relationships with each other. That’s why I’ve done everything in my power for the last 4 years to break off the judgmental tendencies which have damaged and destroyed several of my close relationships over the years. I’ve searched high and low for the secret to an attitude of acceptance (btw- the secret is receiving acceptance from God to a greater extent and from others to a lesser extent). I’ve found acceptance is a better foundation for relationship and gets me in much less trouble. But I keep running up against things I have a hard time accepting. So I’m left asking… is tolerance all it’s cracked up to be?

Jesus was intolerant. In fact, it was his intolerance that got him killed. In John 7, he says to a couple of his brothers, “The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify that what it does is evil.”

What!? I thought Jesus was supposed to be a “friend of sinners”. Now I imagine him in a big church preaching hellfire against gays and democrats. But when I look at his life, I don’t SEE the kind of standard moralizing I see in our churches today. He has a few sharp words for the man-on-the-street: “You’re only following me because I fed you bread.” Or… “stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” But there’s also, “Woman, has no one condemned you? Then neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” Stories of Jesus with prostitutes, tax collectors, and sinners…. Seems he’s in the business of offering life to the traditionally-rejected. In fact if Jesus came back today, I kinda think he might go drinking with his buddies at gay bars. I’m just saying….!

So where is the brunt of his judgment against the world felt? In the institution! It’s no coincidence that after his comment to his brothers in John 7, he goes to a Jewish Feast and says, “Has not Moses given you the law. Yet not one of you keeps the law.” Whoa! Imagine how it would feel if someone walked into your Christmas Eve service and said, “Not one of you understands the birth of Jesus. You are all hypocrites!” But this is where the judgment of Jesus is felt most strongly: in our religious and cultural establishments.

I don’t think evangelicals should stop judging. I just think we ought to redirect our focus. It’s easy for us to judge gay couples, moms who choose abortion, welfare dependants, and criminals. The behavior is apparent. But when it comes to greed we say, “money is a private matter.” We become quite docile and accepting when we see racism or sexism in the church. Justice for illegal immigrants? Well that’s too hot to touch isn’t it? And we would never judge the consolidation of power because we reward personal ambition in our culture.

It’s Jesus who sharply tells the crowds, “Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.” In other words, it’s time to judge like Jesus. It’s time to start judging the heart and avoid the judgments that justify us: “Well I’m not perfect, but at least I’m not like THOSE people!” I want to look close to home before I shotgun my judgment against other groups. And when I criticize I want it to be against hypocrisy in my family, the Church.

If I must be hated, I really hope to be hated by other Christians.

Slight redaction and John 6: "Is it really that simple?"

Okay, redaction first: I recently wrote a blog entry trying to come to terms with the fact that support-raising is SLOW. I was learning that God may have a purpose for us being stuck in this season longer than we thought. But I was still feeling bummed about being poor. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that in every season of my life, God has amazingly and wonderfully provided for everything we need! Seriously! Our support level isn’t enough to move to Georgia, but it is plenty to live on here. We have free rent, free healthcare, supportive family and friends…. We have enough! It makes me suspicious that when it is TIME to move, we’ll have enough for that too. It frees me to listen to what the Spirit tells me to do and DO it rather than sit around doing the math and figuring out what I have enough to do. Well…. After that blog entry I got home and opened a $4,000 check from our ministry! Several people HAD responded to our year-end appeal and one person we’d never met had cut us an enormous check for $1,600. Crazy huh? The surplus should cover an upcoming “scouting” trip to Georgia and a couple other big needs. I was blown away. It felt just like God to work on my heart about support-raising all day, bringing me to a place of contentment, and then blow me out of the water with His awesome provision. So, I’m not bummed anymore. I’m actually really excited. I feel free once again to go out on a limb to listen and trust… trusting Father to provide. Okay. John 6.

Jesus feeds 5,000, walks on water, and talks about the bread of life. This chapter reads with such beauty, simplicity, and potency. I’m left with this feeling of Jesus reaching out his hand and saying, “do you trust me?” “It can’t be that simple Lord,” I respond. And he keeps saying, “What if it was that simple?”

Jesus, stuck in the wilderness with 5,000 hungry men and their families. A logistical nightmare. This is complicated. While the disciples do the math (8 months wages would buy everyone a single bite)…. Jesus thinks, “I know! Let’s just ask my Father to multiply these 5 rolls and 2 fish until everyone is full! Simple.

Jesus wants to hang out a little longer so he sends the disciples off in the only boat they have. In the middle of the night he decides to join them again. Walk around the lake? Hijack another boat? Hmmm… I know! I’ll walk on water to them! Simple.

Here come the crowds, looking for another meal and Jesus says, “Do not work for food that spoils but for food that endures to eternal life, which the son of man will give you… I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never go thirsty.” What could this food be that endures to eternal life? The abiding presence of God! John 15! Unity of heart and purpose with the Father. How do I get it? Just by trusting the one who gives it. And what happens if I eat it? I’ll never be hungry or thirsty again. Simple.

So… are we saying that if I just spend my energy turning my heart and life over to the Father, believing what He says, that I’ll be totally provided for? I really had to think about that one… but I think the answer is yes. God and I were talking about it some more today and he explained to me that in life, I WILL have to work to provide bread for myself and my family not because he made me to provide but because he made me to work. The mystery of it is that I’m never the one providing it! I’m only the one responding in obedience to His call to work. He writes the paychecks! Boy this is a tough one for me. Because the minute I start working, I start trusting myself for the results. But in support-raising, I don’t always see my hard work pay off. Other times, I do very little and see miraculous provision. It helps me see ONCE AGAIN that my domain is obedience and trust. His is provision.

And I think it really is that simple. So I’d like to recalibrate my energy towards listening, resting, believing, and trusting him. I think that’s what he means by “working” for food that endures. After all, when the crowds ask, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” Jesus cryptically responds, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” …Simple.

Dear Everyone: Sorry. I Kinda Freaked Out

In my line of work, I’m constantly having blind dates with people I’ve never met. Friends of friends, pastors, fellow missionaries. Let just say I have a big budget for coffee. Today, I met with Dan, a missionary-gone-pastor in Minneapolis and he reminded me of something important that I’ve learned, and relearned, and relearned, and relearned: that my domain is work and trust; not results.

I’ve been on staff with Worldwide Discipleship Association for over 18 months. For 18 months I’ve tried to raise enough support to move to Atlanta and do disciple-building fulltime in Georgia and on trips to Africa several times a year. I love the vision and I love the ministry. I can’t wait to get going. But I’ve been at it for a while now and the going is slow at times. I can’t tell you how many times someone has asked, “so… how long have you been on staff? Where are you with your support?” Usually a concerned look or a raised eyebrow follows my reply. This weekend, a missionary told me, “boy this is going to be really hard for you.”

Anxiety. Fear of failure. Fear of mediocrity. Fear of getting stuck in Minnesota’s cold winters for years and years. Fear of… insignificance.

When we traveled the country last September looking for support, we felt tremendous freedom to NOT be salespeople. A mentor encouraged us to care for the needs of others along the way rather than seeking to meet our own needs. He encouraged us to trust God for results and be flexible, obedient each day. We did our best. We met with as many people as possible, even if we knew they wouldn’t support us. We listened to people’s hearts, encouraged them, prayed for them, and tried to be authentic and vulnerable along the way.

The results on paper? 3 new supporters. I won’t lie, I was bummed. So I took a seminar on support raising. I followed their model and wrote a year-end appeal for funds. Maybe you got one? I think 2 people responded. Sigh… I always thought I’d be a shoe-in at this missionary thing. I’m well-connected, relational, passionate, communicative. When I signed up for this, I knew I’d have hard work ahead of me. But it’s been harder than I imagined.

So here I am: still dead set on doing this thing. But wondering why I’m still here. Why am I still here?

But now I’m thinking…. Maybe God’s more patient than I am. As my new friend Dan just pointed out: Elijah was in hiding for 3 years in a cave, doing nothing significant but being fed by ravens. I think of Elijah as the guy who called down fire from heaven on Mt. Carmel, wielding God’s power against a bunch of false prophets. Not bad for a day in the office. But here he was for YEARS, hanging out alone in a cave with birds for waiters. There are a lot of waiting periods for people in the bible. The mature folks knew how to accept those periods gracefully as people who were at peace with themselves and able to trust the Father with each moment.

Each day I work hard at this thing (as Father encouraged me to). But too often I take it an extra step and start relying on myself to get results and start feeling bummed when the desired results aren’t there. What if it takes me 2 years? 5 years? The funny thing is that I’m the only one who’s freaked out. All my supporters have communicated nothing but support (duh!) all the way. Nobody’s worried that it’s taking a long time. They all seem to trust the Father’s purpose and intentionality in my life more than I do! They give me a lot more slack than I give myself.

Back in August, when God was rocking my heart with lots of love and emotional healing, I felt the purposefulness of the season. There was a sweetness to my growth and personal discipleship. I felt that the more time I spent in Minnesota, the better my ministry would be later. In my line of work you HAVE to practice what you preach so I felt like God had me in “quality control” for a while until I was mature enough to simply BE a disciple before I MADE disciples. In that time, he told me that one lie he would confront in my heart was the lie that “productivity determines my worth.” I guess that one hasn’t sunk into my skull yet! I’ve been chomping at the bit for weeks and everyone else has been telling me to chill out.

If you’ve seen me stressed out or discouraged… like I have to be on duty all the time, looking for support, providing my own needs, playing the part of missionary par excellence…. I’m sorry. That’s not how I want to operate. Truth is, I’m learning that all I’ve got is today. 24 hours is an acceptable amount of time. Minnesota is an acceptable place. I have acceptable relationships. I do acceptable work. I can rest secure in who I am (accepted) and trust Father for results and for the future. (Isn’t it funny how the best stuff we learn as adults is the same stuff we learned as kids? I suppose the whole “don’t worry about tomorrow“ thing applies to me too.)

So… I resolve to chill out.

Wrath from a Father's Perspective

Since my son was born a week ago, my father-protector instincts have been off the charts. I feel such intense love and loyalty not only for Levi but also for my wife and daughter that I feel a ferocious compulsion to keep them safe from all harm. When I have perceived one of them being harmed, isolated, bullied, or shamed, I have reacted with surprising anger. It’s not just that I’m upset by the offender’s behavior and its unfortunate consequences on my family. The full force of my personal hatred for another human being is focused on that single person in that moment. Even if the offender is a close friend, I find that all my previous compassion and loyalty for that person is consumed in a split second by a murderous personal vendetta against them. I would sooner wipe them off the face of the earth than let them injure my own. I don’t care about the personal or environmental reasons for their behavior. All that matters in that moment is my family’s safety and wellbeing.

I’ve been totally taken aback by this response because I’m passive and rational by nature. I fear uncontrolled emotion, and 9 times out of 10 I’d rather internalize pain than defend myself. So this furious protectiveness is completely outside my comfort zone. I keep wondering if I’ve strayed from the gospel, imagining that passivity and grace are somehow tied together.

But the more I read the bible, the more I’m inclined to believe that I’m experiencing a microcosm of God’s Father heart for his creation. 4 months ago, I began to experience a profound sense of the Father’s love for me. Wave upon wave of His grace, acceptance, and delight washed over me in a daily encounter with Love. THAT experience empowered me to pull out of my miserly shell of judgmentalism and shame-based religion. Others close to me began to feel the overflow of that profound love that is free of accusation or moral browbeating.

Then I got to thinking…. If this is how much God loves His children, how does He feel when another person hurts His child? Suddenly the images of God riding on a thundercloud, melting mountains, and demanding justice started to make sense. I could understand why my sweet huggable Jesus is depicted in Isaiah as a man treading the winepress of God’s fury, robes stained with the blood of nations…. Or as the rider in Revelation with a deadly double-edged sword protruding from his mouth.

I began to understand Jesus’ fury when he shouted to the Pharisees, “Hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are.” It’s not that Jesus hated Pharisees, but that he deeply loved people and that love displaced any shred of permissive compassion for those who wound His little children. No wonder he says, “It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

What if God’s wrath didn’t come from an esoteric, abstract sense of justice? What if it came from a deep fatherly love multiplied by infinity? What if it really was personal?

In light of that… yes, I believe in Hell. If God’s love for His people is infinite and eternal, it makes sense that His final judgment against the wicked is neither temporary nor annihilistic. If suffering and love both exist, then wrath must also exist.

So it’s one of those paradoxes that I’ve grown accustomed to in the Christian faith. I live my life confidant of the tender, father heart of God. But at the same time, God scares the hell out of me because I know that His tender love extends to all people and I haven’t always treated others graciously. It’s not just a deferential respect towards my creator but a real sense of awe and fear.

As my fierce protective love for my family grows, so grows my understanding of God’s fierce personal love for His own and His wrath towards those who stand in opposition to that love.