Over the last year or so, I’ve stretched myself theologically on so many levels. I’ve called into question many things I’ve believed wholeheartedly my entire life. I’ve bent my beliefs to the point of nearly breaking them. But by the Grace of God, I am only more in love with Jesus and the Scriptures.

But that A.W. Tozer quote puts so succinctly what Paul was getting at in 1 Corinthians 13: that knowledge and understanding, by themselves, are completely meaningless.

Am I, or have I been, completely spiritually empty? No. Have I been close? Of course. There has been some shaking of my spiritual life and community in general that has factored into this spiritual emptiness—this disconnected feeling—and I have been working towards healing and making those situations right. But beyond that, its just been too heavy of a focus on learning ABOUT God, and less of a focus on abiding IN God. Spending time WITH Him.

Do I believe theology and doctrine are unimportant? Not by any means. But I do believe there needs to be a perfect balance, and God has been tipping my scales in the right direction.

In the last few weeks, God has been doing a work in me. He has rekindled the experiential side of my faith. He has given me a new passion for walking with Him. He has, in a way, made me a little bored with theology for the time being. He has been more clearly and loudly showing His presence as the third (well, first) member of my wife and I’s “marital trinity”. I’m feeling less and less inclined to argue a theological point that, in light of the bigger picture, is more than likely near-meaningless anyway. I’m feeling less and less cynical. I’m feeling emotional again.

Best of all, I’m rediscovering Jesus for WHO HE IS, not for who I think He is. And I’m falling in love with Him all over again.

I totally understand what Israel said. To boil it down, generally, if you are a Christian who was raised in America, you have dealt with fear, guilt, homophobia, hatred of other religions and those not like you, etc. Many of us have discovered God’s wonderful, beautiful grace in the midst of this, and are “recovering fundamentalists” as Israel put it. This is a grace that is sufficient. This is a grace that knows that the Way of Love is the true way to live. The real Gospel.

And he proposes that we might be better off because of this. Our upbringing, our Christian culture, is what led us to this beautiful grace and mercy. We have been hungry for the true Gospel, and It’s been out of our reach, because of all the bullshit holding us back. I get that. And do I think that hunger is somewhat amplified by American religious Christianity? Sure. Are we better off because of being raised that way? This is where I disagree.

Maybe I’m thinking this way because I am a father. I have two beautiful boys. I would gladly take a bullet for each of them. There is nothing in me that wants to see them experience heartbreak or true, deep suffering. When I think about my Christian roots—first in the Reformed/Calivinist church, and then in the Baptist church, then in and out of non-denominational churches, capped off with a Pentecostal church—I think of all the times I felt guilty, not good enough, unable to measure up to some standard, and on top of that, seeing what was obvious hypocrisy in those teaching me how to be “a follower of Christ”. Was I hungry for grace, hope, and love after that? Oh yeah. But at the same time, I think there is a measure of deep heart-and-mind-suffering that I went through—and I don’t think I needed to.

Our hearts long for peace, hope, and love. We long for this beautiful gift of Grace. It’s what our hearts are MADE for. Why not just let that longing take charge? I really think that if we raised our children in grace, hope, and love—the true Way of Jesus—from the start, and didn’t instill this sense of religion, this owning up, this guilty, shameful existence, that longing would grab hold and exponentially grow. Imagine if you were raised from the get-go knowing who you ARE, who you ARE made to be, who you ARE made in the image of, rather than who you should be, or what you aren’t. We would have a lot more joy, I think. And a lot less sinning. And a much better public image as a faith movement.

I know there are still religious Christians. I would venture to say more than there aren’t. I know my sons will have to deal with it at some point. But it is my prayer and hope that they be raised with a true sense of what grace is. What love is. What hope is. What peace is. So that they can be a witness of the true Gospel to Christians and non-Christians alike. A witness to the abundant life that can only be found in the Way of walking in love.

And I’m sure going to  try.

I believe I am redeemed by Gods grace and blood. I have no qualms saying that, it’s taken me a long time to realize and accept that. But I also wonder if I would have come to that point of realizing or even caring about it if I hadn’t been overwhelmed with the sinful mindsets I was instilled with. The hate I felt for muslims, gays and democrats (recovering fundamentalist) and the guilt I carried around for the millions of wounds I afflicted on Christ were things that drove my eyes to the cross and Christ’s sacrifice. Was it in the end, good to be riddled with those atrocities? Would I have looked for hope and grace if I was raised away from the warped mindset of earning your salvation (or repenting every 5 minutes)?

I don’t write this with any condemnation, merely regret and repentance. In the last few years I’ve denied, wrestled with & accepted (wash,rinse,repeat) the grace my god has bestowed unconditionally over and over. Through hundreds of conversations and dialogues I’ve come to amazing restoration for those parties mentioned but still have heaps of things on my spiritual ‘to-do’ list. I also have tremendous hope for the path before me as I transition from Romero-ish zombie to a less dead creature of mercy. I’m reminded of the stories of God constantly making good from the horrible things we do (even in God’s name). This is testament to the God of restoration.

Resurrection day.

I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve been to many churches, been a part of many denominations. One thing all these churches agree on is the Resurrected Christ. That’s a good thing. But the view of the Resurrected Christ that I’ve taken part in my whole life goes something like this:

The tomb opens. It’s empty. The angels say “don’t be scared.” Then the disciples see Jesus wearing a blue sash with holes in his hands, and a smile on his face that says, somewhat sarcastically, “What were you worried about? Everything’s alright, baby!” And then we all say “Aww yay! Jesus is risen!” And go on with our lives Monday morning, eating leftover candy the Easter Bunny left in his eggs (seriously, am I the only one who doesn’t get that? Bunnies laying eggs?).

I may be exaggerating a little. I am. But you get it. We all know what our American culture has painted the Easter story to be. And believe me, I do think that some of that story is good. I kind of like it in a way. But the Resurrection is so much deeper than this.

This year, I am trying to really look deeper into Jesus’ eyes when I run into Him post-empty tomb. I am really trying to understand the depth and beauty of what taking part in His Resurrection means. And the deeper I go, the more unsettled I get.

Not a bad unsettled, necessarily. It’s more just realizing how big of a deal it is. And how much of the idea I still don’t really get.

It’s the miracle-of-all-miracles. It changed the world forever. It subverted the empirical system at the time, and continues to subvert any system we could ever think of. It didn’t cheat death, it defeated it. Most importantly, the Resurrection ushered in God’s mercy and grace to ALL OF US. Jesus leveled the playing field.

Before being nailed to the cross, Jesus knew more suffering than most of humanity knows. In that suffering, beyond atonement, God showed how much He loves us and identifies with our pain and suffering. And on the cross, Jesus was even worried. He felt forsaken. He seemed sure, yet unsure, that all of this was going to work. Jesus’ fully human side came out in full force during his last few moments on the cross. Jesus was fully with us, in a way that we could understand.

And yet, three days later, the tomb is empty. Jesus was victorious over death. We get to see the one place where we truly find life—in the Resurrected Christ.

In becoming human, giving himself to death, and then in defeating that death, God has shown us not the good news, but the best news: that EVERYONE has hope for victory because of the fact that HE IS RISEN.

Here is a short piece that I did for an event at our church that further illustrates this idea:

Don’t get me wrong, I love reason. I love logic. I love science. I absolutely love reading and learning. As a kid, I used to read encyclopedias for fun. And now, I still find myself getting sucked into 45-minute Wikipedia binges.

But the adverse of that, my faith is strong. My faith is real. I have had some real, unexplainable-by-reason-or-logic experiences with the Most High. I have seen the Father work in ways in my life that just can’t be explained by conventional ideas or coincidence. And to me, that’s alright.

The balance has been off lately. I’ve been deconstructing my faith for no other reason than deconstructing it. I’ve been pursuing knowledge far above the equally as (if not more) important experience.

Through prayer and listening, I feel like God has shown me tons of grace for this deconstruction, but He has given me a better blueprint for it.

I’m calling it “constructive deconstruction.”

My brother Evan is a bike mechanic. A damn good one, at that. I was thinking the other day about how he learned so much about bikes and how they work. He learned about them the same way other boys learn about mechanics and electronics and things: taking them apart. Deconstruction, not for the sake of breaking something, but for the sake of learning more about it, and possibly even improving on it. What are the core parts? How do they function? What is their purpose? What can I remove without losing that function or purpose?

I’m sure you can see where I’m going here. We can strip our faith down to it’s very core, learn more about what we really believe, and maybe improve on it by adding a little logic and reason to it all.

What does every bike have? A frame, a chain, pedals, handlebars, a seat, and wheels. Other things such as multiple gears, brakes, reflectors, water bottle holders, and splash guards definitely are good things. They serve their purpose. But they aren’t necessary to the function of the bike, right?

As a Christian, I have my orthodoxy. I have my Apostles’ and Nicene creeds. I have the very core, functional things of my faith: a triune creator-God, authority of Scriptures, salvation by grace through the resurrection of Jesus, a promise of hope and peace for the future, a community of brothers and sisters to stand with—you get the point. I can add other theologies and doctrines and lifestyle choices and other things on top of this that are all good and purposeful, but not essential. Just like a bike, we always benefit from learning more about it’s function and removing the unneeded things, to make our ride as light and efficient as possible. Not saying it’s easy—you will know what I mean if you’ve ever taken a fixed-gear bike for a ride.

I’ll take the analogy one step farther, which is God, through his grace, meeting us where we are at. My brother has a room full of bike parts: frames, wheels, gears, handlebars, shocks, and the like. He can custom-build a multitude of bikes for any occasion, any terrain. If he is going to be riding in the mountains or in the woods, he’ll throw some extra gears on, use a stronger frame, and use fat, knobby tires. If he’s going to be tooling around the city, chances are he’ll have nothing but thin road tires and a single, fixed gear. The bike is different, but it still has the same core parts, and still serves the same purpose: riding. Some people need certain types of theology, certain types of doctrine, certain takes on the Gospel in order to really “get” it. Some people need nothing more than the basics. Some people need some bells and whistles to help them move forward. But at it’s core, there’s still only one unchanging Gospel. One Gospel that serves one purpose.

For me, adding knowledge helps me find the beauty in the Gospel. I am constantly learning. Learning new stuff about the history of the Bible, the historical Jesus, the different cultures that the scriptures were written in—sometimes taking it to the point of questioning some core elements of my faith. But when I step back and look at it, I think to myself: “I know that I still need that wheel. I know I still need those handlebars.” That’s what keeps me pressing on towards Jesus. I know that He is real, and I still believe in the core doctrines and purpose of this faith I hold so dearly.

Lately, the scale has been tipped too far in the knowledge direction. I don’t want to become a gnostic. I don’t want to make knowledge my god, I want knowledge to compliment my God.  Sometimes I just need to remember what’s important.

Sometimes I need to replace the inner-tube on the tire to keep it inflated.

Sometimes I need to grease the chain up to keep the ride smooth.

And I thank God everyday for keeping me on the bike.

⁶So when they had come together, they were asking Him, saying, “Lord, is it at this time You are restoring the kingdom to Israel?” ⁷He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or epochs which the Father has fixed by His own authority; ⁸but you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth.”

The thing that popped out to me as I read it this time is the question before the verse 8 bomb. “is it at this time you are restoring the kingdom to Israel”. They were asking a very specific question regarding their own desires, probably to be out from the rule of the Romans. Jesus comes back and says ‘none of your business guys, BUT you’re going to be a part of this restoration you asked about through the power the Holy Spirit and the world will see it’.

With new perspective comes new understanding.

I see this as less of a ‘go, tell everyone you know about Jesus’ and more of an invitation and foretelling of the world they were about to change by ushering in the Kingdom of heaven to earth, not the other way around. In our culture there seems to be a lot of emphasis on spreading the good news to get people to heaven while leaving the earth in a trash heap which I obviously think is the infection of our society on the Gospel. That’s not to say that we are not to evangelize, but as the last thing Jesus said on earth I think it’s important to realize we are part of His kingdom and our world just happens to be the playing field. We are to be witnesses, but through the different lenses.

~Israel

Today, we are done.

I have been reflecting on the last six weeks, and the absolute outpouring of blessing on our family. It’s been really easy to take it for granted, until looking back and seeing all of it. From friends and family coming and doing tile in the bathroom, doing the floors in the kitchen and bathroom, painting with us, cleaning, looking at our furnace, to financial blessings here and there (and without this, Christmas probably wouldn’t have happened this year), and even as simple as just being with us, spending time with us, and praying for us. It’s crazy and beautiful to see what a community of people will do for one another. Especially a community deeply rooted in a love for Christ.

As I was reflecting on this yesterday, a piece of scripture popped into my mind:

“For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst.” – Matthew 18:20

Everything in me starts screaming “out of context!” Which is true. Using that scripture in this specific context does go against pretty much every part of my personal hermeneutic. But I also do believe that the the Word is a Living Word, and in this case, I really do think that there is something to this scripture as it relates to this situation.

In context, the verse is one of many talking about interpersonal relationships. We often use this verse to talk about God’s presence in our worship and fellowship gatherings, which personally I think is kind of a weak interpretation, but it kind of works in a feel-good way. The context is all talking about how relate to one another, especially in confronting one another and dealing with sin amongst our community.  But in that context of interpersonal relationships, I think it kind of works here.

I think it speaks a lot to a community of believers. We are made to be in community with one another. We are created in the image of a triune God, a God that eternally lives in community. Here we are, friends and family firmly rooted in Christ, and one family is in need, and literally EVERYONE steps up in their own ways and using their own gifts. In this type of community relationship, I find it impossible to NOT see God’s hand or feel His presence in it. I can’t take a step without bumping into Him somehow. It’s a beautiful thing, and I hope to keep experiencing it more and more, and give back in the same way that I’ve been given such blessing.

So, if you are reading this and you have directly been a part of our process over the last six weeks, thanks. We truly are “two or three” (which I think is just a way of saying people together) gathered in His name. And He is undeniably in our midst.

We’ve mostly been sitting in Hebrews 3:13: “encourage each other daily.” We’ve been talking a lot about gossip, a lot about idle talk, and a lot about just building each other up rather than the opposite. This has all been meaningful and awesome, and I know that many of us in our community have continued to talk about it and keep each other accountable in playing it out in our own lives, but I think there are a couple more applications of this encouragement idea outside of our typical viewpoint.

One of them is rebuke. Ugh, rebuke. REBUKE. What a scary old word. Truthfully, I hate the word. A lot. Hearing it generally makes me cringe. I don’t hate it because of its meaning. I hate it because of its stigma. I think to myself “why do we continue to use this word that really only makes a ton of sense to us Christians? Especially one that is so scary-sounding? Isn’t there a better word we can use instead?”

Oh yeah, encouragement.

Isn’t that really all it is? Or at least all it should be? In my opinion, a rebuke should never come out of any emotion other than joy. Joy that you know you are showing someone that there is a better way. A better way with abundant life. A rebuke should be an encouragement to the person, an encouragement to turn around and look at the life they are missing because of whatever sin or attitude they are steeped in. A rebuke should never discourage someone. It should never leave the person feeling guilty. It should be an encouragement full of GRACE. Isn’t that how our Father does it?

This kind of leads to the other application I was talking about: evangelism.

How differently do you think this world would look at us Christians if our evangelism was nothing more than graceful encouragement? The same as I was talking before—an encouragement to open their eyes and see the abundant life they are missing.

What if the street preacher, instead of pointing out someone and telling them they are doomed, decided to gracefully let them know that there is a better way to live? A way of life that is full of abundance? I think we would start to see more and more true repentance, and less and less hate for the Gospel. It’s not forsaking the truth, it’s just taking the focus off of death, and moving it onto life.

So, I say lets keep—or start—encouraging. Lets start showing people that there’s more to LIFE than this.

Throughout the course of the weekend, I was continually reflecting on these lyrics from the song “Circles” by Thrice:

“True progress means changing the world to the vision in our heads, but we always change the vision instead.”

Just typing them out sends chills down my spine. I haven’t read lyrics in quite some time that ring not only so universally true, but incredibly true to me. How many times and in how many places in my life did I have some great vision—some great idea or passion—that over time just kind of fell by the wayside, or that I just dumbed down to the point of punching the clock?

I know I’ve been called to great works. We all have. It’s just up to us to see them through. I know that I’d love to have my hand held and pulled along, knowing when to do this or that, knowing exactly how my passion and vision gets played out. But where’s the fun in that? And where’s the challenge?

So when it comes to the vision that you have, the idea you have (that one that deep down you know is great), the passion you have, I have one challenge:

What are you waiting for?

Let’s stop compromising the ABUNDANT LIFE promised to us just to stay comfortable.