the (ir)reverend

why i hate (vain) religion and love jesus

2012-01-02T11:26:00.000+08:00

A spoken word poem: Why I Hate Religion But Love Jesus. Skipping the nit-picking of nitty-gritty technicals (it's a poem after all, not a research paper), I say big amen to this.
.

what's in your wishlist?

2011-12-12T12:46:00.001+08:00

Found this thought-provoking image floating around cyberspace.

If you truly believe that it's better to give than to receive, go extreme this Holiday season. Instead of giving people you know some stuff they probably will forget about after January, how about giving to people who are really in need?

You don't have to go far to show kindness to the needy. Every city has homeless people, orphans, widows. And no matter how penniless you feel, remember that there will always be someone poorer than you - your house helper, the manong vendor, the security guard at your office building. Go beyond relief goods give them brand new, high-quality food and items you would be glad to receive yourself. Why not, right?
.

if jesus had a facebook account, what sort of contacts would he have?

2011-12-07T19:14:00.001+08:00

Dr. Platitude (not his real name, obviously) is a pastor-preacher (somewhat) respected by his peers and adored by his sheep. In keeping up with the times, he made himself a Facebook page, a Twitter account and a blog replete with ~~trite~~ simple reflections on faith. Bravo.

He checked out the FB page of another minister, a semi-well-known evangelist type. Dr. Platitude was appalled to see that Semiwellknown Evangelist's list of contacts had a whole lot of shady folk - strippers, drunkards and the like. With a snickery scowl and a shake of the head, he condescended, "You can tell what kind of man he really is by the kind of friends he has".

I thought about contacting Dr. Platitude to ask him what he meant by that, and - if he meant what I thought he meant - to tell him off for his arrogance toward Semiwellknown Evangelist, his ignorance of how easy it is to add anyone on FB, and his gross overuse of cliches. But I decided to dismiss it, knowing that it's an utter waste of energy to confront a doctor of platitudes.

After writing yesterday's post and ruminating on the person of Christ, I thought, "If Jesus had a Facebook account, what sort of contacts would he have?"

His three closest pals were uneducated fishermen - ruffians with raggedy clothes, homemade haircuts and provinciano accents. All three had a reputation for being volatile, and one is known to have had crises of faith more than once.
In his friends list would be an internal revenue collector who was well-hated for being an accessory to an oppressive government.
There would also be at least one other collector - the short-legged one who swindled people.
There would also be the misbehaving lady socialite.
At least one prostitute.
A few promiscuous women, including the mongrel he met at the water station.
A whole lot of squatters who can't afford medical treatment, all unwashed and lesioned and dirty.
A few rich and influential people.
Some religious leaders who may or may not really like him, but agree that it would be advantageous to their social life to have someone popular to the masses like Jesus in their circle.
Personages from varied social strata and all walks of life, including and especially the not-so-acceptable.

On the left sidebar of his FB page where he would display his family, we'd find his mother who was once gossiped about to be a skank, and his non-wealthy father. Possibly also his nutty cousin, and a few brothers and sisters - the ones who wouldn't be too ashamed to admit they're related, though they're really related by blood.

His Family Tree would include a murderous great-great-great-(etc) grandfather who loved women too much, a few other adulterers, two prostitutes, and a lot of relatives he probably shouldn't be so proud of.

Jesus never declines a friend request. (John 6: 37)
If he had friends who were prostitutes and swindlers, I'm sure he would accept exotic dancers and pickpockets, if they came to him.
He would accept even the informal settlers who steal our electricity, the tricycle drivers and DVD pirates.
The Pride Marchers and Miss Gay Pageant participants.
Street urchins, yosi vendors and solvent boys.
Abortionists, divorcees and single moms.
The politicians and rich, tax-evading landowners we love to hate.
Well-known evangelists with mega-ministries and small-time house-church pastors.
Even Doctors of Platitudes.
And jaded irreverends like myself.
.

clanging cymbals at the pride march

2011-12-06T14:08:00.001+08:00

On the news was the Pride March by the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGTB) community held last weekend. The parade seemed tame compared to other gay pride marches held in the U.S. or Europe, so it wasn't actually that disconcerting.

What I found more disturbing was the condemnation and unlove showed by Evangelical protesters. They had their "God can change you" placards coupled with their "You will go to hell" message hollered out in holier-than-thou fashion.

Sigh. Another attempt to win people over by insulting them first. Way to witness. I wonder why some churches still think that works.

Images from here.

What do you hope to accomplish when you impose standards on the community without building relationships first? All that convenient conviction without going out of the way to care = clanging cymbal. Though everyone can hear a clanging cymbal, no one wants to listen to it.

It should be shaming that one of the marchers showed more grace than the protesters. A smartly-dressed (not in drag queen attire) young man came up to them, gave flowers, and with a smile, tried to initiate a rational conversation. Someone had to use his head, right? Alas, it was not the Christians who did. What did the supposed-envoys-of-Christ do? While the gay man kept his cool, the protesters shut their ears, refused to make eye contact and yelled out condemning non-sequiturs. Gay man politely says, "I have nothing against you, but what is my sin?," Christian man answers, "That is an abomination!!!!! Hellfiiiiire!!!!!!!" -- Who do you think came away looking more respectable and admirable?

The Jesus of the Bible was not averse to the pariahs of society. In fact he spent time with the most detested ones - swindlers, hookers adulterers, untouchables - he had dialogues with them, drank with them, offered forgiveness and hope. He did not want anyone to remain in their wrongdoing, but he made an effort to see people as human beings loved by and in need of God, not as infidels who can't meet God's standards. When it came to dealing with the weak-willed and immorality-prone, Christ never came in with guns blazing. Even if he spoke to them about their sin, he loved them first. That should be our model.

You know what's paradoxic? The ones Jesus did openly condemn were the self-righteously religious folk who claimed to know the way to Heaven but made it hard for "sinners" to get in. Tsk.

Final note: We shouldn't forget that heterosexuals are just as sinful as homosexuals. It just so happens that the GLBTs make an easy target. Whether we are male or female, homo or hetero, religious or nonreligious, blatantly obvious or good at hiding things - whatever sin we commit is equally detestable to God, and we are all in need of His mercy. Having a relationship with Christ and knowing the Bible isn't a license to look down on anyone; it should rather be a humbling experience that moves us to show others the same mercy the Lord extends to us.

joshua tongol on powerless churches and stupid theology

2011-11-23T11:51:00.001+08:00

"Churches nowadays have been so deprived of the true gospel ... they embrace everything that happens as 'God's will' ... But if you believe that everything that happens is God's will ( [such as] sickness and disease) and you embrace that as God's plan, that's blasphemy, folks - because you are denying the very nature of God. God is a good God.

"You know what we Christians do? We come up with stupid theology and say 'God has a plan,' 'There is a reason for that,' 'God is teaching him/ her something'... It's so stupid ... that you deny the very nature of God, that God is a good God who heals.

"When it comes to churches today (and I'm not trying to be a jerk, 'K?) ... what do you usually experience? Many times it's very empty programs ... you just can't wait until it's over. I'm not saying every church is like that, but I'm saying this is how a lot of churches are functioning now - you just go through the stinkin' program. You have superficial relationships, where they're your friends because you're in ministry with them...

"But when you go to a typical church service, you tell me [if] you see amazing power there ... Did you know that when you look in the scriptures, when they preached the gospel they demonstrated it?!

"... But what do we have today? Praise and worship team. Then we have a sermon.... Then we go home ... we call that a 'church', folks. [But] that's called a religious show. Now, does God still work through those things? Of course. But we're not preaching and demonstrating the fullness of the gospel."

- Joshua Tongol
joshuatongol.com

disagreement [quote]

2011-11-20T07:43:00.001+08:00

"It is in the lively arena of disagreement that we exercise our spiritual muscles."

[Ish Ekhad]

"churched kids"

2011-11-11T15:51:00.001+08:00

For the past week, local news has been ardently following the investigation of a murder of a young man from a prominent family. What further stokes the public's interest is that the suspected masterminds happen to be the victim's own brother and sister. Scandalous, right? Investigators and media have so far done an exceptional job of painting the sibling-slayers unquestionably guilty.

It's hard not to pity the mother of the victim who is also the mother of the suspects. It's a misfortune I would never want to experience nor wish on even my worst enemies. The plot thickens as she too is being colored complicit... But I'm not going to play armchair criminologist (as many have done already); neither will I bother to make a commentary on the family involved.

I would instead like to isolate a single phrase the mother said on television, and make a commentary on that.

As expected, she vehemently defended her suspect-son (now presently in jail) and daughter (now currently hiding abroad), saying it's impossible for them to do such a crime. One reason she upheld was that they're good kids, they're "churched kids".

Yes, she actually said churched kids. It's funny when you hear it on television, but especially so since both her son and daughter are already adults. Matter of age aside, it's still a peculiar, non-sequitur sort of defense.

As if being churched is a certificate of moral uprightness.

I'm not saying I believe that the brother and sister are guilty (that's not for me to decide). It's just that it isn't so smart for any mother to instantly assume her offspring are holy based on the mere fact that they are churched. Churches don't save, they don't sanctify (that's God's job, BTW).

Churches teach what the Lord commands. Actually following is all up to the individual. You can be steeped in 'Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not lie, Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods' all your life, but the choice whether or not to act in your selfishness is ultimately yours to make.

Bringing your children to your place of worship (at whatever age they are) is not exactly a surefire guarantee that they will end up to be perfectly righteous individuals. Personal development is complex; no one grows just by listening to a sermon. Being churched at childhood certainly helps to build a foundation for faith and character, but it isn't an impenetrable force-field against the influences of social contacts, school bullies, the barrage of various media, workplace woes, intrafamilial politics, emotional hangups and day-to-day existence. In all the coming and going, an intense love and reverence for the Lord must be modeled, inculcated, and then applied in every area of life -- without that, it's all just empty ceremony. Nobody's life is changed by empty ceremony.

... But even if they loved and feared the Lord so singleheartedly, you still can't expect your kids to be perfect, not even close. But I'm cutting this here so I have something left for the next post. :)

today's favorite retweet

2011-11-07T16:32:00.000+08:00

Screenshot from here.

Never was a fan of his, but Amen to this!
.

peace isn't peddled in pills

2011-10-28T14:42:00.000+08:00

A life in Christ has peace. Like a river, says the children's song. I suppose the likening to a river means that peace keeps flowing but never runs out, and it rings life with it wherever it goes.

But why is it when nicey-good Christians speak of the peace that comes from God, they seem to refer to it like it were a sedative? There's this expectation that everything's going to be perfectly hunky-dory and you won't be perturbed by anything. Ever.

The general, non-thinking consensus is that a life of peace is a life of ease: nice, care-free and hakuna matata, you can smile through life and slide your way into Heaven (That's why nicey-good churchgoers insist they don't have problems [i.e., live in denial] just so as not to appear unworthy of the fellowship of "the brethren").

I'm not sure how believers arrive at this hakuna matata theology; perhaps it's appealing because it's so ideal to be relieved of responsibility. Last time I checked, it was never the goal of the abundant life in Christ to feel no pain pain and have no problem.

We Christians could be such pushers of the "peace-pill" sometimes. When a friend would ask for prayer for a seemingly insurmountable problem, for example, one of the easiest and unthinkingest things we pray (on top of the usual go-to requests such as wisdom, strength and grace) is "God, give him peace". We're often so fixated on how circumstances make us feel and expect God to take away the discomfort, short of saying, "Dear Lord, please take away the pain that will shape our character, give us nice feelings always because it's easier that way". We might as well offer lobotomies at our church services.

Also - notice how nice Christians can easily justify bad decisions by saying "I have peace" (meaning to say "I don't feel bad about it, so it must be okay")? I've heard people claim they have "peace" over behavior that is unkind, disrespectful, divisive or sinful. Oh please. It's just a religious version of "if it feels good, do it".

If the absence of an "inner disturbance" characterizes peace, how different is that from having a hardened conscience?

It would be wrong for us to think that peace is merely a sense of having no pains or problems, or the absence of anxiety. If that's all it was, then emotionally-disconnected sociopathic murderers, spoiled slobs and opiate junkies have got it right.

Jesus (a.k.a. the Prince of Peace) wasn't a hippie going peace peace love love, peddling some sort of numbing drug - pop one to avoid all negative emotions and and wait for God to solve everything. From the get-go, Christ acknowledged that real life was not a bed of roses, and following him would have its own hardships.

The peace related to God is an assurance that results from trusting in him. It is not an emotion, it's something you can know even if you don't feel so hunky-dory.
It doesn't include becoming numb to all your troubles. Corollary to that, having a lot of concerns in life doesn't necessarily mean you don't have peace. You can be anxious and still be on the right path - anxious over all your concerns in prayer, for example, or anxiously awaiting Christ's return.

The fact that it's associated with readiness (Ephesians 5: 15) leads me to think that peace (the kind that comes from God) is something that spurs you into action. It would prompt you to make things right between yourself and the Lord, and then rouse you to help others do the same. The term peacemaker (Matthew 5: 9) makes it clear that peace is something to be made, i.e., with and between other people. It's something you choose to do, not something you passively wait for.

The peace that comes from God is not a spiritual sedative that allows you to slide through life without a worry. On the contrary, it moves you. Instead of making you more care-free, it makes you more care-ing. It should bother you about things that bother God (i.e., injustice, oppression, the needs of widows and orphans... though I don't think he makes that a big deal over Bible versions or sanctuary seating). It inspires you to be a peacemaker - a person God sends in answer to others' prayers.

So. Peace like a river, right? Amen to that. Rivers flow and bubble and bustle with life; they nourish and revive just by going their course. Rivers that are sedated are those that are polluted and dead.
.

"above reproach"

2011-10-11T14:29:00.000+08:00

1 Timothy 3

Qualifications for Overseers and Deacons

¹ Here is a trustworthy saying: Whoever aspires to be an overseer desires a noble task. ² Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, ³ not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. ⁴ He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of full respect. ⁵ (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?) ⁶ He must not be a recent convert, or he may become conceited and fall under the same judgment as the devil. ⁷ He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil’s trap.

I've been in a couple of planning meetings for the church lately, and one of the matters of concern is the qualifications for workers and ministers. Our home church is a young church, and we haven't quite pegged that down yet.

The best way to start (of course) is to consult the Bible. I happen to know there's some text on this subject in the books of Timothy and Titus. I decided to take a look at Timothy, primarily because there's a certain term there that has haunted ministers for generations:

above. reproach.

It means blameless, irreproachable, faultless. Nothing to criticize about. I think it's supposed to be a motto of sorts, you know, for an overseer (orig. Greek episkopos can also be translated as bishop, pastor or elder) to be ~~better than everyone~~ exemplary. I even saw a Christianese shirt with those words printed in big, bold uppercase letters.

You know, it can become ammunition for condemnation. Those two simple words can be the "Biblical" attack against a less-than-perfect pastor. It can even be a source of self-deprecation for those ministers who are too aware of their own faults.

I've once heard a different interpretation of the term that suggests that a "pastor" is infallible and therefore untouchable, i.e. above the reproach of others. A paradigm quite prone to pride, i.m.o.

To be above reproach is the first item in the list of qualifications in 1Timothy 3, as written by the Apostle Paul. If we were to be nit-pickers about it, nobody would qualify. Nobody. Even the best of us can't possibly be literally faultless. Anyone and everyone who still breathes is sure to have an area of weakness.

So must we disregard Paul's instructions? No, not at all. In fact, churches ought to obey his advice thoughtfully. But not legalistically or critically, and certainly not joylessly. I'm pretty sure the scripture isn't for condemnation, self-deprecation, self-elevation or lording over. That list of qualifications is for instilling order in our church communities; it presupposes that there already exists among us grace-filled relationships with the Lord and with each other. If our qualifications brew contempt (whether for self or others), political scheming, joyless ethical standards or graceless nit-picking - if it seeks to disqualify people rather than to release them to serve God - it's likely we aren't applying Paul's instructions correctly.

keep it smart and simple

2011-09-30T01:44:00.001+08:00

I don't think I ever appreciated belabored, excessively wordy prayers, but I've officially renounced them a couple of years ago. Don't get me wrong - I delight in communing with God, and I have no problem praying with or for others, even for lengthy chunks of time if necessary. I simply have a strong dislike for prolix recitations that double as a sermon, particularly those incessantly punctuated with out-of-place Halleluuujaaahs or PraaaiseGaaahds.

* The Corporate Prayer Show

Public prayer can be like a show on the part of the minister /prayer leader sometimes, in the sense that it seems intended to impress rather than express. (Can I hear an 'amen' on that?!)

If you've been asked to pray publicly, you may know what I mean: You want to say things just right. You're conscious about not sounding like a baby Christian before the fellowship of the spiritually mature (and especially not if Doctor Apostle Prophet Whatzisname were present). You use churchy words you learned in Sunday School, like sanctify, glorify, and anoint, even if you're not exactly sure what they mean. You quote scripture and use phrases like "I bind in the name of Jesus" and "hedge of protection". You get all excited when you hear someone else say "Yes Lord" in agreement to what you just said. And then you want people to clap after you end with "InJesusName Amen".

[Note: Do you ever wonder how confusing - maybe even idiotic - you sound to a non-Christian who may be present?]

And maybe - just maybe - something in your spirit would tug at you ever so slightly, to question whether all of that fuss was really meant for God or if it was put on for those people who could hear you.

[Note: Do you ever wonder if God might be laughing at how humorous we sound to heaven?]

Okay, it's appropriate to consider the people you're with and pray in the manner they deem acceptable. e.g., If you're in a large formal gathering like a wedding where there are lots of old people, it's proper to be mindful of your words and diction - go ahead and use all the anointed language you know, and maybe even quoteth thou thy scripture in King James English. But i.m.h.o., all thy fanciness is vanity elsewhere, such as before a meal with a bunch of friends. Whatever the setting, it's inconvenient, highly inconsiderate and unproductive to drag it on. It must occur to you that your role as prayer leader is to lead people in prayer, not leave them behind in confusion, and certainly not bore them to death.

* No Farce Required

We like to tell people, "Just tell God what's in your heart", but then we have this generally accepted style of prayer: lengthy and wordy. I don't know why, but every new convert will eventually pray that way, like it's required.

But Prayers don't have to be elaborate and drawn-out. You don't need to have a Doctor-of-Divinity vocabulary. It isn't "more Christian" to say in several paragraphs what you can say in a few words. It isn't necessary to recite thesis-like background stories just to prove to others that you know what you're talking about, in the hopes of eliciting an Amen! from them.

And you don't have to shout; God can hear you just fine.

We've heard it before - "What matters to God is your heart". That's no excuse to pray lazily, but that should rather affect you to give more importance to substance and meaning (and your state of being in reference to your Creator) over the fluff of four-syllable Christianese words.

It's a load-lifting realization that God won't nit-pick what you tell him in earnest. He won't gun down your grammar or your elementary-level logic, he won't unfriend you for not flattering him first, and I don't think he'd mind if you said his name with a heavy native accent.

He won't ignore you for not praying in the A.C.T.S. format your Sunday School teacher said you should use.

Surely the One Who Holds The Universe would know what you're really trying to say under all that ignorance and lunacy. If you're having a hard time finding the proper words, his grace will meet you where you are. If all you have are tears and sobs welling from a wounded heart, God will accept that too - even without the grandiose litanies.

* Seek to express Rather Than impress

I'm sure a lot of Christians will (secretly) admit that they prefer short, sincere messages over drawn-out prayer-speeches. But it seems congregations are generally suckers for long, flowery prayers delivered with exaggerated televangelist inflections, peppered with numerous, idle interjections of "Faaaahther God" and "Haaaalleluuuujah Jeeeesus". e.g., If Brother A says something heartfelt, prophetic and concise in ordinary-person speech, people will still likely agree more and applaud more to Brother B's verbose-but-vapid discourse. So in a sellout sort of way, it's acceptable to say verbose-but-vapid prayers at corporate gatherings, though not necessarily productive. Many don't seem to care if a prayer is sincere or truly meaningful anyway; they just want something that sounds good. Shout your prayer or sing praise alongside, and people will say you're anointed (even if they don't really comprehend what that word means).

But seriously, choose to pray meaningfully rather than wordily; sincerely rather than just emotionally. Seek to express yourself to God more than impress people who may hear you.

-----------------------------------------

* Confessions of Experimentation

Some time ago, I sat in a laid-back prayer session where everyone was encouraged to take turns leading. When my turn came, I took a few moments to ask God what He was doing in the situation, felt for his hand in it, grasped it, and prayed out what I believed was his specific will for that given time. I purposely stayed away from churchy wording and used everyday terms. I did not employ weeping or shouting or any psychological device, but I was emphatic. No one agreed with whatever I said, even if it was all good, earnest and Biblical.

[ People did, however, enthusiastically voice out their acquiescence with another pastor who prayed with much volume and vigor (as in the fashion to be expected of most ministers), though he merely recited generic prayers and repeated what was already said by someone else. Whenever his wordsmithing skills failed him, he shouted in tongues, or said Hallelujah or PraiseYouJesus, even if it was not appropriate, and likewise the others said Yes Lord when it hardly made sense. ]

At another time and in another crowd - this time it was a small prayer gathering with pastors and church leaders - I delivered words with a hammed-up passion, complete with hand gestures, scripture references, shouting for emphasis and occasional breaks in my voice. Them pastors nodded and amen-ed fiercely, oblivious to the inanities and irreverences that I inserted into my dramatic monologue. No one, not a single one made the slightest reaction, not even later raised a question on what I said about "We men are all just boogers in the palm of Your hand, Lord! (Hallelujah!)", or "We are but a skin disease on the face of the earth! (Hallelujah!)". Them pastors actually said amen to that, heads bowed, brows furrowed, eyes tightly shut. I'm not so sure they were listening to what I was saying, but they clearly appreciated how I was saying it.
.

taming of the "tongues"

2011-09-23T15:40:00.000+08:00

A younger friend of mine sent me a message to say hello and share about some personal spiritual breakthroughs he has experienced since the last time we saw each other. Transitioning into adulthood necessitated for him to evaluate his own faith - the religion his parents passed down to him, what he picked up from Sunday School and Youth Church, things he learned through years of Bible College. He shared with me some of the teachings he began to question as he weighed them against the Bible, and asked me what I thought.

He brought up the matter of speaking / praying in tongues and other Pentecostal beliefs. He (like myself) comes from a heavily Pentecostal background, but is now (again, like myself) testing the laws, commentaries and values that Christian pundits have padded around the Word of God. Below is an edited portion of the reply I sent to him.

-----------------------------------

In my (non-professional but possibly just as valid) opinion, any spiritual practice or behavior that is counterproductive to Matthew 22: 37-39 (The Greatest Commandments) and Matthew 28: 19-20 (The Great Commission) has to be questioned.

In this light, I don't think it's appropriate to exhibit "tongues" before non-believers, since it confuses them and draws the attention toward the peculiar practice and away from God [Chances are, it will freak them out and / or cause them to think of you as demon-possessed, because they neither understand nor appreciate it].

"Tongues" wasn't really meant to be displayed to non-believers. It's primarily for edifying the church, i.e., believers. A prophecy in tongues [plus an interpretation] is for encouraging other followers of Christ. It was never meant for showing off. Your personal prayer language [praying in tongues] is between yourself and God, and it enriches your own spirit - there's really no problem in keeping that to yourself.

But - keeping your tongues to yourself can be considered by other Pentecostals as "being ashamed of the gospel". You just have to discern which is more valuable: being sensitive to seeking non-believers, or conforming to the expectations of churchgoers. Still your choice.

I cringe whenever I hear someone carelessly shouting in tongues on the mic [at church meetings] without an interpretation /explanation. I mean, it's kinda inconsiderate to new people, because it freaks them out. But many longtime churchgoers seem to be blessed by that sort of thing, so in a way, it's not so bad (for them, at least). :p

[I.m.h.o., the habit of shouting in tongues while praying is just a matter of disciplining one's own emotions and vocal volume. There's no need to get carried away]

The doctrine that "speaking in tongues is the initial evidence of being filled with the Holy Spirit" [which suggests that a person who does not speak in tongues is not filled with the Holy Spirit] - it's a latter Pentecostal belief. I don't even think it's entirely Biblical [i.e., it is not actually stated, but can simply be derived from what can be read in the book of Acts]. To be honest, there was always a question in my head about that, but since it was what was upheld by our former home church, that was what I submitted to, and that is what I taught others in our congregation.

My opinion: Speaking in tongues is one of many evidences. (Some miracle-working evangelists do not practice it, and you can't say they don't have the Holy Spirit). If we believe that we can't put God in a box, then we must also believe that the Holy Spirit can manifest himself in any way he sees appropriate. Seems logical enough, right? Of course I could be wrong about that too. ;)
Speaking / praying in tongues is good and definitely advantageous for believers, but we mustn't fixate on that spiritual manifestation alone. There are other evidences of the Holy Spirit which are more beneficial to both believers and non-believers, such as love, joy, the eagerness to bring people to Jesus, and the desire to live a holy life. In the big picture, I don't think "tongues" is really a matter of great concern.

I don't really like the term "Pentecostal" anymore because it's already quite misleading. If I could, I'd create new terms to describe what the Lord is currently doing in people's lives. New wineskins for new wine. Labels are trite and limited. Sadly, the world depends on labels. We might not entirely coincide with what our labels mean, but we have to use them just so we can more or less communicate with other people who are more rigid in their thinking (This may seem arrogant, but let's face it: There are too many are narrow-minded people, and you have to accommodate them more often that you would like to).

Submitting to a denomination includes also submitting to (but not necessarily blindly agreeing with) what it believes. Advocating something different in your congregation will cause confusion and dissension, and may even warrant corrective action. I.m.h.o., when it comes to differences that aren't contradictory to the Bible, it's more gracious and beneficial to keep your head down for the sake of unity, rather than stand up and cause unnecessary division.

Indeed, God cannot and should not be treated like a mathematical equation. But there are some things that can be understood, even extrapolated, based on Biblical precepts and patterns. Though God is mysterious, he is not entirely nebulous. You mustn't dismiss every Christian know-it-all as a flake. Your understanding must be broad enough to acknowledge that you may still learn something from others, even if they sound too dependent on human logic. ;)
.

look at jesus, not religion

2011-09-07T18:27:00.003+08:00

The following is from one of the blogs I follow, Roller Coaster by a lady named Marja.
[Text styling mine]

We had some friends over a couple of nights ago ... one of them fell into a discussion with me, expressing his problems with religion and Christianity. He felt very strongly about the apparent narrow-mindedness of Christians.

But, I told him, we shouldn't believe in religion. Religion is man-made. It's what people have put together. The rules are man-made and yes, many are narrow-minded and have lost their reason for being. What we need to look at is Jesus, not religion.

Jesus was a radical. He Himself was against the religion of the day and fought against its narrow-mindedness. The Pharisees and Sadducees could only see their own way. It was like they owned the law, rather than God Himself. They felt threatened by Jesus who tried to show them a better way.

Jesus taught how the most important law is to love God and love our neighbors, even if our neighbors turn out to be our enemies. All the laws of God were wrapped up in this one thing.

If people who feel turned off by Christianity could only look past the religion, and zero in on what's at the center - Jesus Himself. It's Jesus we're called to follow, not religion. And this probably means that we ourselves have to become somewhat radical as well.

-Marja

.
Just a corollary thought: In 6 BC were the Pharisees. In the Middle Ages was the "Holy" Roman Empire + The "Holy" Catholic Church. These days I have a feeling it's the fundamentalist Evangelical Christians who are taking on the role, thinking that they "know better" than the Pharisees and the Catholics.

Follow the person of Jesus Christ, not religious laws. Have your religion if you must, but if it keeps you from loving God and / or loving other people, you've missed the point.

2011-08-25T13:00:00.004+08:00

Image from here.

"I don't object to the concept of a deity, but I'm baffled by the notion of one that takes attendance."

Amy Farrah Fowler
BIG BANG THEORY Season 3, The Lunar Excitation

Me too, Amy. Me too. ^_^
.

religion is like a p***s

2011-08-23T15:27:00.001+08:00

10 questions jesus wasn't asked when he returned to heaven

2011-08-20T22:52:00.002+08:00

Taken from nakedpastor.com

How well did you obey men?
How perfectly did you respect authority?
How carefully did you please others?
How obsessively did you follow scripture?
How diligently did you separate yourself from sinners?
How frequently did you tithe?
How successfully did you not rock the boat?
How compulsively did you try to do everything just right?
How afraid of me were you?
How many were following you by the end of your ministry?

ecclessiastical d***ery

2011-08-09T17:00:00.003+08:00

Due to recent actions of its bishops' council, the Catholic church has been, by association, once again tagged with a number of odious labels including old-fashioned, narrow-minded and controlling. This reputation has been attached to "the church" in general, and likely to other Christians by extension. So yes, this concerns me.

The latest bishop-related brouhaha involves the condemnation of an artist who defiled Catholic icons with sexual imagery. The aforementioned icons were put on exhibit and called art. The artist was thus labelled by the bishops as a spawn of the devil.

To some of the avid religious, what is collectively known as "the church" emerges as noble defenders of the faith. Applause, applause. To the others who aren't exactly fans of all things churchy (including the freethinking intellectuals and the progressive artist community), "the church" is a closed-minded, power-grabbing institution of old men throwing another fit over losing their influence.

Being both an artist and a Christian, it might be imagined I would be ambivalent in hot issues such as this one. But I am far from tepid.

I don't like the artist's piece involving an image of "Jesus"and a sexual-sacred object, but I can't really say I'm scandalized by it. For one thing, Jesus isn't caucasian, and that image being desecrated isn't him at all. For another, I don't advocate the adoration of icons anyway. But before you think I'm out of my mind for siding with the so-called blasphemer, let me just make it clear that I don't agree with irresponsible, tasteless "freedom of expression". It's just a matter of civility to watch you convey about someone else's religion, sexual orientation or race; it isn't exactly a basic human right to be a jerk. I'd love to elaborate on that, but I'd rather not deviate from the original intent of this entry.

What I intended to say is that what I hate possibly even more than the crude artistic expression that passes itself as modern art in the above mentioned incident, is the ecclesiastical dickery that masquerades as spiritual leadership.

The Lord doesn't need to be defended. Who were those bishops really defending? Their positions? their egos? Were they truly upholding a standard of reverence or merely imposing their power?

Thumbs down to the religious men who aren't very forgiving in this "art" scandal. Especially since just a few weeks ago, a number of prominent Catholic bishops asked for the public's forgiveness. The misdemeanor in question? Their lapse in judgement for receiving (luxury) vehicles from a politician in exchange for favors. They are only human, they confessed, and expected everyone to just drop the issue.

Before all that and all the while, there's been staunch resistance by priests and bishops against the Reproductive Health Bill. In true backwards thinking, those celibate, well-fed religious men in robes speak for the working mothers and sexually active women from the lower B, C and D classes, opposing health care and family planning options in favor of abstinence. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's wrong with that picture. With a misinformed fear that it could turn into something bad, the priests strongly oppose something that has potential to do a whole lot of good.

Forgive me for singling out the Catholic bishops here, but this isn't aimed against Catholics. It just so happens that they're the easy example on many people's minds at the moment. Non-Catholic Christians are capable of the same intolerance, the same controlling rigidity, the same detachment from the people they are supposed to watch over.

It's been on my mind and I think its awful when so-called servants and shepherds of the flock abdicate because of their inability to see with eyes for the times. Instead of meeting peoples' needs, they secure their own positions of influence; instead of leading people to know the Lord, they lead them into rigid thinking. I'm not saying that followers of Christ should cave in to the ongoing amorality; I'm saying we should be relevant while staying consistent with the teachings of Christ. Biblical principles are timeless; it's how they are applied that become outdated.
.

a reflection from the holy land

2011-07-23T15:38:00.004+08:00

While the Hubby and I visited family at the City of Sin, my Dad and my sister toured the Holy Land. I would've wanted to go with them but there were other pressing concerns; but no worries, I believe I can visit Israel some other time.

Photo was taken by my sister Nikki.

Pop and sis brought home a lot of pretty pictures and souvenirs, as well as a lot of insights. Of all the things they shared, one of my favorites is what they learned about the word sacrifice.

Among the many locals they met with was the daughter of a priest (her last name is Cohen; as I gather, all Jews with the surname Cohen and Levi are from the line of priests) who gave them a tour/seminar of a Jewish temple. When she came to the part about the altar, she mentioned about how the Hebrew word for sacrifice is usually mistranslated into the English language. The word used in the English Bible versions (and which English-speaking Christians have become familiar with) implies some kind of slaughter or hardship. The original Hebrew term however simply means "to bring closer to God".

Wow. What a breath of fresh air.

Now the phrase sacrifice of praise makes so much more sense. None of the explanations I've ever heard before were even close to satisfactory.

It's relieving and exhilarating to know that whenever I read from the Bible or hear a preaching about sacrifice, God simply wants me to come closer to Himself. He doesn't wait with a butcher knife. When He asks me to sacrifice something - like a dream, a relationship or anything of value - he doesn't necessarily (though there are times I believe he may) expect me to slaughter or destroy anything; He just wants me to bring it to him. It doesn't necessarily (though again, it may) have to be a deathly painful experience. There's nothing sadistic about it, but something entirely sanctifying.

good neighbors

2011-07-17T14:19:00.007+08:00

I've heard several different versions of the following anecdote. It seems people like telling and retelling it to prove some point. I myself will do some retelling here, but I will attempt to make a few other points aside from the usual.

Here goes: A beggar woman walks into a church, child in tow. They come up to a minister. Mother and child in their apparent need ask money for food and stuff for her and her child. The minister refuses, saying the money collected that day was for the new wing of their church building, turning away the needy person in favor of an organization,

Other variations tell of a child instead of a woman, or a priest instead of a random minister. Substitute "convent" or "religious organization" for "new wing of the church building". A Pinoy alternative rock song from the early '90s mocks a street preacher with a collection basket, who snubbed a hungry street urchin. The classic version features a man, a priest and a Levite - as told by Jesus in Luke 10 , in the first part of The Parable of The Good Samaritan.

The above retelling came from a young man who claimed he actually witnessed it, right at the lobby of the very church he attended (It prompted him to look for another church, he said. I don't blame him).

When people tell it nowadays, whichever the version, the tale is often punctuated with an unsaid "What's wrong with this picture?" It's sometimes in an attitude of scorn for all things religious, underscoring the cruel lack of compassion and gross deviation from the teachings of Christ by those who claim to represent Him. It's easy ammunition for Non-Christians against Christians.

Indeed, something is wrong with that picture. Jesus taught us to love people, not our programs or our lovely places of worship. We think of Christian virtues such as charity, mercy, compassion, love. The genuinely needy, particularly children and widows, are close to the heart of God - and we believe that as his followers we must be moved by what move his heart.

But, there's another side to the story that we have to consider before we flame anyone or anything.

In fairness to the said minister (or priest, or street preacher), we have to remember that the money he held is not his to give away. If he collected money for a certain purpose he is accountable before God and man to make sure that that money is used for that specific purpose. If he asked people to make contributions for the new wing of the church building, that money, a hundred percent of it, must go to the construction of the new wing. If he asked for funding for his religious organization, whatever cash he collected must go to that organization. That whole amount belongs to the collection. It is not for him to suddenly give it away to someone who suddenly comes up to him begging for alms - that would have been equally immoral as he would have been stealing (Furthermore, it is illegal in some parts of the city to give alms; people shouldn't be faulted for trying to obey the law).

In The Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus was not merely picking on priests and Levites. We shouldn't just stop at that first part of the story and point fingers at religious men (or women) - that's really not the point. In telling that story, Jesus was inciting everyone to examine their hearts and be "good neighbors".

There could be a whole lengthy litany on what a good neighbor is, but basically the Lord is teaching us to show deliberate kindness and consideration to others, particularly to those in need, and even more specifically those who cannot reciprocate.

Going back to the modern-day anecdote, I still couldn't help thinking that there was something that the minister / priest / street preacher could have (and should have) done to be a better representative of Christ. Okay, okay - I shouldn't be pointing fingers. Let me just instead share other stories that ended differently, i.e., with some actual (albeit brief) "good neighboring". These I swear are true stories.

A man in tattered clothes came up to the security guard of a church, asking for a small amount for jeepney fare. The security guard alerted one of the young ministers who happened to be around. The young minister had some financial problems himself, but saw that this man was in greater need than he was, so he gave him money. He listened to the man's woes and offered a prayer on top of the hand-out. Noticing that the man's feet were wounded and blistered from walking around in worn-out shoes, the minister gave the man his own sandals even it meant he himself had to go home barefoot that day.

A beggar with an inflamed limb was spotted by a preacher on the street. The guy asked the preacher for cash, saying he needed a dose of a certain antibiotic. The preacher, aware that many beggars blew money on drugs, was careful not to simply hand money to this guy. He instead asked the beggar to come with him to the church clinic where they had the specific antibiotics he required. The beggar received the dose he needed - for free. The preacher then invited the beggar to return daily for the succeeding dosages.

A poor widow came to a couple of young ladies in church - it was a total contrast: the widow in her old age and greying rags, the ladies in their glowing youth and well-pressed, boutique-bought clothes. The ladies were not aware of policies their church had on giving alms, and they didn't have much money on them anyway, so they referred her to the head pastor, who gave an amount out of his own pocket. The widow needed someone to talk to about her problems, so the ladies sat with her and listened to her for a whole afternoon. The girls had a lot of "ministry work" to do that day, but they put aside their to-do lists just to see to this widow.

There are a lot of true stories of Good Samaritans, some more extreme or heartwarming than others. I guess I just want to say that though we may see a lot of jerk-ish neighbors, that doesn't mean there is a shortage of good ones. The thing is, Good Samaritans often don't like flaunting their deeds, so they would likely be hard to spot. If you really, really want hard evidence of one, then you could be one (wink, wink). Of course it's hard to do - you wouldn't exactly be a good neighbor if it were entirely easy.

modern christianity

2011-07-16T12:10:00.002+08:00

A cartoon entitled New Jesus from nakedpastor.

we are the chili sauce of the earth

2011-05-30T13:11:00.003+08:00

Went on a trip to Vegas to visit some family there.

Despite its reputation, Vegas is actually quite laid-back; locals are warm and friendly.

I also couldn't help noticing there were a lot of churches, a lot of gutsy street-preachers (posed on the sidewalk between an Elvis and beglittered transexual showgirls) and a lot of this:

Photo mine.

Hilarious. But a definite dis-Like. What a way to witness.

Sometimes - just sometimes - I think we try too hard that we leave an unbearable taste in people's mouths that makes them want to vomit us out together with our message. We judge them and then we tell them God loves them. Pssssh.

obsessively scrubbing christianity

2011-05-05T14:08:00.006+08:00

This isn't a perfect analogy, but ride along for a moment.

Imagine righteousness as a crisp, white shirt - the really nice and expensive kind you can't afford to buy.
Think of it as a gift. You were previously wearing filthy rags that barely served their purpose, but the day God adopted you into His family, he gave you a whole new wardrobe - pristine, starched and freshly-pressed. It's only fitting for His children, so he cleaned you up and dressed you up as one of His own.

You revel in your new identity and your new threads. You go about your life and pretty soon you notice your white shirt isn't quite as immaculate. It's not that you did anything to get dirty - it's just that merely being alive soils your garb with sweat and dead skin cells. Even if you kept yourself perfectly still, the shirt gets a little less pristine by the moment simply because it comes in contact with your skin. You're human, it happens.

You're still wearing that white shirt - it's still white, it's still presentable, and it's still a lovely shirt.
But you're so aware of the imperfections. See them? Take another look, that's an imperfect white shirt. See them? See them? No one else can see the tiny black specks, but you know they're there. You know your shirt is dirty because you've been wearing it, and even if it looks clean, it feels dirty.

You then launder your shirt. You go to church, do some repenting, worship a bit - or a lot, get involved, whatever. Whatever would make your shirt feel clean again.

And then you notice the black specks - they're still there. They're barely visible, but you know they're there. You patiently wait until next Sunday for another laundry day.

And then you feel clean again. But then those spots are still there. You realize they aren't just specks of dirt, but stains on the righteous new you. "This can't be so!," you think to yourself, and obsess about getting them out.

It's an imperfect shirt, but it's still a good one. And as far as God is concerned, you look great in that shirt he gave you.

But you just can't stand having those spots.

You decide you don't have to wait until next Sunday and you can do something about it on your own. You take your shirt, some detergent and work on it in your bathroom sink. Aaaah, the shirt feels clean again.

A few days after, you notice another spot - it's bigger and darker; you never saw it before because it was on your back, right smack on the shoulder area, seen by others but invisible to you. You can't believe none of your friends ever told you about it. You take your shirt back to the sink with your detergent and scrub.

It's a stubborn stain. You scrub some more.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

Unbelievable. The more you scrubbed, the more the spot spread - some stains are like that (like ink, tallow or paint). It's frustrating. You find yourself some bleach and douse the unwanted spot.

Scrub, scrub, scrub some more. Douse, scrub, douse. You ask God for help.

There. The spot isn't perfectly gone, but it's at least less noticeable now.

And oh, you've also almost ruined your shirt. You ask God for help again.

The following Sunday, you sit through a sermon admonishing you to keep your shirt clean. You know you must and say Amen. You meet with a friend and you discuss the stain on your shirt. your friend tells you about how he deals with his stains, and you mull about how you could do that next time but think you aren't quite as adept at stain-removal as he is.

You ask God for help and wonder why He doesn't seem to be interested.

You find yourself an accountability group. You meet regularly to discuss laundry techniques and helping each other to get rid of those stubborn spots. Those stubborn, stubborn spots. You learn that God will not miraculously blot them away, but you've got to do your work. You swap techniques with your accountability group, pray for strength, and debate about the proper usage of bleach.

Sadly no one ever seems to notice the fact that you are all wearing gorgeous, expensive white shirts; everyone was just so concerned about the spots.

Still you are glad for this group that greatly encourages you. You stick with each other and help one another with day-to-day laundry and whitening issues.

The way everyone obsesses over stains, it's as if the shirt itself is unimportant. Hardly anyone stops to give praise for merely wearing the shirt, or being blessed enough to have the shirt at all. What matters most to everyone is keeping the shirt clean - especially after hearing another sermon on white garments. The Giver of the white wardrobe is always talked about, but no one could quite make the connection between Him and keeping a shirt white.

You become a church worker, and you are aware that workers are supposed to have whiter shirts than average members. You vow to be meticulous in keeping your shirt clean, to higher standards than most. You are told you don't have to be perfect, but you know that people around you are put off when they discover your sweat-marks, so you can't afford to have the least un-whiteness.

And then you hear more sermons on how you must keep your shirt immaculate.

After a year or two, that impetuous speck is still there on the shoulder of your shirt. It's a lot smaller than it used to be, but it's still there. You get frustrated at the fact that you can't defeat the spot on your own shirt, so you console yourself by reminding yourself of other people's stains. Yours aren't half as bad as theirs, so you have a reason to think they're worse off. You wonder why they can't even take care of those spots on their shirts, and you become as unforgiving toward them as you are with yourself.

Your own shirt is actually fine, despite the tiny specks of dirt here and there. It's still a gorgeous shirt, and as far as God is concerned, you look great.

You become a leader. By this time, your pet spot is hardly noticeable, even to you. So you start looking for other spots. When you can't find any, you look for spots in other people's shirts. You want to help them get rid of those unsightly blemishes - which is a good and noble thing to do; after all, the purity of our shirts as a collective whole matters greatly to God, right?

You come to a point when you realize you've scrubbed out as much as you can. You actually have a presentable decent white shirt, despite the occasional flecks of gray. God actually thinks you're okay. Pretty harassed with all the scrubbing about, but decent.

But then you start wondering whether your hemline is uneven, or how your buttons aren't the right material, or how loose threads stick out even if they don't. You feel the urge to engineer your shirt in just the right way, so you could serve God better.

You share this "better shirt design" with others and convince them it's a good idea. You alter your sleeves, collar, buttons and so on because you think it looks better, attracts other people, and allows you to move more comfortably. It also keeps the dirt out, and hides the signs of sweat and dead skin cells. You spend money and effort in laundering and maintaining your shirt and keeping up with design trends.

Pretty soon you realize you've ended up with a shirt that looks nothing like what God gave you. It may or may not even have the original fabric anymore, you're not so sure. You take a look at the patchwork you've created, and for a fleeting moment it seemed more like the filthy rags you wore before you received the expensive white shirt.

You feel the need to improve the shirt. You ask God for help. And you wonder why He seems uninterested.

You get frustrated. But you know you have to maintain that white shirt. You go through your acquired habit of scrubbing and sewing and scrubbing and sewing. On top of your own clothes, you worry about others' too. Sometimes you go the extra mile of scrubbing and sewing other peoples' shirts. Anything for the Lord. Must. Keep. Everyone. White. It's stressful, but it keeps things right.

You keep asking God for help between callouses fingers and raw knuckles, and wonder why He doesn't seem to be interested. You have a "Woe is me!" moment in the style of the prophet Jeremiah.

And then one day, a God-inspired epiphany finds you. You're right, He's not interested. At least not in helping you whiten your white shirts.

And then He asks you why it never occurred to you to just ask him for a new outfit every morning.

You are dumbfounded.

Wearing a white shirt was just that simple. But instead of keeping your eye on the just wearing the shirt, you obsessed over unwanted spots and kinds of detergent and latest fashion trends.

And now he's showing you the proper, more beneficial, simpler way to wear a white shirt. But you just can't buy it. You've gotten so accustomed to the obsessive scrubbing and bleaching - you must be hearing Him wrong.

But if you think about it, if He really wanted you to stress over your laundry, why would he give you a crisp, clean, white shirt in the first place, instead of giving you instructions on how to bleach your original rags?

He gave you a free white shirt. You're supposed to keep it white and He knows it's impossible for you to do that. You don't have to kill your hands trying to whiten something you can't ever. Just take the white shirt He gives you and wear it.

shiny, happy people

2011-04-26T13:30:00.006+08:00

In the Christian life, there are several things that other Christians expect to see in you as proof that you really are in Christ. While most of them are founded on rational, Biblical principles, we who have been churched sometimes extend them to absurd levels by building on implications instead of the actual doctrine.

Take for example what we believe about joy.

Joy Joy Joy Joy
Down in my heart. (Where?) Down in my heart.

Truth: The gospel brings joy. God gives joy. Joy is one of the evidences of having the Holy Spirit. Anyone in Christ is sure to have some measure of joy. Some measure.

We become idiotic when we expect joy to manifest itself in a uniform way. For some reason there's this expectation for all Christians to be shiny, happy people all the time.

Consider a person with a naturally bubbly, pleasant temperament - it is easy for people to conclude that he is "full of the joy of the Lord" even if he has always been that way even before he met Christ, i.e., his "joy"doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the Lord, but is just symptomatic of his temperament. On the other hand, there are broody, melancholy poet / artist types who get labelled as "lacking in joy" regardless of how much they've already grown in Christ. I think that's rather unfair. And idiotic. It's wrong to assume that a noisy person is "full of joy" and that a pensive one is joyless.

The thing about joy is that it isn't necessarily expressed outwardly. Real joy isn't just about laughter and happy gestures. It has a lot to do with an inner contentment and hope, rather than an outward smile.

I've always hated it whenever I hear someone say from the pulpit, "Tell your face you're saved!" It kind of implies that those who have a hard time smiling don't know that they're saved. Anyone who knows he is "saved" would definitely have some sort of evidence of it in his life, but a constant plastic smile isn't the only way to measure it.

What about those people with facial deformities, muscle dysfunctions or biological predispositions? Are they "less saved" because they can't smile like the shiny, happy crowd? How about those who have had unbelievably painful pasts who have a hard time healing up - it would be wrong to expect them to be as instantly pleasant as those who grew up in comfortably blessed Christian homes, wouldn't it?

And let's face it: Every now and then - no matter how long you've been a believer in Christ - life can be problematic that it could be a bit difficult putting on a smile. There's nothing wrong with being sad sometimes, and there's nothing unholy in admitting it.

I happen not to be a shiny, happy person, but that does not make me a substandard Christian. I have a chemical imbalance that sometimes makes it physically difficult for me to maintain a smile; it has nothing to do with my spiritual condition, and is no indication of my salvation, maturity or love for the Lord or others. At most times, the joy that I have is visible only to God, particularly in those stretches of time when my smile can look like a frown. It's easy for other Christians to judge me as "lacking in joy" from my tired face or my low energy (and there have been numerous instances of that), but I and the Lord know how my joy has constantly increased through the years. I may not be consistently cheerful, but I am definitely a consistent Christian, as evidenced by things other than my facial expression.

Joy isn't just an emotion. It's a paradigm, a lifestyle, a worldview. Your face might have a hard time smiling sometimes, but what's important is that your heart is full of gratefulness for good things, and hope for better days.

the narrow mind

2011-04-13T00:51:00.001+08:00

I once heard a preacher adamantly declare that a Christian should be narrow-minded. With all ideologies and philosophies going around, he says, a Christian should not risk tainting himself.

While I believe that one should keep himself untainted, I don't agree that narrow-mindedness is the way to do that.

For one thing, narrow-mindedness prevents one from learning and growing. There may just be a lot of things that God can teach us through non-Christians and non-Christian thought. If God can use a donkey, He can use a so-called "Heathen" if He wants to.

I am not at all saying we should welcome all things that come our way. Having a broad mind doesn't mean accepting everything. It simply means understanding without necessarily agreeing. It means not being too hasty in dealing out judgments. You can remain committed to God without having to form negative evaluations of others. You can still be very firm about what you believe as a Christian without having to turn every conversation into a debate. You can take the high road without looking down on those who don't believe as you do.

While we know that we possess the truth in Christ, no human person, denomination or institution has the monopoly on the entire truth. The church has been around for centuries, but God is still continually showing us new things - not really changing what we believe but the way we believe. If we bullheadedly cling to the tradition and information we already have, we can miss out on fresh revelation.

Jesus indeed said the way to Heaven is narrow, but he didn't say our minds must be too (thought: narrow minds just make the narrow path even narrower, next to impossible). God is the giver of intellect, logic, creativity - I'm pretty sure He doesn't intend for us to be stupid, rigid and trite in our experience of Him.

a discipler's job

2011-04-05T14:29:00.007+08:00

Years ago I had a significant conversation with one of my mentors. It started out as the usual accountability meeting, which segued into my telling her what was bugging me at that particular time. I was feeling - as most leaders are prone to feel from time to time - upset about a few of my disciples who had dropped out of fellowship and ceased to follow the Lord. Those particular ones had been trained and became dependable workers for a time, and seeing their decayed spiritual condition frustrated me.

My mentor asked me, "Why does that upset you?"

Her inquiry puzzled me. I mean, wasn't it obvious? People under my care slipped and were posed to throw their lives away, of course I should be upset. I knew she understood what I felt, because she herself had previously shared similar emotions over similar situations in her sphere of ministry. Still, she egged me on - Why does that upset you?

I started to think whether my emotion was indeed appropriate to the situation, and I couldn't think of a reason why it shouldn't be. It was a valid reaction. Considering the amount of time, effort and emotion I invested in those particular disciplees of mine, I certainly had the right to be upset.

Besides, I've seen how other pastors / mentors / disciplers /church leaders react in worse ways when "sheep" are less than obedient (even the older, more experienced, supposedly more mature ministers - I've seen some react in anger, get controlling and say hurtful things). All I did was feel upset, and I hadn't even acted on the feeling yet. It was a certainly appropriate emotion, after all, we who have been entrusted with the care of people are accountable for their lives, right? If we flub up, we should feel upset because something isn't right, and we know God will later ask us to give an accounting. It's quite normal for pastors / ministers/ mentors / disciplers /church leaders to sense an urgency to keep people in line, because we're their watchmen, that's what good watchmen are supposed to do. Right?

That's what we were taught, and that's what was modeled to us by leaders before us. My logic was unassailable, and my mentor didn't disagree with me one bit. But as I worked through the slag of emotion, we found a tiny but significant fallacy that adversely affected my theology: somewhere underneath all my faithfulness and good intentions, I had this belief that my disciples' spiritual condition was dependent on me.

Well, that belief is a truth, but in a way not entirely. Let me explain:

It's actually true that a Christian's spiritual growth is affected greatly by the work of his discipler / pastor / mentor / whichever you want to call it. In overly simplistic terms, excellent disciplers produce excellent followers, crappy disciplers produce crappy followers. This is why churches have training programs, leadership courses and suchlike.

But since that conversation with my mentor, I began to explore the probability of disciplers, including myself, to bite off more than we should chew, to carry more than our allotted burden. Such as, out of a sick admixture of faithfulness and guilt, we pour so much of ourselves into ministry, that a lot of times there's too much of ourselves in it.

Notice how it makes us smile to see our disciples grow. We imagine the Master's approval, Well done, good and faithful servant. As we witness our "sheep" mature into worker-status, we tell them things like "I'm so proud of you!". Really? As if we had a direct claim to their growth? Like it's all about our good work in their lives, when it really isn't.

Conversely, we feel like failures when people under us don't exactly turn out the way they're supposed to (rather, more specifically, the way we want them to, according to church standards). There's this nagging feeling of "this happened on my watch", and we feel the need to clean it up as best as we can so it won't be a score against our reputations as leaders.

But are disciples' lives entirely dependent on their discipler? Of course not. We can teach our disciples, train them, help them heal, guide them and so on, but the decision to honor the Lord in every area of their lives is ultimately theirs to make, and it's something they can do only with the proper conviction. Even if we put all of our efforts into making it happen, It's not something we can make them do. That's the Holy Spirit's job.

It's not the job of a discipler / pastor / leader to convict people's hearts, so quit trying to do it. Here's a useful mantra for every church minister and worker: I Am not the Holy Spirit. Take that sentence, swirl it around in your head and say it out loud. Then say it again. You want the people in your church to be convicted by the Holy Spirit, not by holy pilit.

It's not the job of a discipler / pastor / leader to keep people in line. But it's what we think it is, from what we've seen in churches: an emphasis on right behavior, Christian ethics, "shape up" sermons. When members become leaders themselves, keeping people in line becomes the framework of their ministry because that was modeled to them by their disciplers. They'd in turn model it to their new disciples, and when those disciples become leaders themselves, the process perpetuates.

Christian discipleship is not about keeping people in line. Jesus commissions us to preach the Gospel (Mark 16:15), baptize people and teach them to follow his commands (Matthew 28: 19-20). The techniques are up to us, but we have to remember he said teach them, not coerce them. He also commands us to love them. If we've kept on doing that well, we've done "our job" - regardless of the result (but of course if we really did do it well, there would be more good results than bad ;) ).

If we have truly loved our disciples in the manner of Jesus, we as "spiritual parents" don't have to feel like failures if even after so many years they still aren't quite able to make the decision to surrender every area of their lives to the Lord. They'll come to it eventually, all we have to do is just keep on loving them in the way that they need us to (The way they need us to, not the way we want to, there is a big difference).

So yes, feeling upset over "backsliding disciples" is a valid emotion. But to believe that you have or should have had control over your disciples' will - that's idiotic. It bogs you down with guilt over things God never expected of you a discipler / leader / pastor / spiritual parent / whichever you view yourself. It can even result in ungodly, sinful leadership methods (which can be discussed in a whole other post), and we don't want any of that.

With all the various methods of behavior control we've seen - and inherited - in church, it's likely that generations of spiritual leaders and pastors before us had warped models of ministry. But we leaders of the present can start changing the way we do things now and pass a better legacy to the following generations (but before that ... perhaps it's something we must repent of as a Church? Just a thought). Discipleship doesn't have to be full of unnecessary pain and guilt - for either the discipler or the disciplee. It's certainly never guaranteed to be a perfectly blissful experience for anyone, but I don't see why we have to make it more miserable.

.