Words'nTone

T.S. Eliot, in “Four Quartets,” penned:

   “To make an end is to make a beginning.
         The end is where we start from.”

Ever look at a book’s or story’s ending before you read it?  Of course, we all have at one time or another.  I have enjoyed reading a book by Morna D. Hooker called Endings: Invitations to Discipleship.  Simply, Hooker gives us an exposition of the endings of the four Gospels and Acts and how each ending is a summary of the content of its respective book.  She suggests that each Gospel writer, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John leave us “suspended” endings.  Endings that call the reader to carry on and live out the story—live out the Gospel.  In essence, the hearers of these Gospels and the story in Acts would come to the end, the last verses, hear the main point of the author, and find an invitation to discipleship.  I read Hooker’s Endings and I am reminded of the purpose and essence of preaching.  Every Sunday morning, for over 2000 years, from the rising of the sun until its setting, all across the globe—and now from almost every language and tongue—someone stands to continue the story.  Although not the inerrant Word, preaching—in as mush as it faithfully reflects the intention of the text of Scripture—is the Word of God.  Elsewhere I have suggested: “The sermon is a redemptive historical event where God’s presence invades and the Kingdom of God is revealed in a moment in time, in a particular place, through the proclamation of His written Word.” Sidney Greidanus reminds us, “God uses contemporary preaching to bring his salvation to people today, to build his church, to bring in his kingdom. In short, contemporary biblical preaching is nothing less than a redemptive event.” The weightiness of the sermon should be taken seriously. Each sermon is a “carrying on” of the Gospel story.  Each sermon ought to be a call to discipleship—to be part of the ending.

In the recent posts on why I think the general population of Christians in the pews is lethargic to digging into their Bible and why there is a problem with Bible literacy among Christians, I mentioned one thing that bugs the living day lights out of me: When preachers say, “God gave me this message.” Now, this comes in many forms, and no matter how pious, spiritual, or even humble it sounds, it is always self-serving, dangerous, and to put it more frankly, damnably sinful. We hear, “I prayed all week and this is what God gave me.” “God laid this message on my heart.” “God gave me these verses.” Even, “God spoke to me…” and “God revealed to me…” We have heard all of these and more, from preachers, seeking to establish their authority over those—whether small or great numbers in the audience—who are listening to them.

First, the only authority a preacher has stems from the Word. No matter what they tell you God tells them. Second, these self-affirming words from preachers is always all about the preacher and not about God, nor the Word that God would like to speak to those intent on listening. Such positioning makes the message all about the one saying it—it claims power, special insight and relationship to God; it is manipulative, and self-serving. Always.

Now, listen. I am not saying the preacher can’t hear from God, or receive a burden to preach on such and such topic or texts. When I was a pastor I prayed everyday for God to help me on sermons and what to preach and when. I even asked God to give me insight. But none of these prayers were to replace sound exegesis and study. And when I did feel God had given me a message or insight or a text, I never (NEVER) claimed in front of those whom I was to speak any special insight or revelation. I did my best to preach the Word, to preach the text of Scripture. I tried to show, from the text, God’s Word to those who were listening. I tried to show how and where, from the text, I got my message. I had no authority save that which was in the text. And if I did not exposit the text, I had no authority. Whether I accomplished this every time I spoke matters not; it was my goal.

James Denny once said, “No man can bear witness to Christ and to himself at the same time. No man can give the impression that he is clever and that Christ is mighty to save.” This goes as well to claiming some special insight, divine revelation, or special relationship with God—no preacher can bear witness of the Word and to himself at the same time. No preacher can give the impression that he has received something special from God his audience cannot or has not and preach the Word of God.

Another and final reason, akin to the first (2 of 3), is that the preacher/Sunday School teacher/Bible Study leader doesn’t show the Christians in the pew how to dig into the Bible. We preachers and teachers actually teach, not just in the content of what we preach or teach, but in how we model. If we are apt to use the Bible and its words to back up what we want to say, we are not showing the everyday person in the pew how to read and interpret the Bible for themselves. The preacher/teacher becomes the hermeneutic for interpreting the Bible. But if we show them how we got our interpretation (let alone our application), we help them to see how to do it for themselves.

As mentioned above, we all have been before preachers and teachers who are telling us great things, even those we need to hear, but the texts they are quoting and the passages of Scripture they are using don’t match. At least we can’t see from the text where or how they are getting their message. At most, really at the worst, we are learning it doesn’t matter, we don’t have the secret gift to get “behind the words” and we just need to trust that the preacher/teacher is telling the truth that “God gave them the message.” At worst.

Now I grant it, sometimes it hard, but preachers/teachers need to—ought to—try hard to show, from the text, how they get their interpretation and then how the application matches the Word from God which is from the text.

It is no wonder that everyday Christians don’t devour the Bible for themselves. They are actually taught not to. We preachers and teachers need to turn that around. Take pains to show how and where they get their message, their interpretation from the texts of Scripture they are preaching/teaching from.

Additionally, topical preaching/teaching is the biggest culprit. This means a lot of “proof texting” and very little explanation on how we are getting our message. Preaching/teaching from passages and learning to listen to passages of Scripture is the best way to help the person in the pew hear from God (rather than the preacher) and, as a by product, teaches how to read the passages for themselves.

I believe Christians are lethargic about knowing their Bibles because our preachers and teachers in our churches don’t enable them to read and hear the biblical text for themselves. The preacher/teacher best serves those hearing them when they explain, from the text, where they got their message and how they got their message. Unless, truthfully, despite our chastising that Christians aren’t devouring the Bible, we actually want that power and want to keep them lethargic about getting into their Bibles.

“The prohibition against stealing and coveting are thus safeguards in behalf of the primary commandment, the love of God alone, as much as they are safeguards in behalf of the neighbor’s property” [Patrick Miller, an essay, Property and Possession in Light of Ten Commandments, p 48 in a compendium called Having: Property and Possession in Religious and Social Life].

“The acquisition of excessive wealth as it arises out of coveting and stealing is indeed a neighbor issue, but it is fundamentally a matter of the fear of God and the sole reliance on the Lord for the provision of life” [Miller, p 49].

A recent sermon on the 10th commandment, Thou shall not covet, emphasized the sin of wanting what others have. No mention was made of coveting what we already have that has already been coveted and has stolen the economic means for other people’s well-being—which by the way is actually the text where the command is found (Exodus 20:17; cf. Deuteronomy 5:21). This happens in most sermons on coveting. We concentrate through the sermon on what we don’t have but want as sin, not what we have already in our possession that has robbed others of their means of sufficiency as sin. The end of the sermon keeps the non-poor suburbanites comfortably in their social location of having more; but no application for the non-poor to repent of what they already have coveted, making restoration, and finding the salvation that God’s promises for such faith.

Although most often glossed over with poor application, this is what is most likely meant in the wee-little-man Zacch’s words in Luke 19:8:

“Zacch stopped and said to the Lord, ‘Behold, Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will give back four times as much.’”

Whatever the short-little, tree-climbing seeker of Jesus had defrauded the poor, he would restore—just like the Old Testament implies of those who covet, steal, and defraud the poor and economically vulnerable (my goodness, read the Old Testament with your eyes open!). Zacch knew, in the preaching of Jesus was the inauguration of the Kingdom, the presence of the pending judgment of God. God had promised that those who stole and coveted and as a result put the economically vulnerable in peril and in generational poverty would be faced with God’s reciprocal wrath—they too would face such poverty in their life (either through personal tragedy or exile, or death, which would make their wives and children widows and orphans like those they defrauded through stealing and coveting). This is why, when Zacch repents, Jesus says, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he, too, is a son of Abraham” (v 9).

When a sermon stresses future action to be ceased—i.e., to cease wanting what others have in this case—and neglects to point out what one already has in possession might in fact have already broken the 10th commandment, this leaves the lost (the non-poor who don’t know they are lost but sitting comfortably in the pew) not feeling lost (or having broken any commandment, especially not the ones concerning stealing and coveting) and in no need of being sought after (or of repenting for that matter). That is why Jesus ends the short tree-climbing-humbled-tax-collector story with, “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (v10). Contemporary, keep-the-comfortable-comfortable-and-give-more-to-the-church sermons leave the lost (the non-poor right there in the pews each sunday morn’n) not knowing they are actually lost, and as a result, not needing the Son of Man to seek them. This is a sad state of affairs for everyone, for the preacher who leaves the non-poor comfortable and in their sin, the poor who are to be protected, and the non-poor sinner up a tree with no salvation.

We are often told that the statistics for immorality, divorce, depression, etc. are the same or even worse for those in and out of the church. And of course, this is not good. Nonetheless, I look for causes. Why is this so? I know the cause shouldn’t be oversimplified or truncated, but I do wonder about the old adage as the leadership goes, so goes the laity. This principle isn’t far from what appears to be the pattern in both the Old and New Testaments. But, here, my thoughts are not on immorality, lifestyle, or even personally harmful decisions made by church leadership. No, in this case, as I heard the statistics again, my thoughts went in this direction:

…I wonder if those quoting the statistics and noting the similarities (between the churched and unchurched) also recognize that there seems to be equal similarities between the nature of modern preaching and the way popular self-help speakers present their goods.

I think there is a correlation between how one treats the Bible, God’s Word, in the pulpit and the lack of difference for the Bible from our unchurched neighbors. I rarely hear preaching that is more than another form of self-help, almost always appealing to the heart, which is always left undefined (don’t they get it—that is as postmodern as it gets!), shunning the intellect, and appealing to our pursuit for well-being, self-fulfillment, and satisfaction. If modern, contemporary preaching keeps us looking at the details of life, the peripheral issues of life and doesn’t lift us up to the essential, fundamental issues, we are no different than any self-help approach to life. It goes back to what I have said in other posts, “What kind of book is the Bible?” Preaching should be about the essentials, the foundations…something bigger, more grand, something beyond…preaching the Word of God should be a means to allow the unseen world, the kingdom of God to invade our lives. All this to say, we should see a correlation between our inability to morally and culturally rise above our unchurched neighbors and the nature of contemporary preaching. If someone’s to blame for such sordid statistics among the believing community, I believe preachers most bear at least some responsibility for this condition. They at least hold the remedy in their hands on Sunday morning…not a self-help book.

In his book, Cold War in Hell Harry Blamires writes on what he calls the 20th century Problem Child:

“You actually do what is good—or what is bad. In either case it is by virtue of your reason that you know what you are doing. Now whether you are a good man is determined by what you do: where you are a rational man is decided, in the first place, by what you know. Of course only the good man is strictly rational in the last analysis, since it is highly irrational to do what reason tells you is bad…If reason is corrupted, it becomes increasingly difficult for men to be good.”

Herein is a danger for us, the modern man: Strip us of our capacity for reason and we lose our ability to determine what is good and thus to better express all the more our depravity. Multiply this among the now 300 million self-determined, irrational human beings in America and you will understand why we have a culture that is fading fast. My concern isn’t just with the general community, the non-Christian, secular, ore irreligious, nor with the unchurched. My concern is the dumbing down of the Christian life—the emphasis on the heart and feelings—widens the gap between our reliance (that is the confessing Christians’ reliance) on God’s Word and the addiction to how we feel. I have seen the frustration in the voices of our Christian leaders, as to why people even in the pew don’t take the Bible, God’s Word, more seriously. Well, frankly we’ve told Christians over and over that it (that is, the Christian life) is not about thinking, or about knowledge, about our cognitive abilities, or about reason. This has a harmful cumulative affect on the christian life. We’ve dumbed down Christianity into a hallmark card (postmodern) faith of heart and feelings. And this is compounded weekly through non-exegetical, non-expositional messages in the guise of sermons, which are unbearably light on theological reflection. And, we forget that reading the Bible and learning to obey it is, at first, truly a reasonable adventure—a cognitive experience. And since we tell Christians…get away from that, it’s a matter of the heart…the congregation gladly obeys…the preacher, but not the Word. If Christians want to rise above our fading, postmodern culture, and be able to set the pace for a meaningful life, it seems to me that reason needs to find a renewal within the Christian community. I am not talking about the blogger, online, community of faith (we seem overly reasoned in that realm). I mean the regular folk of our congregations…the moms and pops, the nine-to-fivers…that crowd. Guard our reason. Take every thought captive. Renew our minds. Love the Lord God with all our minds. Pastors and preachers guard our reason… Perhaps passages such as Rom 12:1-2, Colossians 3:2, and 2 Corinthians 10 need not to be “rationalized away” and we need to (re)grasp the importance of the mind--thinking, reasoning...for the Christian life and preaching/teaching.

“For you are still fleshly. For since there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not fleshly, and are you not walking like mere men? For when one says, “I am of Paul,” and another, “I am of Apollos,” are you not mere men? What then is Apollos? And what is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, even as the Lord gave opportunity to each one. I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth. So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth. Now he who plants and he who waters are one; but each will receive his own reward according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building” (1 Corinthians 3:3-9).

These verses should humble every prominent or self-proclaimed evangelical church growth “expert” and guru and wannabe. Every pastor. Every under-shepherd of the flock. It sure humbled and convicted me as a Christian college professor. Always pontificating as if I am right, as if my words were next to God’s, as if I received them straight from the Spirit Himself. Acting as if I got, the right insight, and everyone else is missing it. Don’t get me wrong. I have deep convictions about the Word and what the original authors, through the Holy Spirit, meant when they wrote down their words. I have deep convictions about the Word’s application, especially for the up-to-date-church. I certainly don’t mean to say I should be more wishie-washie, compromising, or tolerant on interpretation of sacred text, or that I should be more open-minded. I am talking about confessing my arrogance. We picture Martin Luther taking his stand before the Council as strong, prideful, maybe even defiant. And we think that’s “me.”

“Unless I am convinced by proofs from Scriptures or by plain and clear reasons and arguments, I can and will not retract, for it is neither safe nor wise to do anything against conscience. Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen.”

Yet earlier, the great reformer pleaded with God, confessed a desire to just go home and live in peace, not troubled by the stand he must make against, who he called, “wise counsel and elders, more learned” than he, and stand for his conviction of the supremacy of God’s Word. So his words before the Council were more humble, contrite, even reluctant than arrogance. These words from the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians should strike at our heart, pierce through our misunderstanding of the nature of the Church. Reggie McNeal is right in his book, The Present Future: Six Tough Questions for the Church, when he says:

“…we have the best churches men can build, but we are still waiting for the church that only God can get credit for” (p. 23).

I don’t get to preach that often now a days (or is that one word, “nowadays”?).  But, I do have to listen to preaching.  Here’s what I wish (for 2009), that, on a regular basis, I’d hear good exposition, built and developed through sound exegesis and biblical theology and reflection.  In addition, throughout the year (and years to come), I’d like to hear messages from one book of the Bible, paragraph by paragraph or section by section (and rarely verse by verse) for a month or two or three or four straight through each Sunday.  But, before the preacher even starts the series, I’d like a few things to happen.

First, I’d like to know that the preacher has read and reread and reread and reread the book.  That he has learned to read each section, each paragraph, each verse with the whole of the book in mind…that he knows the parts and the whole at once.  I’d like to know that he has read the book in one sitting a few times and with the more lengthier books like Isaiah or I Kings (etc.), as few as two or three sittings.  I’d like to know if I were to prick the preacher, he’d bleed that bible book.  I’d like to know that before he starts even one outside study of the book or commentary or other sermons that he has done all this—and gotten to know this one bible book.

While I was at Bible College, back in the 80’s, I was wondering through the library (not so unusual for me) and saw one of my fellow Preaching class students hard at work preparing for her first preaching presentation in class.  I noticed that she had piles, literally stacks of books and commentaries all around her at this table—she was the only one at the table and there was no place left without a book or pile of books.  Her bible, neatly placed to the side was closed.  I asked her what she was preaching on.  She said a verse from Psalm such and such…she was able to give the gist, but didn’t quote it.  I could only say one thing: “Have you just gotten away, outside somewhere and just read and reread the whole Psalm over and over again, letting the words and phrases and progression just become part of you?” No, she replied.  I recommended she not get caught up in all these books—in what other say first—before she gets to know the Psalm herself first.  Then crack the other books and commentaries.  Studying for a sermon starts long before one is actually preparing the outline or points or notes on that sermon.

Then I’d like to know the preacher has worked through a solid process as he (or she) develops an outline and notes for the actual sermon.  I’d like to know the preacher has developed an exegetical summary of the passage that will be preached.  I’d like to know that the preacher has selected at least three solid commentaries (good exegetically ones—they don’t have to all agree, just be good at working through a text) and read through what trained exegetes have to say.  I’d like to know that before any preacher has gotten up in the place of God to speak to people that they have read the whole Bible at least once a year for as long as they have “felt” the call to preach.

These are just some things I wish for 2009 for congregations, churches, church plants, and preachers.

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A while back I posted what I like to call the “contextual-observation method” for studying the Bible and developing sermons (or bible studies).  Preachers and lay-leaders might find this method useful.  I know you can find books on preaching (the best one being Walter Kaiser’s Toward an Exegetical Theology: Biblical Exegesis for Preaching and Teaching), but I was able to summarize the whole concept in one post.  Follow the steps and you’ll fulfill my wish for 2009 … and beyond!

The contextual-observation method (a practical excerise)

“Now when he had spent everything, a severe famine occurred in that country, and he began to be impoverished. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would have gladly filled his stomach with the pods that the swine were eating, and no one was giving anything to him. But when he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger!’” (Luke 15:14-17).

When God is silent, we should not assume we can supply what is missing. This is why exegesis is so important (vs. the danger of eisegesis, reading into the text), and why application should follow exegesis and should not be confused with interpretation—application isn’t interpretation. Since Rick Warren (of Purpose-Driven Life fame) is (again) in the news a lot, it made me think about a time I heard him on the Sean Hannity show. Warren made a comment about “tough love” should be applied to substance abuse addicts. I had to ponder more whether I agreed with his approach to addiction or not, but it was his approach to speaking for God that caught my attention. He said, “God would have us show tough love” and then preceeded to explain that he had received this principle from the Prodigal Son story in Luke’s Gospel. Warren said we have “a prime example” in what the father did not do: when the son was eating with the pigs as a result of the son’s leaving the family and living a sinful, fast life, “the father didn’t send care packages.” So says Warren.

How do we know that? Whether he did or didn’t? How does Warren know? It doesn’t say in Luke that His father didn’t send “care packages.” Warren spoke where God is silent and developed a principle to deal with other human beings (whether it is right or wrong isn’t the issue) and thus claims divine authority on the matter. Now, that’s the issue!

Can we make principles out of what the father didn’t do? Problem is, we do not have an exhaustive story—we don’t know what the father did and didn’t do other than being sure of what is described in the story. The text doesn’t say whether the father searched for the son or not. It doesn’t tell us whether he sent him “care packages” or not. Jesus, the story-teller, is silent on this. If we want to assume anything, we could assume that the Father did search for his son, since the previous two stories (parables) show the principle characters as ones who search for what is lost. But I personally would not go there since I don’t know. I wasn’t so much thinking about what the parable of the Prodigal Son meant (although I certainly have an interpretation in mind and it surely isn’t one suggesting anything remotely related to our father-son relationships or tough love on substance abusers). I was concerned about how casually, on public radio, speaking to millions of people, someone could pull a word from God from a place in Scripture where God is silent—a word not from the text of Scripture. I recall a chapel speaker once who made a point in his sermon from Genesis 12a (he even called it that, Genesis 12a), the chapter he assumed was there between Genesis 12 and Genesis 13. We are in dangerous waters, no matter how popular one is, no matter how many copies of one’s book has been sold, no matter how big one’s church is, when we speak for God, claiming His voice from places in Scripture where He is silent. This was very bothersome to me. Happens all the time—just rarely on a secular radio talk show.

Another thing: where do we get the idea that each one of us has an individualized purpose, a custom-tailored -just-for-me-purpose designed by God?  In America, as one person remarked, we have 290 million gods.  And, it is hard to please them all.  I’d add: we have 290 million popes that can determine, all by themselves, God’s individualized purpose for their lives.  If we all are to find individualized purpose—a plan designed just for me—then we are bound to be vying for fulfilling that purpose—all together, each one doing what is right in his or her own eyes.  (Isn’t there something biblical negative about that in the first place?) Now don’t get me wrong, or misunderstand.  I do believe that, through council, a discipleship relationship, and with the assistance of a larger Christian community (one’s church or elders for example), a sub-purpose (and individual plan) can be promoted and determined and fostered and fulfilled.  But such calls for finding God’s purpose for one’s life isn’t set within that mode of disciples, but set very much within the context of American individualism and self-fulfillment.  On a Sunday morning, we are not 300 (using my church’s attendance as an example) individuals looking for custom-tailored purposes (And, perhaps potentially competing purposes, too.  And what happens if the purpose I hear--determine--God calling me to is to preach at my church--do you think the present pastor is just going to say “Okay”?).  We ought to be 300 individuals being called to a purpose.  We continue to confuse God’s call to “seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness” with American individualism and self-fulfillment.  No wonder God’s purpose doesn’t get done and we find ourselves frustrated, joyless, troubled, anxious, and plagued by individual sins and guilt.

We have turned biblical Christianity into a religion of pragmatism, exchanging a biblical worldview for a mere, and lower, utilitarian religion.  One case in point is our fascination with “practical application.” I find it ironic that I hear so much appeal for finding our purpose as Christians.  Over the course of thirty years, I hear almost every Sunday that there is a big plan for my life; that I have a purpose; that there is a grand picture, a bigger picture into which I fit.  Then, and almost in the same breath I’ll be asked about the details of my life.  I’ll be asked to repent of individualized and private sins.  Every text I hear from preachers seems to bear on the minute details of my life, or so it seems from the sermonizing.  How are we to grasp the larger picture when we’re forced to think about the details?  Especially the details of my life?  How can I find the purpose when I am asked to consider the particulars?  To decipher the minute, moments and details of my everyday life.  That’s what has me bogged down in the first place.

I find this ironic and very puzzling.  I understand that a “popular” preacher is practical and is skilled at showing how practical Christianity and the Bible is.  This is important to the current marketing of the church and of Christianity in modern society.  I understand this.  But its not remotely derived from a biblical model.  I believe it was G.K. Chesterton who once said, “For those who do not believe in God, joy is peripheral and suffering is fundamental; but for the believer, suffering is peripheral and joy is fundamental.” In other words, the Christian is one who maintains a worldview where joy is fundamental, and outside of that (i.e., the details), such things as suffering are peripheral.

Current demands on pastoral leadership (here I mean market demands and the demands of how success is now measured) present pressure that cause us to reverse this in our preaching and teaching: be practical, offer details, but yet demand everyone to sign on to God’s big purpose.  This is self-defeating—and no wonder us humans have a hard time with Christianity.  This works against the goal of discovering God’s big purpose.  In fact this works against much of Biblical material, even the texts of command and exhortation, for the biblical documents are filled with worldview-developing exhortations, and rarely the details and minutiae of private application.

Moreover, for the most part the inspired sacred text is given to help us gain the big picture, i.e., a biblical worldview.  When Mark expressed the essence and summary of the Gospel as preached by Jesus—and to be repeated by those who follow—it is, just that, a summary that is to help us frame our worldview.  Details will follow naturally.  Just as when an athlete (since its Winter Olympic time now) gives himself or herself to the sport (the big picture) and to the objectives and goals of that sport, other things, peripheral things (the details) become clear.  The athlete learns what can and cannot be done, what should and should not be done in order to fulfill the One Big Picture (i.e. play the sport).  I do believe that, within a discipleship relationship with a mature Christian mentor, one can find a sub-purpose (a personalized purpose) that can be lived out in light of the ONE BIG PURPOSE of God’s Kingdom that has arrived in the Person of Jesus Christ.  But we get lost in the details, our eyes are too close to the map, the colors of the painting all bleed together because we’re too close… We need to hear that from Scripture that we are called to this ONE BIG PURPOSE, which can be summed up, easily in two texts from the Gospels:

“Now after John had been taken into custody, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.’ As He was going along by the Sea of Galilee, He saw Simon and Andrew, the brother of Simon, casting a net in the sea; for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow Me, and I will make you become fishers of men.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed Him” (Mark 1:14-18).

“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33).

I believe that the preoccupation of the details—that is concentrating on the privatized aspects of our lives, sins, and the attempting to make Christianity so individualized and practical—actually works against God’s actually Kingdom-mission purpose being believed, own, and actualized in our life.

In the years I have been a Christian, I’d say, aside from the reference to John 3:16 and Revelation 3:20 (“Behold I stand at the door and knock”), Mark 1:17 and Matthew 4:19 have been some of the most quoted and referred to verses I have heard from the lips of Christian leaders.  In my research on social action and evangelism, I hear these verses quoted, actually, quite often as people offer definitions of evangelism.  Ranking right up there with Galatians 2:20 (“I have been crucified with Christ”), Jesus’ words about becoming “fishers of men” are staple references to refer to the way one is to be a Christian.  In some measure I agree, but not for the same reasons given by most (e.g., fishers of men = witnessing, catching people for Christ).  (In fact all the popular verses mentioned above will deserve Rough Cut time on this site!) I was struck by the fact that the interpretation of Mark 1:17 that I had posited made it difficult for this popular verse to be applied.  My interpretation didn’t seem practical.  I have always struggled with our fixation with application.  I wrote in the fishers of men Rough Cut:

It can be too easy to resort to popular interpretations because they are, however misleading (away from the text), often easier to grasp.  We shouldn’t exclude difficult to understand allusions just because they are harder to relate to, or are more difficult to apply personally.  I pause to point out that we, in the contemporary American Church, are fixated on application.  There is a tendency to skip and even to eschew the vital step of interpretation (by which I mean exegesis).  Somewhere along the way, we abandoned the discipline of exegesis and biblical interpretation in exchange for American pragmatism.  The Bible often becomes, with each individual part (i.e., each text, each verse, and even sometimes just a word here and there in a verse), a utilitarian tool to give detail instructions and application—specific do’s and don’ts.  Every text has to be practical.  This makes it all the harder to offer interpretations that—on the surface—do not seem practical, or easily applied.  (The fishers of men Rough Cut)

This fixation on application and practicality makes it especially difficult to offer interpretations of popular verses that are hard to understand and difficult to apply.  Such fixation on texts having to always be “practical” can lead us away from what God is actually saying through a text (like “I will make you become fishers of men” or “I have been crucified with Christ”).  As my essay on “fishers of men” points out, we should seek to understand the significance of a text first, then—and only then—can we apply what God has said.  (The fishers of men Rough Cut)

Ian Stackhouse has presented a rather potent book on the subject of God’s purpose for the church, The Gospel-Driven Church: Retrieving Classical Ministries for Contemporary Revivalism.  This book, although more biblically based and more truly reflective of good exegesis and biblical reflection, will be ignored, and sadly overshadowed by the New York Times best seller, The Purpose-Driven Church by Rick Warren.  I’d love to get these two authors in a debate!

As I read Stackhouse’s book, I was once again reminded of why I admire Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the radical German Pastor who penned the book The Cost of Discipleship.  Although most people take the book on discipleship inividualiztically, Bonhoeffer has much to speech to the preacher and to the community as a whole.  Stackhouse references Bonhoeffer as he pointedly spoke of the church’s “cheap grace.” Stackhouse writes:

“In terms of preaching, it requires, according to Bonhoeffer, competence and careful exegesis to ensure that it is the text, and not the personal preferences of the preacher, that determines what is said.  ‘When we ask ourselves, “What shall I say today to the congregation?” we are lost,’ says Bonhoeffer.  ‘But when we ask, “What does this text say to the congregation?” we find ample support and abundant confidence.  The faithfulness with which we enter the text makes this possible’ (p. 108).”

The component of worship where the congregation needs to hear from God and a retelling of the redemptive acts of God is called “the sermon.” But we have strayed from this important aspect of worship and have neglected this vital act of continual renewal of the church for preacher-opinions, self-aggrandizement, and agenda, and recruitment.  We have confused hearing about the preacher with hearing from God.  Perhaps the preacher wants to tell the congregation what he or she thinks God wants the congregation to hear, but this is not the same thing as hearing from God through faithful exegetical exposition of the text of Scripture.  Unless the sermon is a faithful exegesis of the text, it is, then, just cheap words.  The one delivering the sermon, while doing his or her homework and then at the point of delivery should have one thing and one thing alone as ultimate concern, “What does the text say to the congregation?” This is the preacher’s one aim.

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The text of Bonhoeffer’s original German text has been updated in Discipleship (Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, Vol. 4)

“Behold, days are coming,” declares the Lord God, “When I will send a famine on the land, not a famine for bread or a thirst for water, but rather for hearing the words of the LORD.  People will stagger from sea to sea and from the north even to the east; they will go to and fro to seek the word of the LORD, but they will not find it.  In that day the beautiful virgins and the young men will faint from thirst” (Amos 8:11-13).

In a current book on bible promises, you won’t find the promise described and alluded to in the above text.  This promise is staggering.  Hopeless.  Devastating.  And yet, we bring it on ourselves.  How so?  We exchange the words of the Lord for our words every Sunday morning, from the very place where there should thunder a Word from the Lord.  We might use the bible, a text or two, a bible story or narrative, but it (the text) isn’t explained—exegeted—it is used to bounce into our thoughts and appeals.  For sure, some of the things we hear from the Sunday morning pulpit is filled with good things, even right things, but unless the outcome of the preacher’s words are built on and are through the text of Scripture, that’s all they are, “the preacher’s words.” The sermon is replaced with a message, a speech, a personal description of who the preacher is and what he (or she) wants.

We are in the midst of a continued famine.  We die a little more each Sunday.  The problem isn’t that we—from time to time—have good words (good speeches) from our preachers, with words and nuggets of truth for us.  Here’s the problem:  When we, no matter how insightful and “applicable” or “relevant” the preacher’s words (i.e., speech) might be, there is a consequence for using a text and not explaining (i.e., exegeting) it.  First there is no God-given authority (no, “thus sayeth the LORD); second because of the ability of the preacher there might be a sentimental response—which usually does not last or make for a lasting change in the hearer, sort of like just getting an “Amen” from the crowd; third, anyone, a politician, spiritual guru, self-help speaker, professor, journalist can get a response from insightful or motivating words—so what!; and finally, here’s the real problem, a crap-shoot in the meaning of the preacher’s own message as understood by the hearers.

What do I mean by this last comment?  The preacher gets the same result from his listeners as he has shown in how he has used the text of Scripture.  If a text can mean anything a preacher wants it to mean, then their words and message (i.e., sermon) will be received the same way: the audience will give whatever meaning they want to the preacher’s message.  The same approach the preacher gives to proof-texting, word-attraction, bouncing off the text an idea—call it what you may—will be the same approach the audience will give to the “sermon.” That means there will be loads of meaning given to the “message” on any given Sunday morning.  I can do whatever I want with the preacher’s words, give it any meaning I desire. That[‘s what the preacher is doing to the text of Scripture—why can’t I?

The result, a continued famine of the Word of the LORD in our midst.  I included verse 13, “In that day the beautiful virgins and the young men will faint from thirst,” because the ultimate, devastating consequence of a famine of the Word is the malnourishment and lack of stamina for our next generation (i.e., “virgins and young men”), which results in their inability to maintain faithfulness to the LORD.

Afterthought: If I took my pastor’s message and retold it, made it whatever I wanted it to mean, I wonder if the preacher would appreciate that, or would he (or she) say, “No, that’s not what I mean, you need to explain what I intended my words, syntax, grammar, context, to mean.” What an awful mess we have.  I am so thirsty!  How about you?

I wasn’t really satisfied with what I posted as my “Principal Idea” for the latest thread, First Things First: No other streams...so I reserve the right to change my mind and edit…

Those delivering messages from the Bible must actually believe and be firmly committed to the Bible as God’s Word, the ultimate authority and only source for life and redemption—presenting or preaching anything else is deceptive and enables others to believe there are “other streams” that can quench one’s need for God, forgiveness, and God-given life.

My point in the meditation is that “there is no other stream” from which one can quench one’s spiritual thirst, so when preachers offer less than the Word of God preached (no matter which form or in which style) they offer other streams--whether it be their own “testimony” or agenda, a vision for their church, some form of political and evangelical correctness--that will not redeem or empower. The audience might think its God’s Word they are hearing; but in truth it is not and it is less than God’s Word. This is why it is so important to be committed to God’s Word preached--the audience, the congregation, is depending on the preacher to deliver God’s Word and some something less. So--I changed my principal idea for the meditation, ”No other stream.”