Who taught you how to judge?

Who taught you how to judge?

Our day is filled to the brim with judgements. Bacon is good, bacon is bad. This money is enough, that money is too much. This look was lust, and that look was appraisal. This thought was flesh, and the other was Spirit. This guy is half-baked, and that guy is toast.

Who taught us how to judge? We'd like to say that most of our judgements come from scripture, from illumination, from reason, from wisdom, from knowledge, from experience.

I recently was reminded how much of my judgement comes from other sources.

I was in the midst of renewing a relationship with a figure from my youth, a spiritual authority, the closest thing I had to a father figure. After what looked like a good start, I was given the brush-off. Intellectually, I understand the reasons for it. But the pain of rejection was real, and came with insight.

For days after the brush-off, I would experience pangs where I was reminded of the closed-door. I would be going about my ordinary day, working, driving, pondering, and then wham, the painful reminder of rejection. I began to see a pattern emerge regarding the timing of the pain.

It was like hurting a toe. While I remained still, everything felt fine. But when I walked on that foot, ouch. That sprained toe happened to be my sense of judgement.

I had inherited many daily judgements from this figure. Unconsciously, I would would judge a person, or thing, or situation in light of something he had said to me years ago. And if that wasn't bad enough, I would judge things in light of his imaginary approval. For days after the rejection, I felt a twinge of pain every time I employed a judgement which I inherited from him.

God is good, I needed this pointed out to me.

All my judgements are questionable. In addition to judgements inherited from the paternal, add the worries from the maternal. Add the fear of bullies. Add the approval of peers. Add the prejudices of culture. Add all the assurances and guilts of fundamentalism.

Given all of this, how many of my daily judgements are the result of illumination of scripture, from reason, from wisdom, from knowledge, from the Spirit? Twenty percent? Ten percent? Five?

Eph 6:4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but nurture them in the chastening and admonition of the Lord.

The first glance at the verse tells us not to exasperate them. But there is a second observation. Children inherit their wrath from us. If I hate a political figure, they'll probably hate him too. If I am angry at the neighbor, the kids are angry the neighbor. The immigrant. The fellow driver. The person at the front of the line. The waitress. The customer. The government. The opposite sex. The church on the other corner. "Yeah Daddy, they're all jerks."

Who taught you how to judge?

Remembering and Forgetting

Forgive me, I am probably about to do violence to the text. You with weak constitutions, look away.

Matt 7:21-23 Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’

What we have here are Christians presenting their resumes. It can be no one else. Prophecy in His name, exorcisms in His name, many wonders in His name. I don't think the "many" would be capable of lying at this point. I think they really did these things, and did them while employing His name.

But it's interesting that "Lord, Lord" can be apart from the will of the Father. It is interesting that works and wonders in the name of Jesus are set in contrast to the will of the Father. It's interesting that the allegation of lawlessness would be made against a record of ministerial achievements. It's interesting that the works and wonders could be so effective and visible if Jesus can claim He never knew the practitioner.

It is interesting, the word "we". It does not appear that they are in single file. As a group, they present their case. Contrast them to another group which was asked for an account.

Matt 25:37-39 Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’

Group number one knew exactly what they were presenting. They put a value on their work from the very beginning, and committed it to memory. Group number two seems ignorant or else downright forgetful.

Consider the separation of one kind of work from another, things forgotten and things remembered. It often happens that someone will thank us for something we said or did, and we have no memory of it. It was just an offhand remark, or a practical act of kindness, just a gesture. But it might have meant everything. Nevertheless, the thing we remember best are our own conspicuously religious words and deeds. These are also the things that we use for our defense and justification.

The Lord is forgetting the conspicuous things which we remember, and gathering up the hidden things which we have forgotten.

Maybe I listened to a brother in the Sunday gathering for 52 weeks in a row for ten years, but can only give a hazy account of his eloquence. But then there was this one time in the car where he made a thoroughly secular remark that will edify the rest of my days. Which will stand in the coming age?

What if the Lord forgets our prophecies, exorcisms, and wonders (Matt:7)? What if He instead remembers the food, drink, bed, clothes, remedies, and visits (Matt:25)?

What if the Lords forgets the sermons and remembers the potlucks? What if He forgets the pageants and remembers the campfire sing-alongs? What if He forgets Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God and remembers Rack, Shack, and Benny?

What if he plucks out the right eye of theological discernment, and cuts off the right hand of ministerial achievement so that the rest can enter in?

I Consider You Pointless

In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie Bucket says to Mike Teavee, "Candy doesn't have to have a point. That's why it's candy."

I gather with you brothers and sisters because it is pointless. You are all useless. I know how that sounds, but I mean it in the best way.

Folks will more readily make time for you if there is a payoff. Of course, if someone is paying for goods or services, the schedule is wide open, isn't it? But there are non-monetary payoffs, like imagined treasures in heaven or the legacy of reputation on this earth. Some people will meet with you if it furthers their entry into a social circle or business network. Some people can find the time for you if you'll become part of their hierarchy of discipleship or mentoring. Some people might consider you worth their time if you have information they want.

But I guarantee you, if I look forward to getting together with you, it's because it is pointless. If I'm genuinely happy to be with you, it is because I have no use for you.

By you should be thinking about the "one-anothering" verses, and the stuff about edification. Surely that's a "point", right? Folks who know me will understand I'm all for that. What I'm saying is that getting together without an agenda creates a vacuum, which sounds useless, but is actually an opportunity for the Lord.

You see, you exist for the Lord, and the question of your usefulness is a question for Him. The question of our usefulness to each other is also  a matter for Him. If I'm getting together with you, I'm looking for His point. We might have our reasons to be in the same place at the same time, but He has His own. We might pick up on His agenda right away, or much later, or never (and that's okay). We have agendas for our encounters which might succeed or fail according to our measure, but it is His agenda which stands, His motive which matters.

I'd love to have lunch with you, or gather unto the Lord in a group, or whatever. Especially if there is no point. Because if it has a point, because if you or I are useful to one another, it will take that much longer to discern the result the Lord is working on.

You are useless to me, and our fellowship is pointless. That's a high compliment.

Unity in Futility

Among the simple gatherings, a lot has been said and a lot has been written about unity regarding what it is, how it is achieved, and its priority.

I'm going to overturn a table now.

We have two components to our unity, a visible component and an invisible component. And these components are the polar opposite of how we think and how we operate and what we say to one another.

We tend to unify around visible righteousness and invisible unrighteousness. But our real unity is in visible unrighteousness and invisible righteousness.

That is, we tend to gather around good things that are publicly regarded as reasonable and correct, whether doctrines or practices. And we shove all the crap into the closet. When we're outside of the house, we say the same things and do the same things, and hide the same things. We're all together in this, all in lockstep. That's how unity has been working.

But the truth is that we're really and truly united in our weakness and our need. Though we strive to hide it, we're not fooling anybody. This is what unites us with the rest of the human race, that we collectively all fall short. But when we try to cover this fact up by wearing our religious heritage in order to distinguish ourselves from the world, we become an inverse parable. The world knows the truth. We mean for our religion to show forth our God by what we are, but it causes the world to understand God by what we are not. They can point to us and say, "Whatever God is, He is not like that". In truth, we are united in our visible crapulence (which is a good starting point for a parable), not our visible righteousness (which becomes an inverse parable, a cautionary tale). Thus the visible component of our unity is not what we think it is.

The true and invisible component of our unity is the spiritual component. We might attempt to somehow fashion this invisible component into the visible banner of our unity. But in our attempt to promote the true and invisible things as rallying points, we instead produce philosphies and practices that can be set alongside all the other doctrines and laws of this world. Unification contains the seeds of its own destruction. Once we crystallize our invisible unity into visible forms, they become tangible opporunities to show ourselves approved, to divide from one another.

Unity begins in the mind of God. Confronted by God, we're all subjected to futility, so that He can have mercy on all. My futility is my connection to you. Whether you are a believer or not, I don't have to know you very well to know that we have something in common at the very pit of our existence. You and I, we're bumping our heads against the same barriers of ignorance and death. No man has seen God at any time. We are in the same boat, this is visible and evident.

If you're a believer, I'll gather with you in our shared need, in our shared impotence, in our search for the things which are not visible or knowable apart from revelation from the Unknown God who (we believe) becomes known to us through the Son, who speaks in parables through a glass darkly.

The Technical Solution

I had an acquaintance contact me about something related to my vocation. He was building a fence on his lot and needed to know where to put it.

Upon reading his note, my mind went to what I do at work. Coordinates, bearings, distances, legal descriptions. But I then realized it was all overkill. I told him to find a metal detector and a shovel, walk out to where he guessed his corners might be and when the detector made a noise, dig a little circle and pull out the grass plug to see if he saw an iron rod in the ground. Build there.

At the job, most of us are experts at what we do, at least to a degree. When family, friends, or neighbors ask for advice touching upon our expertise, we might look at it as an opportunity to shine.

But the fence builder did not need a full-blown survey. He just needed to know where his corners were. He didn't need me to shine. He didn't need my expertise. He needed a metal detector and a shovel. All I provided was a sense of confidence that he was perfectly capable to work his own land, and that everything would be okay. All I did was give a token of encouragement.

We have young folks in the gathering who are learning guitar. Sometimes when giving advice, the impulse is to overload them with music theory. But I have to remember to point out that what I'm doing in the meeting boils down to something simple. Three chords, most of the time. Kids, learn G, C, and D. Start there. You can do anything with those. Once you get that under your skin, we can talk about three more. With a guitar and three chords, the world is your oyster.

The first impulse is the technical impulse. If the layman asks for his corner, the technician needs to prove his worth by surveying the world. If the layman wants to sing and play Jesus Loves Me on guitar, the technician shows off his expertise by giving him music theory at the piano.

You've guessed I'm talking about the church. A possible objection to my trajectory: we need experts among us to provide technical content to protect us from error which leads to disaster.

To that objection, I must recall what Paul said to a disastrous Corinthian church, thirteen chapters into his corrective letter:

"Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Are all workers of miracles? Do all have gifts of healings? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret? But earnestly desire the best gifts. And yet I show you a more excellent way." Then Paul launches into his famous illustration about love.

"And yet I show you a more excellent way." Who speaks like that? Who says that today?

Not just tell you, rather Show You. Not merely correct, but More Excellent. Not a theory, but a Way.

People don't knock on your door with literature in their hand and offer to "show you a more excellent way". They knock on your door to sign you up, to conform you to their theories, and thereby justify themselves. But we've all knocked on each others "doors" this way. We've all received the door-knocking treatment while sitting in a pew or on a sofa. We've given the door-knocking treatment with an open Bible in our laps.

What is Paul's more excellent way? Yeah, you know it. It is love. And he goes on to give a famous (and surprisingly secular) description.

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned,but have not love, it profits me nothing. Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails."

We ought to feel a little uncomfortable with this. Paul has just negated our expertise. He has called into question every technically correct solution. He causes us to question our image of God, which may only faintly smack of love.

When Paul opens with, "And yet I show you a more excellent way," it is an invitation to prove him wrong. It is an invitation to observe him whose authority is inseparable from his example. It is an invitation to imitate him and see whether or not there is an objective pay-off, individually and corporately. We should feel uncomfortable that apart from the action of the More Excellent Way (which measures us), our words are weasel-words, our advice is theory, our assertions are beyond proof.

Aux Perc

You're flipping through the channels and land on PBS. A symphony is playing, leave it there for a minute. The camera is picking up various musicians at work. It's not only the sound, but also the sight that is inspiring. Look at the way the string players lean into it, even the animation in the eyebrows of the wind players.

Hey, what's that? Some guy on the back row has picked up some kind of stage prop and made a loud noise. Where did he come from? Is he even a musician? Anybody can bang two gizmos together. Sheesh. What has he been doing during the song while the real experts have been giving it their all?

He was doing precisely what the composer and conducter wanted him to do. He was resting and counting the measures, staying in readiness to unleash his peculiar joyful noise at the right moment.

Cameras are deceiving. The art of the camera is in what it leaves outside of the frame. Great pictures are made by cropping. During our symphony, the camera is showing the guys who are playing the conspicuous parts. That's just good TV. But have you ever wondered what everyone else is doing?

They are counting. They are emptying spit valves and keeping warm air in the horn. They are looking and listening to their peers. They are obeying the composer and conductor by resting. They are silent by design.

I have a friend whose electronic signature contains the quote, "There is no music in a rest, but there is making of music in it."

If you think about it a certain way, a rest seems absurd for such gifted people. Here are these world-class musicians, the cream of the crop. They have spent the majority of their lives studying and practicing and performing their craft. Here they are on stage in front of a huge live audience, and also being recorded for posterity. And then they have to sit there and be silent. Here they are getting paid good money and they might be doing nothing at all for long stretches.

Imagine the thoughts of the first chair violin observing a rest. "Here I am, stuck with a 64 bar rest. I'm so bored. I've played everything Mozart has ever written. I know exactly what Mozart would have put here. I think it's time for a solo, so I can earn my bread. They aren't paying me to sit on my hands. Here we go."

That's absurd, right? But that's how we have tended to operate in the Body of Christ.

1 Cor: 26-29
"For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence."

First of all, most of us are auxiliary percussion. We just are. And there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, it is by design. But whether we're on triangle or first fiddle, we must follow the Composer and Conductor and enter into silence when it is time. In silence, there is listening and watching and readiness. Silence is used by the Composer as an intentional musical technique. A rest is every bit as musical as a note. It is crucial.

But nature abhors a vaccuum, and that goes for human nature as well. If you ever visit our gathering, one of the things that you will notice is that there are periods of silence. And this can be awkward for a guest (or even a regular). In the usual church gathering, things are scripted in such a way that there is no silence. One thing follows another, sight and sound always fill the senses. The meeting is just an example. But I'm talking about life in general.

The impulse is to fill spiritual silences with something, anything. And often, it is the gifted-ones who take it upon themselves to fill it, like the first violin in my absurd little illustration. "Here I am, stuck with a period of inactivity. I'm good at my thing. I have a good idea what the Lord would be saying and doing in this situation. I didn't go through so much preparation just to sit on my hands. Let's roll." And frankly, since inactivity does not make good TV (and all other media) we've only been shown the gifted folks in action. Quiet life is cropped out of the frame.

If a silence is scripted and we honk into it, we've played it wrong. In Spirit it might be hard to discern what kind of silence we are experiencing in a particular season. But at least the thought should enter our minds that a period of inactivity might be scripted. It might be a "Selah" like in a Psalm. We should at least consider the possibility. Because if it is a silence by design, we can with good conscience enter into listening, looking, counting, and readiness. We can greet the stillness with a sense of expectancy. At any moment we may be called upon by the Conductor to make that peculiar joyful noise that was penned by the Composer before the foundation of the world.

Come into the Circle

Recall in Princess Bride, Prince Humperdink ordering the priest at his wedding, "Skip to the end." That is what we tend to do when we get to the most important chapter in Paul's letter to the church at Rome.

What? Most important chapter? Yes, because everything Paul writes comes forth out of it.

It happens to be the guide for this blog. I could write about anything under the sun. I could write about things that stimulate me. I could paraphrase ideas of whatever author I am reading at the moment. I could react to the news. I could attempt to defend and persuade you concerning my favorite subjects.

But consider what Paul was doing. Everything he wrote came out of his relationship with actual flesh-and-blood individuals. As he dictated his letter, he had their faces in his mind's eye. In his letter are things he wanted to tell them face-to-face in the gathering, and therefore it would have passed the test of "let everything be done for edification".

In this blog I have determined to write down the things which I have shared in the gathering, because I spoke these things under the awareness of the rule of love. So it will pass the test for you, even though we have never met. By reading these articles, you have crossed into my circle of fellowship. Come in.

"Be sure to welcome our friend Phoebe in the way of the Master, with all the generous hospitality we Christians are famous for. I heartily endorse both her and her work. She's a key representative of the church at Cenchrea. Help her out in whatever she asks. She deserves anything you can do for her. She's helped many a person, including me. Say hello to Priscilla and Aquila, who have worked hand in hand with me in serving Jesus. They once put their lives on the line for me. And I'm not the only one grateful to them. All the non-Jewish gatherings of believers also owe them plenty, to say nothing of the church that meets in their house. Hello to my dear friend Epenetus. He was the very first follower of Jesus in the province of Asia.Hello to Mary. What a worker she has turned out to be!Hello to my cousins Andronicus and Junias. We once shared a jail cell. They were believers in Christ before I was. Both of them are outstanding leaders. Hello to Ampliatus, my good friend in the family of God. Hello to Urbanus, our companion in Christ's work, and my good friend Stachys. Hello to Apelles, a tried-and-true veteran in following Christ. Hello to the family of Aristobulus. Hello to my cousin Herodion. Hello to those who belong to the Lord from the family of Narcissus. Hello to Tryphena and Tryphosa, such diligent women in serving the Master. Hello to Persis, a dear friend and hard worker in Christ. Hello to Rufus (a good choice by the Master!) and his mother. She has also been a dear mother to me. Hello to Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermes, Patrobas, Hermas, and also to all of their families. Hello to Philologus, Julia, Nereus and his sister, and Olympas, and all the followers of Jesus who live with them. Holy embraces all around! All the churches of Christ send their warmest greetings!"

Allow me to join this passage up with a couple of things from Jesus.

"Who are my mother and my brothers? Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

If Christ, the very image of God, can say this to the very ordinary people in that room, how much more can we say this to one another?

"No one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields."

This is the power out of which Paul writes his great epistle. When we read the letter, we enter into family relationship with Paul, who is giving his love to us. This is the center out of which we must speak to one another in the assembly. Come into the circle, brothers and sisters.