That was the question Pontius Pilate asked of Jesus as he inquired of His kingdom and of His testimony as recorded in John 18: 38. And for generations, philosophers and thinkers alike have posed the same question: "What is truth?" Jesus emphatically says when Pilate affirms that He is a king, "You say that I am a king. For this reason I was born, and for this reason I came into the world --- to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to My voice" (John 18: 37). If we rewind, however, several months before this encounter, that during the earthly ministry of Jesus, He declares "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14: 6). Since Jesus is the Truth, then everyone who belongs to Jesus listens to His voice. So, the real question isn't "what is truth," but appropriately "Who is Truth?"
As the hour approached that He would be betrayed into the hands of evil men with a kiss in the garden by Judas, Jesus prayed to the Father, "Sanctify them by your truth. Your Word is truth" (John 17: 17). In the first chapter of the Gospel of John, a revealing truth is made manifest to us: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning" (John 1: 1, 2). Who is Truth? The Word is Truth. Who is the Word? Jesus is the Word because Jesus is the Truth. Pray tell, "Who is Jesus?" Jesus is God.
Question: Do you belong to the Truth? If so, do you listen to His voice? Hint: the second question should not be a question at all if you belong to the Truth.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Strays
This afternoon, God taught me a lesson about what concerns His heart most about the world. When I went to Aldi, a young man asked if I could support his cause by purchasing a candy bar. I said, "Not today." He asked again if I could at least give a donation, hoping in his heart that I'd change my mind. His hands visibly soiled and his gumpy disposition finally caught my attention, but I still said, "Not right now." My mind was concerned with other things. So, I moved on.
After taking care of another "urgent" errand, I left the Jewel-Osco only to be confronted by another "person in need." At first he appeared more engaged with the coversation he was having with a woman it seemed was familiar to him. However, he briefly interrupted it to ask as I exited through the automatic door, "Can you help me out?" His frumpy, old bag and dark-skinned legs drew my attention, his eyes calling out for compassion; I responded, "Can't help you out. Sorry." I was in a rush to get home, in a rush to prepare for small group, in a rush to not be too concerned with what could have been a gospel moment.
As I neared the house, just a quiet block away, I saw a small, wire-haired dog in the middle of Wrightwood Avenue. He was almost hit by a car. My heart went out to it. I slowed my car in an apparent attempt to catch up with it, to keep track of it. The driver behind me blew his horn. I pulled a u-turn in the middle of the street in order to pull over, in order to "catch" the dog.
A man on foot had the same endeavor it seemed. He carried earbuds in his hand. We were fruitless in our effort to keep up with it. The dog proceeded to walk down an alley way. I called out to it, and the little thing stopped and turned around. It seemed to have my attention now, both of us making eye contact. I proceeded to get out of my car and walk toward it. The wire-haired dog, unconcerned about my "apparent" compassion, turned around and ran away from me, around the corner into the other alley way.
The man with the earbuds in his hand who seemed to be just as concerned about the dog as I was, caught up with me. I asked him from my car if the dog belonged to him. He replied no. I assumed that the dog was "lost" although it appeared that around its neck was a collar with a tag. I told the man with the earbuds in his hand the the little, wire-haired dog had run around the corner into another alley way. He peered into my eyes from a distance and frankly replied, "I guess it knows where its going," and continued to follow the dog's unmarked trail.
Then Jesus went throughout all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, He had compassion on them because they were bewildered and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, "The Harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest." Matthew 9: 35 - 38
Question. Do you view people the way God views people, or are you chasing down the wrong strays?
After taking care of another "urgent" errand, I left the Jewel-Osco only to be confronted by another "person in need." At first he appeared more engaged with the coversation he was having with a woman it seemed was familiar to him. However, he briefly interrupted it to ask as I exited through the automatic door, "Can you help me out?" His frumpy, old bag and dark-skinned legs drew my attention, his eyes calling out for compassion; I responded, "Can't help you out. Sorry." I was in a rush to get home, in a rush to prepare for small group, in a rush to not be too concerned with what could have been a gospel moment.
As I neared the house, just a quiet block away, I saw a small, wire-haired dog in the middle of Wrightwood Avenue. He was almost hit by a car. My heart went out to it. I slowed my car in an apparent attempt to catch up with it, to keep track of it. The driver behind me blew his horn. I pulled a u-turn in the middle of the street in order to pull over, in order to "catch" the dog.
A man on foot had the same endeavor it seemed. He carried earbuds in his hand. We were fruitless in our effort to keep up with it. The dog proceeded to walk down an alley way. I called out to it, and the little thing stopped and turned around. It seemed to have my attention now, both of us making eye contact. I proceeded to get out of my car and walk toward it. The wire-haired dog, unconcerned about my "apparent" compassion, turned around and ran away from me, around the corner into the other alley way.
The man with the earbuds in his hand who seemed to be just as concerned about the dog as I was, caught up with me. I asked him from my car if the dog belonged to him. He replied no. I assumed that the dog was "lost" although it appeared that around its neck was a collar with a tag. I told the man with the earbuds in his hand the the little, wire-haired dog had run around the corner into another alley way. He peered into my eyes from a distance and frankly replied, "I guess it knows where its going," and continued to follow the dog's unmarked trail.
Then Jesus went throughout all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, He had compassion on them because they were bewildered and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, "The Harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest." Matthew 9: 35 - 38
Question. Do you view people the way God views people, or are you chasing down the wrong strays?
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Forgive the Distraction
Forgive me, friends, for allowing myself to be distracted from one of the most worthwhile exercises that engaged minds can practice: reflective writing. When one has the tendency to "disengage" from the world and turn inward toward self and its own desires, he becomes less reflective on matters impacting his world and far more focused on matters that impact his "appetite." More often than not, my appetite is one of escape rather than engagement; not wanting to think reflectively about the challenges facing our spiritual condition and moral landscape, but rather reverting to an an almost arrested stage of development where the boy in me wishes to hide. However childish that may sound, I am a man-boy locked in a battle between flesh and spirit for the stake of the mind. And when that disengagement ensues, other disciplines are equally impacted; mainly prayer, the study of God's Word, and relationship building.
It is time to shout aloud "Ollie, Ollie, Oxenfree," and to stop hiding. Get engaged and reflect on the things that matter most to an All-knowing and holy God. He has empowered us by His Spirit as His called-out ones to engage and address our world with the truths of His Word and with the love of His Son, Jesus. There is no other way to encounter the brokeness of our world, but to actively experience it by engaging it on the frontlines.
It is time to shout aloud "Ollie, Ollie, Oxenfree," and to stop hiding. Get engaged and reflect on the things that matter most to an All-knowing and holy God. He has empowered us by His Spirit as His called-out ones to engage and address our world with the truths of His Word and with the love of His Son, Jesus. There is no other way to encounter the brokeness of our world, but to actively experience it by engaging it on the frontlines.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Perchance to Dream
This is the email that I addressed to Richard Roeper and Mary Mitchell, two columnists for the Chicago Sun-Times, who today addressed race, hope, and Obama in two telling columns that portray a nation divided:Dear Mary and Richard,
Thank you for your respective articles in Thursday's Chicago Sun-Times. I was really encouraged by Richard's column on vision, dreams and the importance of Mr. Obama's oratory of hope. It amazes me that many people in our nation have forgotten how to dream. It was America's dream to rocket into space. It happened. I know that it is not that simple, and in fact many of the dreams of those who have traditionally been marginalized and minimalized have yet to come to fruition: dreams of access to quality health care, quality education, and quality employment; dreams of safety and peace in down-trodden communities entrenched with violence, blight, and drugs; dreams of financial peace and reconciliation for families who have experienced varied forms of brokenness; and dreams of equal justice under the law. Vision without mission, however, is only a pipe dream. Hence, we the people "who are darker than blue" (not just black folk) need to covenant with each other and collaboratively ensure that the hopes and dreams of countless numbers of gentrified and disenfranchised Americans can become a reality.
I grew up, Mary, in a black Baptist church in Detroit. It was under the leadership of Dr. Frederick G. Sampson at Tabernacle Missionary Baptist Church that I learned about the human struggles that were important to the black community. It was here that we missioned together to address these struggles with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As I've written elsewhere "The same biblical truth that formed the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement, is the same biblical truth that felled the walls of Jericho." It saddens me that the rhetoric and deep emotion of the collective hurt of the black community has now been used to divide the nation even further in a presidential race that becomes more polarized every day.
In many ways it has been the local, visible, and vocal churches of the urban center, like Armitage Baptist Church where my wife and I serve here in Chicago, that have intentionally sought to address both the human struggle and mankind's need for a Savior; to become churches of such size and strength that we can impact the city of Chicago and the cities of the world. And yet the culture of religion is polarizing in this country. As we've heard even unto cliche, 11 o'clock on Sunday is the most segregated hour in America. I believe that along with being intentional, incarnational, and personal, the ministries of the church should seek to be cross-cultural (not assimilationist) as well as supernatural. Perhaps this can happen. Perchance to dream.
Sincerely,
Michael
Thank you for your respective articles in Thursday's Chicago Sun-Times. I was really encouraged by Richard's column on vision, dreams and the importance of Mr. Obama's oratory of hope. It amazes me that many people in our nation have forgotten how to dream. It was America's dream to rocket into space. It happened. I know that it is not that simple, and in fact many of the dreams of those who have traditionally been marginalized and minimalized have yet to come to fruition: dreams of access to quality health care, quality education, and quality employment; dreams of safety and peace in down-trodden communities entrenched with violence, blight, and drugs; dreams of financial peace and reconciliation for families who have experienced varied forms of brokenness; and dreams of equal justice under the law. Vision without mission, however, is only a pipe dream. Hence, we the people "who are darker than blue" (not just black folk) need to covenant with each other and collaboratively ensure that the hopes and dreams of countless numbers of gentrified and disenfranchised Americans can become a reality.
I grew up, Mary, in a black Baptist church in Detroit. It was under the leadership of Dr. Frederick G. Sampson at Tabernacle Missionary Baptist Church that I learned about the human struggles that were important to the black community. It was here that we missioned together to address these struggles with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As I've written elsewhere "The same biblical truth that formed the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement, is the same biblical truth that felled the walls of Jericho." It saddens me that the rhetoric and deep emotion of the collective hurt of the black community has now been used to divide the nation even further in a presidential race that becomes more polarized every day.
In many ways it has been the local, visible, and vocal churches of the urban center, like Armitage Baptist Church where my wife and I serve here in Chicago, that have intentionally sought to address both the human struggle and mankind's need for a Savior; to become churches of such size and strength that we can impact the city of Chicago and the cities of the world. And yet the culture of religion is polarizing in this country. As we've heard even unto cliche, 11 o'clock on Sunday is the most segregated hour in America. I believe that along with being intentional, incarnational, and personal, the ministries of the church should seek to be cross-cultural (not assimilationist) as well as supernatural. Perhaps this can happen. Perchance to dream.
Sincerely,
Michael
Read their columns in the Chicago Sun-times here via the following links:
Wright caught in undeserved political glare by Mary Mitchell
What's wrong with a great speech anyway? by Richard Roeper
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Living and Breathing Out Loud, and not Just Blowing Smoke
I am currently reading what I believe to be an awesome, "memoiresque" book written by Donald Miller called Blue Like Jazz. In the book, Miller shares his life experiences in his personal walk with Jesus Christ through writing that seems to be down to earth and genuine. As I am reading this book and identifying with many of his own experiences as a Christian, I am burdened with the question: how should my living out what I believe about Jesus really look like and am I passionately doing that? Here is an excerpt from the book that we should give thought to:
"A friend of mine, a young pastor who recently started a church, talks to me from time to time about the new face of church in America - about the postmodern church. He says the new church will be different from the old one, that we will be relevant to culture and the human struggle. I don't think any church has ever been relevant to culture, to the human struggle, unless it believed in Jesus and the power of His gospel. If the supposed new church believes in trendy music and cool Web pages, then it is not relevant to culture either. It is just another tool of Satan to get people to be passionate about nothing" (111).
If we are personally living out loud what we believe about Jesus, living out loud biblical Christianity, then shouldn't the outflow of this Chrisitianiy impact our "broken" communities through the work of our local churches? What should this really look like?
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