The Greatest Lesson

Well, we’ve come to the end of 42 Days. Both our six-week North Point men’s study, as well as my 42 days of re-posting some of the things I written through the years.

It’s been kind of cool to look back and see what I was thinking over the past 17 years. I found myself being transported back into old joys and old pain that were both a little unexpected… sometimes wishing I could go back and relive the experiences because they were so good…and sometimes trying to ignore the old wounds that were reopened. Memory is such a funny thing.

So here’s my last post in this series. It’s probably the shortest. It’s also the one, more than any other one, that I hope you believe.

42 of 42.

There was a time when I was a little younger that I offered advice on parenting more freely than I do these days.   Now that I’m completely on the back side of being a parent, it’s pretty easy to look back and see how much I didn’t know…and how far short I fell of being the kind of dad I wanted, and needed, to be.

(It’s possible my boys might see me a little differently than I see myself, because they would have a tough time seeing what I see and knowing what I know about myself…)

When my boys were young and really short, I wrote down goals for them…things I hoped they would learn, believe and become.  I also had (and still have) goals for me as a dad, a husband, a pastor, a friend, and a follower of Christ.  I still have those three sheets of paper (remember paper?) with the handwritten goals that have always meant everything to me.

If anybody is ever interested in what I’ve learned as a dad, I’m always willing to pass on what I know.  But anymore, I usually wait until people ask, rather than dishing out unsolicited wisdom.  Honestly, you gotta want it, if it’s going to do any good.

However, I thought I’d pass on the best piece of parenting advice I know…whether you want to know it or not:

BE THE PERSON YOU WANT YOUR KIDS TO BECOME.

It’s both that simple and that difficult.  Expecting them to become something you’re not is hypocritical, unfair, and destined to fail. Kids are experts at sniffing out fake.

You have no guarantee of how your kids are going to turn out, no matter what the experts say.   When they are young, your influence is great.  As they grow into their teenage and college years, your words will not carry as much weight as they did in the early days…but your example will always be speaking.

Take care of yourself.  Be the man or woman who God is calling you to be.  Give your kids a consistent picture of what you hope they will become. No matter how old you or your kids are.

I promise you it will matter.

That, I know.

Music. Part 2.

41 of 42.

I have memories of sitting in the living room of my home in 1964 (I was ten years old), watching the Beatles sing “I Want To Hold Your Hand” before a live audience on the Ed Sullivan Show.  The shadowy black and white television introduced these long-haired young rock and rollers to mainstream America…and nothing has ever been the same since.

My parents were in shock.  Musical shock wasn’t new to them, though.  Elvis Presley’s gyrating pelvis had already been doing that for a few years.  The church I grew up in, much like the conservative white church around the country, was working hard to make sure I knew all the things I couldn’t do, if I was going to grow up to be a fine Christian young man.

Good Christians didn’t drink, smoke, cuss, play cards, dance, go to movies, stay out late on Saturday nights, sleep in on Sundays, sport long hair (boys), sport short skirts (girls), question authority…and absolutely no listening to that evil devil-music: rock and roll.

Even though I don’t think they really realized it at the time, parents and church leaders were creating an “us vs. them” mentality.  More importantly to me, they were building a sacred vs. secular philosophy into my life…one I learned to respectfully rebel against in my high school and college years.

(If you ask my wife, she will gladly tell you that since I never had a typical adolescent rebellion back when I was a teenager, I have been going through an extended and particularly awkward post-adolescent rebellion ever since I hit around 50.  Maybe I will self-analyze that mess in another post someday.)

In the early years, when my favorite bands would sing about sex and drugs and anarchy and who knows what else, I would pompously tell my church friends and leaders, “I’m not listening to the lyrics.  I’m just listening to the music.”  The truth is, I knew what they were singing about, but it didn’t matter to my young, respectfully rebellious heart.  The music was touching me on a deep, personal level.

I know they were afraid the music was going to lead me into the darkness inhabited by Satan and his minions.  But I never had that concern.  To me, music was art.  It was the creative expression of the musician.  Look, based on the lyrics and perceived lifestyles, I’m pretty sure most of the bands I was drawn to were not “christian”.  But they were making art that I was blown away by.  Their imagination and innovation drew me in.

When I first understood basic principles of music well enough to recognize that Led Zepellin was playing in these bizarre time signatures, my head exploded and I was hooked.  I always have been.  But it wasn’t until I got older that I was able to give definition to what I was feeling.

When I first looked at a black and white Ansel Adams photograph of Yosemite Falls, I didn’t stop and think, “Gee, I wonder if Ansel is a Christian?  If he’s not, I need to be careful when I look at his pictures, lest I fall.”.  Nope.  I look at his pictures and simply say, “Wow.  Those are amazing.  I feel like I am right there.”

Most people know I’m not much of a connoisseur of movies.  But there are some actors who I really enjoy.  Morgan Freeman.  Matthew McConaughey.  Sandra Bullock.  Honestly, as I watch them perform, I’m not thinking much about their standing before God.  I’m usually just enjoying their art.

I don’t cheer for my favorite athletes because they are christian.  I cheer for them because I’m caught up with their performance.  And whether or not they are helping my team win.  Athleticism is artistry of the human body.  I love watching them.  Christian.  Buddhist.  Muslim.  Atheist.  Hedonist.  It just doesn’t ever really factor into my enjoyment.

(Before you get preachy back at me, I believe there should be common sense limitations on the first amendment.  There are amazing artists of all types, that are criminals whose values and lifestyle seriously affect my enjoyment of their art.  Open hostility and disregard for the things of God will always leave pain in my heart, no matter how great the artistry.  There are some lines I simply don’t cross.)

So, because I see music as art and I have experienced it, both as a listener and as a musician, my love and appreciation for the beauty of musical expression is pretty broad.  And pretty tolerant. I’m also grateful there are now a lot of bands whose members are Christians and who play quality new music for the ears and hearts of youth group kids.

You like the Cowboys.  I like the Chargers.  You like Leonardo DiCaprio.  I like Sylvester Stallone.  You like country or pop or classic rock.  Me?  Old school rap metal rocks my world.

Don’t knock it till you try it.

Music. Part 1.

40 of 42.

This week, I heard one of my favorite bands was coming to Dallas for the first time in a while (thanks, Chris M.).  Although I have listened to P.O.D. for years, I have never heard them in person.  To be honest, it’s a bucket list item for me.  And even though I would look seriously out of place in the crowd, I was excited by the possibility of seeing them this fall.

But my excitement turned into a major bummer, when I saw who else was playing with them.  Even though Insane Clown Posse is not my musical cup of tea, I wouldn’t mind seeing them.  But from what I’ve read about and seen online, the craziness of their concerts and the unruliness of their hardcore hip-hop fans are enough for me to stay home and watch Sunday Night Football from my recliner on that night in October.

Like I said.  Bummer.  But it got me thinking tonight before I head off to bed.

I used to really, really dislike country music.  Twenty years in Texas have softened me.  Now, there are days I choose to listen to Brad Paisley, the Zac Brown Band, and even some Willie Nelson.  Whoa.  Not to mention my deepened love and appreciation for the greatness of Southern rock, the likes of ZZ Top, Lynryd Skynyrd, the Allman Brothers, and the Marshall Tucker Band.

In my early teenage years, like many kids in the 60’s, I was mesmerized by rock and roll.  I played bass in a garage band for the first time when I was 13.  I can’t remember the name of the band, but we played a mean “13 year-old” cover of White Rabbit, by the Jefferson Airplane.  Listening to the three-record, live album from Woodstock in 1969 changed my life.

I was a jazz musician in high school and my early college years.  My trumpet hero was Miles Davis Jr.  My love of horns and my love of rock and roll was given a whole new perspective with bands like Chicago, Blood Sweat and Tears, and the Sons of Champlin.

Because I was really a wannabe hippie in the early 70’s (I didn’t do the sex and drugs…only the rock and roll part), my life as a follower of Jesus was still able to grow.  The early years of “Christian” rock was super important to me, especially as a young youth minister.  Thank you, Larry Norman.

Somehow, I lived through the cassette-burning, Satan-influenced, backmasking phase of the church with my love of Led Zeppelin, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Queen, The Who and loads of others, completely intact.

Youth ministry in the 80’s forged a whole new direction in my musical taste, because of a little-known band from Ireland.  Although I still loved Van Halen and Metallica, U2 changed everything for music-loving, church kids in Southern California.  For me, also.  My musical tastes broadened as I identified more and more with the music kids were listening to.  It became “my” music, also.

I grew to love all of it.  Classic rock, hair-band metal, hard-core, punk, ska, Seattle, college and indie rock…it was all good to my ears.  And all the while retaining my love of classical and jazz.  Go figure.  And it’s never ended.

When Aerosmith collaborated with Run DMC on “Walk this Way” in 1986, little did I know I was listening to what would become my favorite style of music.  When we moved our little family from the surf community of Huntington Beach in 1990 to the urban turf of East San Diego, the door to rap and hip hop was busted down.

Maybe it was my close association with kids and families we shared life with (in our community and our church plant) or just my openness to listening to all kinds of music.  Either way, I spent the next five years deep in the world of urban music.  I am still blown away by the flow and artistry of rappers like Eminem, Dr. Dre, and Jay-Z.

But it was the merger of rap and rock that won me over.  Beastie Boys.  Rage Against the Machine.  Faith No More.  Early Kid Rock.  Linkin Park.  Thousand Foot Krutch.  P.O.D.  Project 86.  So many more.  The music is harsh and always aggressive.  Loud and driving.  Lyrically moving.  Definitely my favorite.  My playlist is never without this style.

Enough history for now.

But there’s more to this story.

Way more.

Ok. That was not expected.

39 of 42.

I went to bed last night with righteous indignation.

I thought.

My stomach was sick. I couldn’t control my thinking. My mind was pinballing all over the inside of my skull as I played and replayed the events of our days…and the dissonance of the cultural commentary (both verbally and in action) that often accompanies those who carry the image of Christ in their hearts.

It just seems like the task of being God’s ambassadors of peace and healing in an obviously hurting and broken world, continues to be made more difficult by some, even many, claiming to be His people.

They just sound and act so different from how I think Jesus would be, if he were here, in person.

As a matter of fact, one of my deepest frustrations comes from knowing that, according to his promises, he IS here. In person. In the hearts and minds of each of his own. Yeesh.

Why’s he not doing a better job?

Anyway, fueled with my morally and spiritually superior attitude, and determined to wake up this morning and let my keystrokes dole out verbal discipline, in the same manner of Jesus overturning the tables in the temple courtyard, a funny thing happened.

I woke up with the weight of my own miserable failings. Instead of the story of Jesus overturning the tables, my morning music was a different tune. The one where Jesus knelt in the dirt.

You remember it. The story about when the Pharisees (the ones with the morally and spiritually superior attitude) drug the whore into temple courtyard, hoping for Jesus to condemn her the same way they were condemning her.

Talk about turning the tables upside down! After drawing something in the dirt, Jesus spoke words of truth that have moved real disciples to near hyper-ventilation for 2000 years.

“Which ever one of you is without sin, you throw the first stone.”

One by one, each one of the Pharisees (the religious smug) walked away, because at least they had enough self-awareness to know their lives were not without sin. They knew who they were.

Last night, I lost sight of who I am. This morning I remembered.

Pointing out the sins of those who ride righteous high-horses should never be done by one who is also riding a righteous high-horse. I woke up ready to do the very thing I was going to call out others for doing. Whoa. Talk about a contradiction!

I know we are to call out sin. I know we are to be light in darkness. I know we are to warn people of the dangers of the path they are traveling.  But none of us will truly ever be without sin.  All of us are Pharisees of one kind or another.  None of us is “good” enough to pass judgment on another.  And maybe that’s a good thing.

The only way to “cast a stone” (render judgment, throw criticism, project superiority, communicate my way is better than your way, etc…) is by being armed with the awareness that my sin, my weakness, my hypocrisy, my pride, my lack of love, my moral and spiritual superiority, is just as bad as yours.

And that changes everything.  At least it should.

It keeps the playing field level.  It keeps my criticism from ever going overboard.  It keeps my heart from growing hard.  It keeps me from ever thinking I’m better than you.  It keeps humility in the forefront and pride pushed to the rear.  It puts me in a position to be part of the solution, instead of perpetuating another problem.  It communicates grace, love, mercy, and hope…instead of judgment, fear, and exclusion.

It helps tear down walls, instead adding more bricks and more mortar.

Funny.  It’s pretty much impossible to cast stones at Pharisees, without becoming one.

Facing your weaknesses

38 of 42.

What do you do when the things you need to do, are the very things you struggle with the most? 

What do you do when the person you need to be, is clearly not who you are? 

What do you do when you see personal failure lurking right around the corner, and you feel powerless to stop it?

When I was a young dude, I had the privilege of having people in my life who had the wisdom and integrity to point out things in my life I was unable to see…areas of weakness and signs of immaturity that, if left unchecked, could surely shipwreck my marriage, my reputation, and my future career.

So in my mid-twenties, I made a commitment to face those shortcomings head-on.  As I look back on those days, one of the things I am most grateful for was being able to develop a pretty healthy sense of self-awareness.   I know the things I don’t do well.  I know where I am prone to fail.  I know those situations I should steer clear of.

But just because I know those things, doesn’t mean I don’t wander where I don’t belong.   And it affects my personal disciplines.  And my relationships.  And my leadership.  And that wandering then affects my confidence and my emotions and even my energy level.

Like I said, I’m pretty self-aware.

And I’ve learned some things through the years that have helped me deal with my own limitations as a leader, as a counselor, as a friend, and as a husband.

• You’ve gotta have friends you trust, that will be honest with you.  Blind spots will kill you.  Having friends that are close enough to see you as you really are and confident enough to speak the truth to you, even though it’s uncomfortable, is essential.
• Develop thicker skin.  Look…sometimes the truth really hurts.  So does alcohol on a wound.  So does surgery.  So does ten more minutes on the elliptical.  The path to personal health and maturity begins with honesty.  Sometimes brutal honesty.
• Ask for help.  When I was younger, I thought I could do most things by myself.  I actually took pride in being able to say I did something without anybody’s help.  What an idiot.
• Don’t give up the fight.  I am still fighting some of the same battles I’ve had for nearly forty years.  I am a fully-registered, card-carrying rescuer and an enabler.  So sue me.  I’m such a people-oriented leader, finishing a task is always optional.  I am way too trusting.  The list could go on.  But I refuse to give up.  I keep working on these things.
• Don’t be so hard on yourself.  It’s easy to say, “Nobody’s perfect.”  It’s another thing to really believe it.  Most of us have an easier time forgiving others, than we do forgiving ourselves.  Guilt motivation will ultimately destroy the spirit.  Give yourself a break.  There’s only one Messiah.
• Learn something from every failure.  This is pretty elementary, but it’s easy to overlook.  A mistake or failure is not fatal, if we learn from it.  The maturing process is not about eliminating our shortcomings, as much as it is about letting them constantly teach us.

In many ways, I am who I am.  I have had a lifetime of growth.  I am better than when I first started.  But there are ways I am wired that I have not ever been able to completely separate myself from…and I am convinced those shortcomings are the anvil on which God continues to mold me.

This road I travel. #4

37 of 42. Almost finished.

During the 1970’s and 1980’s, the church growth movement was hitting its stride.  For the uninitiated, the CGM was an organized approach of studying the characteristics of churches that were experiencing noticeable numerical growth…and developing principles that any church could adopt and experience similar growth.

Components such as vision, mission, goals, objectives, programming, budget, hiring practices, leadership and the like, became the staple subjects of study.  Surveys and statistical analysis and marketing and development were the cornerstones of the movement.  The pastor role was redefined by the corporate model.  He was no longer the minister.  He was the CEO.

I studied church growth as a discipline.  I have a master’s degree in it, for crying out loud.  Church growth became both the goal and the method.

And somewhere along the line, I stopped buying what was being sold. At least partially.

The science of church growth says if all of these certain components of church life are aligned properly, growth in numbers should, and most likely will, happen.  And when it doesn’t grow, the assumption is the church has violated (knowingly or unknowingly) one or more of the strategic principles of church growth.

Or could it be that God has designed certain churches to remain smaller for a strategic ministry purpose? It’s just a thought.

The truth is, the way we (North Point) operate as a church family probably has some built-in roadblocks to numerical growth…how we act, who we connect with, how we operate, how we govern, how we structure and program, how we budget.  And the majority of how we choose to function as a church is both intentional and a reflection of the personality and character of our family. It just is.

It’s a subjective judgment, but I think most of people who make up our family are drawn to the lack of structure and the absence of hyper-programming…two of the critical principles of church growth.  If we were to adopt a reach as many as possible – as soon as possible mentality of how we do church (and the systems and methods that generally go along with it), in many ways, we would cease to be who we are.

Many of our people simply don’t live out their faith that way.  If we were to make a shift to the style and structure that demands getting bigger in a hurry as a first priority, we would not only have to do things differently, we would need to be different.

(For the record, I will never waver on my belief that a local church, wherever it is located, should work to reach as many people as possible. If there will be a time in the future when every knee will bow to the Lordship of Jesus, we should joyfully and lovingly join in the mission of taking that message to them.)

At this point in our history, our singular focus, as a church family, is not to reach as many as possible as soon as possible.  We believe numerical growth is certainly part of the overall focus or mission of the church, as a whole, but it is not necessarily the exclusive calling or design of our body.

I believe it is absolutely essential for some expressions of the Body of Christ to function at a smaller level, in order to reach those who cannot or will not connect to the style or personality generally associated with something larger.  And this seems to be happening more and more often across the church landscape.

I believe that North Point (and the myriad of other smaller, flexible, stealthy, unencumbered local church families around the world), are, in fact, partners in the greater mission of reaching as many as possible, just as much as the church that intentionally programs to get big quickly.  And the numbers bear this out.

Look, there are things you can do on a jet ski that you simply can’t do on a luxury yacht, no matter how hard you try!

In spite of what all the “leadership experts” say,  growth is impossible to predict. Sometimes it happens despite our failures.  Sometimes it happens when we aren’t looking and planning for it.  Sometimes it doesn’t happen, even though you’ve followed the playbook, down to every detail.  Maybe it’s just my rebellious attitude or the fact I am a natural skeptic, but I’ll probably always believe church growth is more of a mystery than a science.

This road I travel. #3

36 of 42.

Many of the changes I have encountered in my life occurred years ago, when I began to step out of the cocoon of my early church upbringing.  This one, though, is relatively new.

The availability of information has changed everything.

It was gradual, at first.  Radio.  Television.  “Live”entertainment and news reporting put people in the moment. It was censored and edited in the beginning, but over the past couple of decades, it has become increasingly unfiltered…with unlimited availability.

The internet has given a voice to anybody and everybody.  24 hours a day.  An expert is anyone with a keyboard. Somebody’s opinion is just a click away.  Somebody’s perspective is always waiting for you to read it, listen to it, or watch it.

The same medium that can show you how to fix a compressor on a refrigerator or properly hang a kitchen cabinet, can also provide you with instant filth or the non-stop rants of atheists bent on making a mockery of people of faith.

In the 1970’s, about the only place my faith was ever challenged intellectually was at San Diego State University… by my philosophy professors and the campus radicals who stood up in the quad to heckle the open-air street preachers who were proclaiming the message of “turn or burn” every day to the uninterested crowds.

Nowadays, there are hundreds (probably thousands) of websites dedicated to debunking orthodox, biblical faith at our fingertips.  Granted, I probably do more searching of theology, philosophy and social issues than the average joe…but if I am constantly encountering things that challenge my beliefs and cause me to dig really deep to come up with intelligent responses, I can only image there are others with the same struggles.

And many of them are part of a younger generation that seems to be rejecting the life and message of the church in such alarming numbers.

Anybody can post anything on Facebook with authority.  It’s the pulpit for the masses.  No training required.  No education required.  No consequences for plagiarism, bias, or citing sources that haven’t been properly researched.   Facebook “preachers” pontificate their version of the truth (on unlimited subjects) to listening ears with absolute conviction and authoritative certainty.

And people believe it.  And there’s no stopping it.

Watchdog bloggers are everywhere exposing the sins of churches and church leaders.  All of our dirty laundry (toxic leadership, sexual abuse of members, financial mismanagement, manipulative deception, the wack-job fringe, in-fighting, theological wars, crazy authoritarian church discipline, lack of love, harsh judgement…need I go on?) is hanging on the close line for everybody to see.   Things that only the “insiders” knew about are now part of the everyday internet landscape.

I love the accountability.  I hate the exposure.

Forty years ago, the majority of theological minds who were writing books and being published in mainstream religious circles were coming from the conservative, evangelical community.  This has blown up in recent years.  Progressive and liberal voices in the church are being heard loud and clear and they are full of well-articulated theological positions and arguments I NEVER heard when I was younger, even though they were out there.

They just didn’t have the medium.

They do now.

It’s a brave, new world.  Being a follower of Christ in the United States is no longer a privileged position.  What I believe no longer goes unchallenged.  I don’t start from the pole position anymore.

And I’m ok with that.

This road I travel. #2

35 of 42.

Having grown up in a church tradition that believed it had sole possession of the correct interpretation of all the most important passages of the Bible, I realize I was already starting in a pretty big hole.

I was humbly and politely trained by my church leaders to view all other religions, denominations, cults and independent religious groups with at least a skeptical eye…and some with complete disdain.  Early on, I learned to identify the different faith groups in my community by certain distinctives that were simply wrong:

• The Methodists had women pastors.
• The Lutherans could smoke on their church patio.
• The Baptists made you get re-baptized to be a member of their church.
• The Presbyterians sprinkled babies and called it baptism.
• The Samoan Congregational Church across the street didn’t practice communion.
• The Episcopalians used real wine in their communion.
• The Catholics had nuns and their priests couldn’t get married.
• The Church of God in Christ by my house passed around rattlesnakes in their services.
• The Assembly of God folks spoke in tongues.
• The Seventh Day Adventists only met on Saturdays, not Sundays.
• The local AME Church said God wanted everybody to be wealthy.
• The Church of Christ didn’t use musical instruments.
• The Greek Orthodox had crazy looking pictures of old people everywhere.
• The Jesus People had long hair, torn jeans and were always barefoot.

But WE were the right ones.  Seriously.  My church (and others in our non-denominational club) held tightly to the inspiration and inerrancy and infallibility and the absolute authoritative truth of the Bible.  And we based our beliefs…and assumed our doctrinal and ecclesiastical high horse…on the foundation of God’s Word.  At least our understanding of it.

Looking back, the funny thing about this is every one of those faith groups believed (and still do believe) that THEY were right, also.  And each one of the practices and beliefs that make them distinct are based on their understanding and interpretation of the same Bible we all use.

So here’s where I’ve landed after a lifetime of studying the book and following Jesus:

If I were God, I would have made the book a lot easier to understand.  Good, godly, compassionate, gifted, educated Kingdomworkers have spent centuries studying it and arriving at different conclusions about what God is attempting to communicate.   I don’t think this dilemma will be ending anytime soon.

I’ve grown to accept the “humanness” of the Bible.  It was written by humans…from their perspective…reflecting their  journeys…their emotions (see the Psalms)…their flaws…their unique positions in the flow of history and culture.  I believe they wrote exactly what God intended for them to write, but I don’t believe they wrote robotically.

The Bible doesn’t exist in a vacuum.  Humans read it, study it, interpret it, and apply it.  And we don’t study it in a vacuum, either.  We always bring our preconceptions, our biases, our cultural bents, and our personal stories to the study desk.  We cannot avoid our humanity when we come face to face with scripture.  And I think that’s exactly what God intended.

I still believe in absolute truth.  But I don’t think that any of us can know all of it absolutely.  If we could, I’m not sure faith, as we know it, would be necessary.  Sight, experience, evidence and intellect would be all that was necessary.

I believe my position perches me near a slippery slope.  But I like it here.  I no longer speak, think or act with an attitude of spiritual superiority that comes with believing my interpretation of the Bible is inerrant or infallible.

I am almost always willing to rethink what I have come to believe and entertain that I might be wrong, if posed with credible, humble and thoughtful opposition.  I still believe there is a list of essentials one must affirm to be in right standing with God, but that list is waaaay smaller than it used to be.  I believe this to be the way of grace.

I had a friend say this to me recently and it’s pretty profound:  “In my opinion, God brings us closer to him through study, not interpretation.”

Enough said.  It’s time to study.

This road I travel…

34 of 42. Only seven more.

Now that I’m back from traveling, it’s time to get busy with this new series on changes I’ve experienced in my life that I said I was going to start.

In my younger days, I was taught in both the classroom and through modeling, that following Jesus was pretty much a black and white proposition.  I was told to believe the Bible.  I was taught the Bible was to be my only rule of faith and practice.  I grew up believing the Bible contained the answer to every important life question.

I held on to the notion that the Bible didn’t just contain truth, but that it shared equal stage with Jesus.  When he claimed to be the way, the truth and the life, it was just assumed the words “Jesus” and “the Bible” were pretty much synonymous.

The Bible was the tangible presence of Jesus in the world.  Jesus = truth.  Bible = truth.  My religious heritage taught this phrase:  The Bible says it.  I believe it.  That settles it.  But the older I got, the more I began to see a different picture.  A fuzzier picture.  A more complicated picture.

What I failed to realize in my youth is now something I see clearly.  Whenever a Bible teacher (minister, seminary professor, author, Sunday school teacher, Bible study leader, whatever…) actually teaches the Bible, they are giving their version of the truth.  Their opinion.  Their commentary.  Their spin.  Their bent.  Every time.  All the time.

They might be reflecting their parent’s opinion…or their former preacher’s opinion…or the opinion of the latest theological book or blog they have just read…or the party line of their denomination…or the seminary professor’s insights they gleaned from a few years of sitting at their feet…or years and years of personal study and reflection.

No matter.  Any way you cut it, it’s still personal insight and interpretation.  And ever since the day the Bible began to be mass-produced and put in the hands of people, we have been free to read it and come to our own conclusions.

Does that make everybody’s opinion equally valid?  Of course not.  Should we go with majority rule?  Does any one denomination, theological tradition, or religious heritage have a corner on the truth?  Of course!  Mine does.

I bet you didn’t know I had a better hotline to God than you do?  Yeah.  Right.

Is there really only one “right” interpretation of every passage and teaching in the Bible?  Maybe.  But we will never know which one that is until we meet the truth…er, Jesus…face to face.

I know this creates some sticky questions and the ground I walk on sometimes feels like thin ice.  I’m well aware of all the things I’m sayingwhen I declare my allegiance to a shade of gray, rather than boldly and defiantly demanding my own way and my own interpretation of God’s revealed word be bowed to.

But things have changed for me.  My love for God’s word remains the same.  My commitment to studying it and teaching it the best I can is deeper than it’s ever been.  But I no longer worship a book.

The Bible I possess is not perfect.  Only Jesus is.

A matter of influence

33 of 42. We are down to the final ten of 42 days of reposted blog posts. I hope they’ve been good for you. This one is short, but definitely one of my favorites.

We don’t form our positions on important issues independently.  We don’t come to our opinions in a vacuum.

We just don’t.

Oh, we can determine our favorite food or who we think is the best lead guitar player of all-time or even our take on the top movie of the year.  Those are arrived at subjectively and, in the big picture, aren’t really all that important.  Sorry.

I’m talking about something altogether different.

Take politics.  You don’t just sit in your recliner and manufacture your opinions on issues like immigration reform or affordable health care or the national budget.  If you’re smart, you research.  You study.  You listen.  You fact check.  But to do that, you have to rely on sources of input to inform you and educate you.

And there’s the struggle.  You have to determine which source of information is worthy of your trust.  Which news channel?  Which talking head? Which politician? Which blogger? Which social scientist?  Which website? Which publications?  Which family member?

Whose “truth” is more reliable?  Whose opinion do you give the most weight?

Take matters of health care.  You don’t just daydream yourself into opinions on vaccinations.  On alternative medicines.  On weight loss plans.  On childbirth alternatives. On heart care.  On physician and hospital choices.  If you’re smart, you research.  Just like you should on politics.

And at some point, you may say “no” to conventional methods and traditional approaches to medicine.  And you will do that because you have chosen a source of truth to trust, over and above others.  You may choose a friend or family member’s opinion over a medical doctor…or an internet source over a face-to-face professional consultation.

No matter what, you have allowed yourself to be influenced by someone or something.

Or take matters of spirituality and theology.  You don’t simply develop your personal belief system by locking yourself in a closet and reading the Bible.  Or at least you shouldn’t.  The Bible is a complex piece of literature that demands the best of scholarship to understand. And there are hundreds and hundreds of years of interpretation at our fingertips.

Which books are you reading?  Which teachers are you listening to? Which commentaries carry more weight?  Whose interpretations do you deem more “right”?  Whose opinions are shaping what you believe?

In life, it’s not a matter of whether or not you will be influenced.  It is a matter of who you are letting influence you.  Who are you giving access to your decision-making process?  Who are you allowing to define “truth” for you?

I’m pretty convinced our research of sources is just as important as our research of the information.  The source of “truth” is as important as the truth itself.