Maybe Our Freedoms Aren't Quite What We Think They Are?

The whole entire book of Colossians is blowing up my life.

The explosion is a long time coming, because back in the First and Second books of Peter (letters he wrote to struggling Christians he knew), I couldn’t walk away from my reading without wrestling with a lot of little niggling things. I read those two short books just last month, so the collateral upheaval is acute as I sit here in February of 2022 in the wake of what isn’t quite yet a wake of a pandemic.

I’m not a Bible teacher, so I won’t be parsing Scripture here. But if you are curious to know where God seems to be lighting a little TNT under the churches Peter and Paul wrote to in the books of 1 & 2 Peter and Colossians, hold onto your hat for a few combustible moments.

Actually, just two:

Peter lays out the Christian’s identity in the second chapter of 1 Peter. He uses words like a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his possession. The meaning of each of those monikers can be broken down and cross-referenced and have been done so by commentators across the centuries. The short version is that when God enters the life of a believer in Christ, that believer becomes his.

He goes on to say, Look—you’re so loved by God and protected by him and secure in his love for you, you don’t need to do all the empty things you were doing to make yourselves feel better about yourselves. The reminder of who the believers are and whose they are should make us religious people relax. He loves us!

And then, Peter drops the bomb.

“Submit to every human authority because of the Lord, whether to the emperor as the supreme authority or to governors as those sent out by him to punish those who do what is evil and to praise those who do what is good. For it is God’s will that you silence the ignorance of foolish people by doing good. Submit as free people, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but as God’s slaves. Honor everyone. Love the brothers and sisters. Fear God. Honor the emperor.”

— 1 Peter 2:13-17

Excuse me, but what?

I picked up my phone and texted an older, wiser friend who actually is a Bible teacher and I asked, “How do we read the second chapter of 1 Peter and demand from our leaders our perceived freedoms? Is it just me, or do we submit to our government, even if we lose our earthly freedoms to do what we want?”

Before I disclose her reply, I want you to know that I wasn’t being pawky when I asked. And in the political climate that has seen mask mandates and protests and freedom convoys, I know I risk losing some of you, too. It’s okay. Maybe you read this passage differently than she and I have. You have that freedom. But here’s her response to me:

“I think we submit. And look like Jesus whatever the cost.”

Can you feel the shrapnel? When Jesus blows up our expectations and bids us to take up our cross to follow him and “look like Jesus whatever the cost”, there’s a lot of shrapnel. It changes us. It makes us look at our lives a little differently. It burrows itself into our broken places but always, always in light of the reminders that we are just what God has called us: His. For his glory and our good.

I’ll come back to the second explosion in 2 Peter next time. Until then, remember whose you are and that he never, ever wastes what we give up to follow him.

Write That Letter You've Been Meaning to Write

My beloved brother died on September 23, just a day after his 58th birthday, after a five-year battle with cancer that was initially spotted growing in his neck and eventually took over his lungs and heart. Of course, my family is still experiencing deep grief. I told a dear older friend just days after his death that I think Jeff was everybody’s favorite, and in her typical quick observational wit, she replied, “Well, now’s your chance!”  

It’s been several months since the morning we said goodbye, but I want to introduce you to my brother. He was a ministry leader for Links Players International, an author, a father of three young men, a devoted husband to one of my best friends, and the kindest brother a girl could have. 

One of my earliest memories is that of curling up on my bed as Jeff sat next to me and read that great novel of American childhood,  Homer Price. It is a kind and loving 13-year-old who will do such a thing for his 6-year-old sister, but that is just the type of young man he was, and just the type of man he continued to be: gentle, patient, full of wry humor.

When I was a gangly and awkward 11-year-old, Jeff drove away to Redlands University for college. His leaving left a significant hole in my heart, and one might assume that a bright, ambitious 18-year-old would have not thought again of that little sister back at home, but he did, in the form of letters. The stack that sits on my desk, tied with an opaque ribbon, is a fraction of the letters he wrote to me from college: first from Redlands, then after his transfer to Biola University. This is the last paragraph of one of my favorites, dated 1984:

“I hope even more that you are learning how powerful God can be in our lives. There are so many times when I just want to be home or at camp, but God gives me the strength to hang in there, and he says, “I need you right where you are, Jeff.” So on I go. I hope to see you soon. I love you a whole lot. But even better, so does God.

Your bro,

Jeff”

We never again lived in the same city, our lives taking us in wildly different directions at times. And there was that seven-year age gap. But always, Jeff was a man of words. We read together, recommended books to each other, and both agreed and disagreed over who wrote best or which stories made the greatest impact on the world.

Often, I would post at midnight an article I'd written only to awake the next morning to a text from Jeff in which he corrected my grammar or pointed out a typo. He was my editor, but he was never my critic. His words to me were pleasant like a honeycomb: sweetness to the soul and health to the body. 

In my Bible study lesson this week, the opening question was posed, “If you knew that your time on earth was rapidly coming to an end, what message would you want to impart to those you love?” 

As the recipient of words that were foundational in the formation of my young faith, I humbly ask the same question: Who in your world needs to hear the life-giving words of the simple gospel of Jesus Christ? Who needs to hear, “I love you a whole lot. But even better, so does God”?

Jeff officiating at his son Reese’s wedding, May 2021

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When the Church Can't Meet Your Needs

Let’s not talk about what a difficult year this has been. Instead, let’s recall how difficult life and choices often were before we hit pandemics and political issues. Our trials and challenges serve to amplify our discomfort and can be an impetus for personal change, and in that way, both the pandemic and the politics have been useful.

What if the church no longer meets your needs? For many Christians in America, this is a valid and timely question. You and I both know the variables that lead to believing the church can’t be what it needs to be anymore, so, in order to shed light on a path forward, I’ve identified four points on which to reflect.

Reflections for When the Church Can’t Meet Your Needs

1. Identify your needs.

   Are your perceived needs something that are truly needed for spiritual growth, health, clarity, or rest?

   It is an auspicious practice to identify and clarify what our actual needs may be. Keep in mind that what you may need in this season is potentially not a necessity for your spouse, children, or others with whom you are in a close relationship. If 30 years of marriage have taught me anything, it’s that my needs are rarely in sync with those in my close circle and that sometimes I extend myself for them and at other times, they have extended themselves for me.

2. Ask yourself honest questions.

   Are my perceived needs really just preferences or desires? For example, a basic human need is readily accessible and healthy food, while a preference or desire is grilled chicken and a chocolate shake.

   Can these needs be met by the people in your life? The people in your church? Our deep inner needs aren't met by people. God often uses people as a conduit to providing what we need, but people are not the ultimate provisioner. Are we expecting people to do what only God can?

   The truth is, Jesus Christ is the place to start. The gospel meets the felt need. God himself ultimately satisfies the longing. If we’re just missing what we have always had in our western churches (i.e., cultural church paradigms as opposed to worship however God provides it for us), then we’re really longing for grilled chicken and chocolate shakes, not readily accessible and healthy food.

3. Provide yourself with honest answers.

   So, of course, it follows that if I'm looking to my church to meet my needs, I will not get the answers to my questions. If I'm expecting Jesus to meet my needs instead, I will find a path to deep, lasting change and fulfillment. That line of thinking leads to perhaps a more complex conundrum with which we must wrestle: Do I believe that “my God shall supply all my needs according to his riches in glory?”

   The Philippian church was encouraged to understand that their way of doing church wasn’t the answer, their church people weren’t the answer, their orthodoxy, orthopraxy, and theology weren’t the answer. Only God—God alone—would meet their needs. Certainly, Paul knew this personally as he wrote his letter to that church from a prison cell.

4. Be pliable.

   What if God means to meet our needs in ways we never could have anticipated?

   If you've been a follower of Jesus Christ for any amount of significant time, you might assume I'm being ironic. Because it's true, isn't it? Just remove the question mark: God means to meet our needs in ways we never could have anticipated. And then go ask anyone who has ever had to “do church” in a way that doesn’t look like America.

   Pliability as it relates to church choices and life may mean you’re being led away from what you’ve always known to be church. And what if that change means you are about to find out what the fullness of following Jesus really looks like?

My story of church life and culture may be different from yours in setting, characters, arc, and plot. I did the math recently and realized that the church I’ve been a part of for the past decade is the 17th church I’ve been involved in over the course of my life. 17th! That exposure to many different church norms might be very different from your experience.

Still, there is some reason you have had to drop your expectations for church, and it can no longer meet your needs at this time. Christian, this is more than okay. It is acceptable and right and may be exactly what God has for you in this moment. Can you identify your real need and allow God to do his work?

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