JESUS

Please tell me why God allowed over 6000 innocent people to be murdered on September 11, 2001?

Answer?

I don’t know.

Where was God?

I don’t know.

When Leslie Weatherhead, a minister in London during the Second World War, was asked by a member in his congregation where God was when his son was killed in a bombing raid, Weatherhead replied, »I guess he was where he was when his son was killed.«

And where was that?

I don’t know.

Isn’t »I don’t know« too ambiguous? Isn’t »I don’t know« an unconvincing way to convince young people Christianity is true?

Actually, »I don’t know« confirms one critical truth about Christianity…it’s a mystery!

Jesus loves us, right?

Of course.

So if he loves us, he protects us, right?

If he loves us…he is with us.

Jesus can heal, can’t he? And perform miracles?

Of course. Just not very often.

Why?

I don’t know.

What about God’s will?

My youth director says we’re supposed to seek God’s will. There are lots of verses in the Bible that tell us to do God’s will, aren’t there? God does have a will, right?

Absolutely.

Trouble is God’s will is not like a to-do list. It’s more like an undecipherable code. The Bible definitely gives us some clues about the code of God’s will, which means we can figure out part of it; but, because it’s God, we will never crack the code.

Clues?

Yeah, like, follow me, serve me, love me, live by my commandments, point people to me.

That’s it? Just follow me, serve me, love me and trust me?

That’s about it.

What do you mean »that’s about it?«

You don’t want to know.

Yes I do.

We get a cross.

Cross????? What does that mean?

I don’t know.

But God does heal people, doesn’t he?

Certainly.

And miracles do happen, don’t they.

Right.

So we can count on God helping us, can’t we?

We can count on God being God.

Which means…??

I don’t know.

And what does that mean?

It means we can trust God if we lost someone in the WTC or if they survived.

It means we can trust God when we have cancer and when we’re healed.

We can trust God if we survive a natural disaster or if we don’t.

We can trust God when we get a glimpse of Divine will and when we don’t.

We can trust God in the answers and the questions, in the good and the bad, in the light and the dark, when we’re winning and when we’re losing.

We can trust God even when the Truth doesn’t answer all our questions or leaves us with even more questions.

And, most importantly, just beyond our »I don’t know’s,« Jesus is waiting with open arms to snuggle us in the mystery of his love.

What characterizes Christianity in the modern world is its odd-ness. Christianity is home for people who are out of step, unfashionable, unconventional and counter-cultural. As Peter says, »strangers and aliens.«

I pastor the slowest growing church in America. We started twelve years ago with 90 members and have un-grown to 30. We’re about as far as you can get from a »user friendly« church—not because our congregation is unfriendly, but because our services are unpredictable, unpolished and inconsistent.

We’re an »odd-friendly« church, attracting unique and different followers of Christ who make every service a surprise. We refuse to edit oddness and incompetence from our services. We believe our oddness matters. We want our service filled with mistakes and surprises, because life is full of mistakes and surprises.

One Sunday morning, during the time for prayer requests, a member began describing the critical illness of her father. Because she was close to her father, her request for prayer was frequently interrupted by tears. Those around her reached out a hand or nodded with sadness. Some found their eyes filling with tears as well. The woman finished her request as best as she could.

Seated in the front row was Sadie—a young woman with Down’s syndrome. Sadie stood and walked up the aisle until she saw the woman in the middle of her row. Stepping over the feet of other people in the aisle, Sadie reached the woman, bent down on her knees, laid her head on the woman’s lap, and cried with her.

Sadie »inconvenienced« an entire row of people, stepped on their shoes, and forced them to make room for her … but none of us will ever forget that moment. Sadie is still teaching the rest of us what the odd compassion of Christ’s church looks like.

Someone said »you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you odd.« Whoever made that statement understood what it means to be a follower of Christ. Followers of Christ are odd. Oddness is important because it’s the quality that adds color, texture, variety, and beauty to the human condition. Christ doesn’t make us the same. What He does is affirm our differentness.

Oddness is important because the most dangerous word in Western culture is »sameness.« Sameness is a virus that infects members of industrialized nations and causes an allergic reaction to anyone who’s different. This virus affects the decision-making part of our brain, resulting in an obsession with making the identical choices that everyone else is making.

Sameness is a disease with disastrous consequences—differences are ignored, uniqueness is not listened to, our gifts are cancelled out, and the place where life, passion, and joy reside are snuffed out.

Sameness is the result of sin. Sin does much more than infect us with lust and greed; it flattens the human race, franchises us, attempts to make us all homogenous. Sameness is the cemetery where our distinctiveness dies. In a sea of sameness, no one has an identity.

But Christians do have an identity. Aliens! We’re the odd ones, the strange ones, the misfits, the outsiders, the incompatibles. Oddness is a gift of God that sits dormant until God’s spirit gives it life and shape. Oddness is the consequence of following the One who made us unique, different … and in His image!

The tragedy of modern faith is that we no longer are capable of being terrified. We aren’t afraid of God, we aren’t afraid of Jesus, we aren’t afraid of the Holy Spirit. As a result, we have ended up with a need-centered gospel that attracts thousands...but transforms no one.

What happened to the bone-chilling, earth-shattering, gut-wrenching, knee-knocking, heart-stopping, life-changing fear that left us speechless, paralyzed, and helpless? What happened to those moments when you and I would open our Bibles and our hands started shaking because we were afraid of the Truth we might find there? Barclay tells us that the word used in the Bible for »Truth« has three meanings—a word used to describe a wrestler grabbing an opponent by the throat; a word meaning to flay an animal; and a word used to describe the humiliation of a criminal who was paraded in front of a crowd with a dagger tied to his neck, its point under his chin so he could not put his head down. That is what the Truth is really like! It grabs us by the throat, it flays us wide open, it forces us to look into the face of God. When is the last time you and I heard God’s Truth and were grabbed by the throat?

Unfortunately, those of us who have been entrusted with the terrifying, frightening, Good News have become obsessed with making Christianity safe. We have defanged the tiger of Truth. We have tamed the Lion, and now Christianity is so sensible, so accepted, so palatable.

Who is afraid of God anymore?

We are afraid of unemployment, we are afraid of our cities, we are afraid of the collapse of our government, we are afraid of not being fulfilled, we are afraid of AIDS, but we are not afraid of God.

I would like to suggest that the Church become a place of terror again; a place where God continually has to tell us, »Fear not«; a place where our relationship with God is not a simple belief or doctrine or theology, it is God’s burning presence in our lives. I am suggesting that the tame God of relevance be replaced by the God whose very presence shatters our egos into dust, burns our sin into ashes, and strips us naked to reveal the real person within. The Church needs to become a gloriously dangerous place where nothing is safe in God’s presence except us. Nothing—including our plans, our agendas, our priorities, our politics, our money, our security, our comfort, our possessions, our needs.

The two men on the road to Emmaus knew they had been with Jesus because their »hearts burned from within.« The impotence of today’s Church, the weakness of Christ’s followers, and the irrelevance of most parachurch organizations is directly related to the lack of being in the presence of an awesome, holy God, who continually demands allegiance only to Him—not to our churches, our organizations, or our theology.

We believe in a God who wants all of us—every bit of us—and He wants us all the time. He wants our worship and our love, but most of all He wants us to trust Him. We have to be more in awe of God than we are of our government, more in awe of God than we are of our problems, more in awe of God than we are of our beliefs about abortion, more in awe of God than we are of our doctrines and agendas. Our God is perfectly capable of calming the storm or putting us into the middle of one. Either way, if it’s God, we will be speechless and trembling.

Our world is tired of people whose God is tame. It is longing to see people whose God is big and holy and frightening and gentle and tender...and ours; a God whose love frightens us into His strong and powerful arms where He longs to whisper those terrifying words, »I love you.«

Do you have any friends? Really close friends? Friends for life?

I came to a startling revelation a few months ago. I don’t have any friends. I don’t. I have a lot of acquaintances but, other than my wife, I really have no close friends.

I’ve had some friends in the past, but not many. Eventually something happened—nothing sinister, just something—like moving, having a baby, changing jobs, building a home, going back to school, changing churches; nothing bad or wrong, just something that happened and, the next thing I knew, another friendship slowly eroded.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are half a dozen guys who I consider to be close, caring people and who I always look forward to being with. They are people with whom, on occasion, I have shared my guts...and I would again. They are people who know how to have fun, who accept me as I am—no pretense, no persona to maintain—just simple, meaningful relationships.

But a close friend? Nope. Not one.

You are probably wondering why. I have been wondering why for a long time. After some very painful soul-searching, I think I have discovered the reasons.

I am too busy. I am gone too much, travel too much, speak too much, and work too much. I have done an excellent job of convincing the people around me that I am too busy—too busy doing the very important work that I am doing—to have any time for friendships. In other words, I have »snowed« everyone around me. I have convinced them to buy into the myth of my busy-ness to such a degree that the possibility of my being their friend (or them being mine) never enters their mind. That’s what people like me do. We hide behind the walls of our busy-ness so that we don’t have to worry about anyone wanting to be our friend. You see, people don’t want to impose. They don’t want to rob my wife and me of the very few moments we have together, so they enable us by staying away from us so that we can be even busier.

This week I am speaking in England, next week New York, the week after that Hawaii, then Australia, then Dallas, then Vancouver. And then I come home for a few days...exhausted, jet lagged, useless to everyone around me while my body and mind adjust to the new and unfamiliar surroundings—my home. I spend a day with my wife and kids getting reacquainted, and all the while I’m anxious to get to the phone messages and correspondence that have fallen way behind. I’m home, but I’m not home. I am present, but I am not really present. And then one morning I wake up and realize that I am alone. Very alone. I realize I need to do something about all of this, then I race to catch the plane for my next trip and vow to change when I get home. But I never do.

When will it occur to those of us who are in the ministry, who are in the public eye, that we cannot keep doing this? We cannot keep hiding behind our busy schedules. We cannot keep acting like we have no choice because without us the world will fall apart.

Instead of the world falling apart, we fall apart...or our families, or our kids, or our congregations fall apart.

I’ll never forget a statement Janis Joplin once made after a big concert: »I’ve just made love to 25,000 people and I’m going home alone.«

Let me speak as bluntly as I possibly can to all of us, including myself: If we are too busy to have friends, we are much too busy. If we are too busy to have time for our families, kids, or neighbors, we are much too busy. Most of us in the ministry are lone rangers, isolated from everyone, separated by our »fame« and our giftedness. We have surrounded ourselves with employees whose job is to keep the peons away from us. No wonder so many ministers crack up. No wonder so many ministers end up having affairs, or end up using their churches as a place to pad their pocketbooks and/or build monuments to themselves.

Friendship is not an option for Christians.

Jesus’ disciples were friends, not groupies...even Judas.

Let’s get real. Let’s quit being so busy. Take a sabbatical. Take the time required to build the kind of friendships that will last. After all, that’s what Jesus did. He wasn’t so busy that He didn’t take time to make friends first, then disciples. He only had three years. Isn’t that one of the great parts of the Good News? The God of the Universe—Who should be fairly busy Himself—wants to be our friend.

Instead of building a ministry to thousands, maybe we ought to build a friendship with one. Instead of speaking 200 times a year, maybe we ought to listen to our children and our spouse. Maybe we should be known not for how many converts we make or radio stations we acquire or crusades we hold. Maybe we should be known as someone who knows how to have friends.

I have decided to make some friends.

It will mean I have to stay home. It will mean I have to spend time with someone doing absolutely nothing. It will mean I have to work at something that is not easy for me. But I am not worried. My friend Jesus is willing to help.

Please tell me why God allowed over 6000 innocent people to be murdered on September 11, 2001?

Answer?

I don’t know.

Where was God?

I don’t know.

When Leslie Weatherhead, a minister in London during the Second World War, was asked by a member in his congregation where God was when his son was killed in a bombing raid, Weatherhead replied, »I guess he was where he was when his son was killed.«

And where was that?

I don’t know.

Isn’t »I don’t know« too ambiguous? Isn’t »I don’t know« an unconvincing way to convince young people Christianity is true?

Actually, »I don’t know« confirms one critical truth about Christianity…it’s a mystery!

Jesus loves us, right?

Of course.

So if he loves us, he protects us, right?

If he loves us…he is with us.

Jesus can heal, can’t he? And perform miracles?

Of course. Just not very often.

Why?

I don’t know.

What about God’s will?

My youth director says we’re supposed to seek God’s will. There are lots of verses in the Bible that tell us to do God’s will, aren’t there? God does have a will, right?

Absolutely.

Trouble is God’s will is not like a to-do list. It’s more like an undecipherable code. The Bible definitely gives us some clues about the code of God’s will, which means we can figure out part of it; but, because it’s God, we will never crack the code.

Clues?

Yeah, like, follow me, serve me, love me, live by my commandments, point people to me.

That’s it? Just follow me, serve me, love me and trust me?

That’s about it.

What do you mean »that’s about it?«

You don’t want to know.

Yes I do.

We get a cross.

Cross????? What does that mean?

I don’t know.

But God does heal people, doesn’t he?

Certainly.

And miracles do happen, don’t they.

Right.

So we can count on God helping us, can’t we?

We can count on God being God.

Which means…??

I don’t know.

And what does that mean?

It means we can trust God if we lost someone in the WTC or if they survived.

It means we can trust God when we have cancer and when we’re healed.

We can trust God if we survive a natural disaster or if we don’t.

We can trust God when we get a glimpse of Divine will and when we don’t.

We can trust God in the answers and the questions, in the good and the bad, in the light and the dark, when we’re winning and when we’re losing.

We can trust God even when the Truth doesn’t answer all our questions or leaves us with even more questions.

And, most importantly, just beyond our »I don’t know’s,« Jesus is waiting with open arms to snuggle us in the mystery of his love.

Jesus Himself claimed to be God and others recognized Him as Deity. He said, »I and the Father are one.« (John 10:30) The Greek language, in which the New Testament was originally written, is explicit. Literally, Jesus said, »I and the Father, we are one.« Jesus also claimed that He was the only way to God: »I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but through Me.« (John 14:6) Again, the Greek language is very clear. Jesus used the words ‘the way’ and not ‘a way’.

The question is, can we accept as true what Jesus [God the Son], claimed? The most conclusive evidence establishing the deity of Christ is the historically verifiable resurrection. The apostle Paul wrote that Jesus »was declared with power to be the Son of God by the resurrection from the dead.« (Romans 1:4) If the resurrection of Christ is true, then it is possible and, indeed, logical to believe all His claims and miracles including His assertion of the complete validity of the Old Testament. They would be what one would expect from God.

The primary reason that Jesus is the only way to God is that He forgives sin and offers eternal life, (John 10:28) something that the founder of no other major religion has claimed to do. Think about that!

Every person is separated from a perfect, holy God by sin. According to God’s requirement, either the individual must pay the penalty for sin – death – or he must find someone who is willing and able – who has no sin – to pay the penalty for him. (Hebrews 9:14, 22) Jesus Christ was both able and willing to do this, as demonstrated by His death on the cross. That is why Jesus is the only way to God.