The theme this year revolves around “the fellowship of the gospel” in the context of “life together” in the local church.

Happy reading!

As I listened to these words—from my Platoon Sergeant to her soldiers—I longed for them to be the words and the heart found in our churches. Alas, that it’s so rare.

Let’s commit ourselves altogether again to “walk in a manner worthy of [fitting, proper, of comparable value to] the calling” to which we’ve been called (Ephesians 4.1).

“The culmination of all things is near. So be self-controlled and sober-minded for the sake of prayer.

Above all keep your love for one another fervent, because

love covers a multitude of sins.

Show hospitality to one another without complaining. Just as each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of the varied grace of God. Whoever speaks, let it be with God’s words. Whoever serves, do so with the strength that God supplies, so that in everything God will be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen” (1 Peter 4.7-11, NET).

He concluded with this troubling illustration: “Yesterday I received in the mail a letter from one of America’s premier television preachers, inviting me to send money and offering me in return a Christmas tree ornament of an ‘angel’ with a trumpet, to remind me that God had commanded the angel looking after

me to blow a trumpet

to celebrate me.

What kind of pared-down and domesticated image of God do such leaders hold that they should utter such nonsense?” (D. A. Carson, from the August 14 Devotional, For the Love of God)

Indeed!

and my hope is that the Lord is about to do great and mighty things for his church in our place and time.

“Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts …” (Hebrews 3:15; 4:7).

When I went in I was greeted by a young man I had met there before … and he looked serious, intent, concerned. He leaned over and said, “We still need to believe.” And I said, “Yes we do!” He then told me that he’d been thinking that morning about the state of things—the world, our nation, the economy, people’s lives—and he was burdened about it all and about the fact that so much skepticism and pessimism and fear of the future and all that kind of stuff was what occupied people’ s mind’s every day.

So, he said, he wanted to make a difference, to change the way people think about life, to help them through trouble and trial and sorrow. And to that end, he’d sat down that very morning and written a reflection, an exhortation, on “Why We Should Still Believe.”

He gave me a copy.

Then he gave me a lot of copies and asked me to give them to folks at church if we had a Christmas Eve service. I took them and told him I’d give it a look. He went on about his “work” and I grabbed my coffee and sat down in the corner at a table, and started to read:

“The world today has become complicated and full of negativity,” he wrote. “You look at the headlines on the newspapers and the front page is consumed with financial scandal and war.” I couldn’t argue there. Then he wrote, “Realizing this I start to think about what is missing, what is strong enough for us to go back to a time of simple innocence.” I was hopeful. He went on, “As my mind races looking for an answer, one name comes to mind, Santa Claus.” I nearly fell out of my chair. His conclusion? “The world today needs Santa Claus more than ever … On this Christmas I have one wish, that we all start to believe in Santa Claus again.”

And in that instant, my heart was broken, not just for him but for a whole culture and a world so desperately empty, rudderless and adrift that people look for hope and help in a fable they know to be false, grabbing for anything they think will help keep their heads above water, longing for some lost innocence, some moment of inspiration, some little anticipation for a better world. I looked around for him, but he was gone. I wanted to say, “Yes, we do still need to believe, and there is a Name that comes to mind, but it’s not Santa Claus. It’s the Lord Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, God the Son born under the Law to redeem us from the Law, Redeemer, Mediator, the One that Christmas celebration is all about, the only One who has done something about all that’s wrong in our world, who is taking all who believe in him not back to innocence but on to holiness and glory, who has promised not just a better world, but a new heaven and earth! In him we have life, in him we have hope, in him we find joy, in him we’re given peace that passes understanding and hope here and hereafter.”

And that’s no fable!

The first was a non-traditional community church—laid back sort of dress, a rockin’ band, a largely young-in-age congregation, meeting in a very nicely renovated school building.

The second was a very traditional Baptist church—casual business sort of dress, a pianist and choir with director, an older-in-age congregation, meeting in an older and stately church building. The music in the first was contemporary (maybe even cutting-edge); in the second it was conventional and time-honored hymns. In the first we sang from words displayed on a number of plasma screens mounted from the ceiling around the room; in the second we sang from hymnbooks and lyrics printed in a program. In the first we sat in cushioned chairs; in the second on standard pews.

On the surface, things couldn’t have been more different.… but both were the communion of saints!

In both, our songs praised the Lord who saved us.

In both, the Word of God was read, and heard, and proclaimed with power and proportion, but without apology. In both, Christ was exalted as Savior and Lord, Redeemer and King, God and man, the Word made flesh. In both, there was fellowship and prayer. And in both, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper in unity, remembering his first coming and anticipating his second coming. Together, though in very different ways methodologically, we were part of something much larger—the communion of saints—and the glory is the Lord’s!

Prince of Glory, gracing heav’n e’er time began,
Now for us embracing death as Son of Man.
By your birth so lowly, by your love so true,
By your cross most holy, Lord, we worship you!

and well-traveled, and an absolutely delightful conversationalist. We’d talked about seeing the country by train, about her late husband and friends she’ d known in other places. She’d told me of times spent in London and Scotland, of an opportunity missed to visit Japan, and of a Lutheran pastor she had once that, for just a moment, I reminded her of.

Then she leaned forward and began, “All my family are Christians …,” and I wondered what would follow. Her next words gave me pause: “… but we’ve all taken so many different routes.”

“Do you mean different routes to becoming Christians?” I thought.

But before I could ask, she made clear that she meant that they each had such different ways of “being” Christians. One, she said, was a “religious fanatic,” another a good and kind person, but who “never went to church,” yet another had decided that her Christianity and heavy drinking were quite compatible. She herself, she noted, was “spiritual” and a “Christian” but not much of a church-goer, and really quite comfortable with people believing whatever they liked as long as they didn’t judge her.

And it hit me hard. There, right in front of me in the person of this charming and entertaining and interesting older lady, sat the embodiment of much American religion — moralistic, therapeutic, deistic, consumerist, individualist, neo-gnostic, postmodern, pluralistic, and completely self-assured and self-satisfied. This is all that many folks — even many church members — have. It is their own little religion, their own unique route and journey, for sure, and they really like it. But it is not biblical nor h

istoric Christianity, nor is it good news in the end.

These are strange days. Therefore, “… be alert, with all perseverance and requests for all the saints.

Pray for me also, that I may be given the message when I begin to speak—that I may confidently make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may be able to speak boldly as I ought to speak” (Ephesians 6:18-20, NET).

While here and there one finds notable exceptions, the Church-at-large in our culture seems to be of quite the opposite mind: “Don’t worry about what needs to be done, only what will happen if you do it.” In other words, look out for yourself, your interests, your investments, your future. Choose selfishly, not sacrificially.

If it comes to a choice, better to look good (image) than be right (character), better popular than prophetic, better culturally successful than fearlessly faithful!

God’s call to Ezekiel stands in stark contrast to such thinking. The Lord’s first words to him were: “I send you to the people of Israel, to nations of rebels, who have rebelled against me. They and their fathers have transgressed against me to this very day” (2:3). Okay, not quite the comfortable little position to ride out until retirement.

In fact, not only are they rebels and habitual transgressors, but they are “impudent and stubborn” as well, i.e. shameless and hard-hearted. Is it up to Ezekiel to make a career decision here, put together a list of pros and cons and opt for a more promising path? No! He is being “sent” and the heart of his commission is summed up in these words: “you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord GOD…’” (2:4). And before Ezekiel can voice the slightest concern, the Lord adds: “And whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house) they will know that a prophet has been among them” (2:5). In other words, Ezekiel is not to worry about what will happen. “Be not afraid of them, nor be afraid of their words … nor be dismayed at their looks” (2:6). His only concern is what needs to be done. “You shall speak my words to them, whether they hear or refuse to hear” (2:7).

Here is the crying need of the hour, in the midst of our dying culture: for the church to be the church—called and sent by God, taking a sacrificial stand if necessary, but always speaking the word of God into the midst of the rebellion, chaos and confusion of our day.

We truly don’t need to worry about what will happen when God calls and sends, only what needs to be done!

The unnameable distraction, that gnawing anxiety that something wasn’t quite right, suddenly stood before me bald-faced. It’s so easy to slip over into “ad-ministering” in the place of “ministering,” and to think (or at least assume) that the cause of church and Kingdom is won on

the field of management technique and organizational structure. Not to say, mind you, that good management and proper organization are unimportant and can be ignored. But there is no secret formula to the life and ministry of the church, as if finding and wording a perfect mission statement, and then crafting a compelling vision statement, and then devising a great strategy is necessarily going to accomplish our well-documented goals within our time-bound schedule.

I’m just a little uncomfortable with that. It’s too mechanical, too mathematical.

Besides, all of our “mission/vision/strategy/purpose-driven” stuff can easily mask a thorough-going pragmatism that is far removed from the biblical emphases of faithfulness, love, service, patience, suffering, and perseverance.

I, for one, want to slow the “drive” down a bit and reconsider the destination.