Make This Valley Full of Ditches

Posted on February 1, 2012 by Gary Kinnaman

Nearly seven thousand worship every weekend on the two campuses of Church for the Nations.  And, yes, they’re from all over the world.  Lots of “regular” people attend, but they translate their services in multiple languages.

“We have a couple hundred people from Nepal,” pastor Michael Maiden told me recently.

Michael spoke to our monthly gathering of the Grace Association of churches in January.  About God’s unique plans and purposes for each of us in ministry.  About how all of us have been called to impact our city together. We sat there captivated by his insights.  By his presence.  By the presence of God on his life.

Most of the time when I’m in church, I feel nothing.  I know in my heart that God is there, and I’m touched by the worship, moved by the Word.  From time to time, though, each of us has those really special moments the apostle Paul describes in I Corinthians 14:25,

As the secrets of their hearts are laid bare … they will fall down and worship God, exclaiming, “God is really among you!”

That’s how I felt listening to Michael.

I think I heard God’s voice, too.  A scripture I hadn’t thought about for years came to mind:

Thus saith the LORD, Make this valley full of ditches (2 Kings 3:16).

Eugene Peterson paraphrases it this way in The Message:

Dig ditches all over this valley. Here’s what will happen—you won’t hear the wind, you won’t see the rain, but this valley is going to fill up with water and your army and your animals will drink their fill. This is easy for God to do.

Not that valley

The passage is talking about that valley, the one way over there in the Middle East, south of Jerusalem in the desert of Edom.  Been there.  It’s as desolate as any place on earth and as hot as Arizona in the summer.

Yet the Bible has timeless applications.  A verse here, a passage there:  we know each one has an ancient context, but the ever present God keeps speaking through His written word to you and me.

So when the Bible refers to a “valley full of ditches,” I can’t help but think about Phoenix, my valley, our Valley of the Sun.  Centuries ago, an indigenous people–without the benefit of iron tools–built five hundred miles of canals to carry water from the Salt River to distant villages and parched fields (http://www.srpnet.com/water/canals/origins.aspx and http://ltvtp.shesc.asu.edu/hohokam%20canal%20systems.jpg ).

Those people mysteriously vanished.  Yet hundreds of years later, people returned to desolate valley and restored many of the prehistoric canals.  Like a patchwork phoenix, miles of cotton and alfalfa fields alongside vast acres of emerald citrus groves rose from the desert dust.

Our new valley

I  had breakfast this morning with a new pastor friend, Scott Brown.  The name of his church?  New Valley.  That’s my prayer and my life work.  I have a dream.  Of a new Valley.  Our Valley full of ditches, with the presence of God like life-giving water, surging through those ditches to every neighborhood in our megacity.

That image makes me think a couple other passages:

This water flows there [into the Dead Sea and the wilderness of Edom] and makes the salt water fresh; so where the river flows everything will live (Ezekiel 47:9).

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22:1-2).

So then, God says, “Make this valley full of ditches.”  In anticipation of a God-movement in our city, let me suggest a few ditches.

First ditch:  unity in the church

It’s a tired verse, but I hope it isn’t worn out:

I [Jesus] pray … for those who will believe in me through their [the disciples'] message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. (John 17:20-21).

The context of this passage, of course, is Jesus’ lengthy prayer for his disciples and the his mission through them.  A centerpiece of that prayer is his appeal for unity, because if we are going to anything significant for God’s kingdom, we have to it together.  And if the world is going to believe that Jesus Christ is God’s Son, they’ve got to see it in us.  How can Christ-followers love non-Christ-followers if Christ-followers aren’t even loving one another?

Furthermore, we’ve mistakenly viewed the commands in the New Testament as God’s personal expectations for each of us individually.  And they are.  But they’re so much more.  Our English translations don’t bring this out, but nearly every command in the New Testament is in the plural:  “You together …”  Take the armor of God, for instance, in Ephesians 6:10-13:

Finally, [you together] be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. [You together] put on the full armor of God, so that you [together] can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our [note the plural] struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  Therefore [you together] put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you [together] may be able to stand your ground, and after you [together] have done everything, to stand.

Most churches live in silos of denominational specifics, and pastors are lonely souls.  Studies show that more often than not they have no close friends and are certainly without real relationship with their competitors … um … I mean … other pastors.

When I was senior pastor of Word of Grace, every day I drove by four churches on the way to and from my office.  I stopped at each church to get acquainted with the pastor.  I even attended a morning service at one of those churches.  Yet not one of them stopped by to see what I was doing.  No, I’m not hurt, because they didn’t know each other either!

Hey, somebody has to build bridges.  Somebody has to put differences aside.  Kind of like Jesus?

What can you do?  If you’re a pastor, knock on the church door down the street, talk to that other pastor, ask all about what he’s doing, and promise to pray for him.  Arrange a breakfast or lunch to get to know each other better–and to talk about ways you might serve your neighborhood, your local school, your city together.

If you are not a pastor, pray for your church and its leaders, for the walls of separation to come down.  Then ask your neighbors where they go to church.  Don’t try to convert them!  Instead, tell them you will be praying for them and their pastor.

Second ditch:  solidarity with those outside the church

For several years now I’ve been serving in and outside church circles.  A few years ago, I was appointed Chairman of Governor Janet Napolitano (now Secretary of Homeland Security).  I got pushback, because good Christians, at least the white kind, are supposed to be Republicans.

Yet I can see God working everywhere.  John Calvin called it “common grace.”  I know this is hard for some people to grasp, but even non-Christians are created in the image of God and have a basic sense of right and wrong.  I know, we disagree on some moral specifics, and you’ll find corruption in every human institution from banks to churches.  Yet it’s hard to find a person outside the church who doesn’t want to help others.

Because God created us, a concern for others burns in the heart of every human being.  Think about the extraordinary work, for example, of the New York City police and and fire departments on September 11, 2001.  We applaud their courage and compassion.  Heroes all, but certainly not all Christ-followers and students of the Bible.

A few years ago, at our Word of Grace (my former church) staff and board retreat, we invited four community leaders to help us help them.  The former vice-mayor of Mesa said something I’ll never forget:  “If you want to make a difference in our city, you will have to learn how to work with people you don’t agree with.”

People in city-reaching movements have a term for this:  “centered set.”  It means that we put a dot on the paper and say, “This is what I care about.  If you care about this, let’s work together.”

This is worlds different from the traditional approach of church people, who often have a  ”bounded set,” which means I draw a circle and say:  “This is what I believe.  If you believe what I believe, then we can work together.”

What can you do?  Go find some human service agency in your area and volunteer some of your time each month, to serve the underserved and to learn from those who have been in the trenches for years.  I did that for several years at a “secular” food bank.

Third ditch:  Prayer

I don’t understand it, but I believe it:  not much happens when God’s people don’t pray.  Certainly, God is sovereign, yet the Bible says as much about prayer and asking and seeking and knocking–and communing with God–as it does, I think, about anything else.  Why God waits for us to pray is a mystery, but we know from the Bible and our experience that passionate, prolonged prayer and fasting changes things.

What can you do?

Pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.  Pray also for me (Ephesians 6:18-19).

Getting A Grip on The Spiritual Realm

Posted on February 6, 2012 by Gary Kinnaman

A Spiritual Warfare Primer

All of us in ministry have heard this one:  “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”

People who talk a lot about spiritual conflict seem to focus on the second part of this verse and pretty much ignore the phrase:  not against flesh and blood. Another common error is to think about this verse outside its context, which allows us to fast forward into the more intriguing demons-of-darkness part of the passage.  You know, if we fast and pray, the dark towers of Mordor will come crashing down. Our Middle Earth will be free at last.

Yeah, there are demons.  More frightening than the drooling ghouls of Lord of the Rings, but the battle isn’t just about us and them.  It’s about us and us.  Look at the context, beginning in 5:21:  Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”  This is the supreme principle governing all our important relationships at home and at work, which are identified by Paul in the verses which follow:

  • Husbands love your wives.
  • Wives submit to your husband.
  • Children obey your parents.
  • Parents, don’t provoke your children.
  • Slaves (employees?) work hard
  • Masters (supervisors?) treat your slaves well.

Marriage.  Children.  Work. And then in verse 10, because home and work are the battlegrounds of life, Paul writes, “Finally [or therefore, which denotes a concluding statement] be strong in the Lord and in his might power.  Put on the full armor of God,”  because “our struggle is not against flesh and blood.”

In other words, what happens in our homes and at work—and in our churches and mininstries—is not just about what happens in our homes and at work—and in our churches.  Yes, we have people problems, but under it all, over it all, around it all are spiritual forces of darkness.  The wise person looks beyond the more obvious human elements of every problem and, without downplaying them, sees that life is a spiritual battle, that our natural world is constantly interfacing with the spiritual world.

I was talking with a highly competent young woman on our church staff.  She was telling me about a difficult leadership situation she was facing, and how it seemed to be possessing her thoughts and emotions.  She said, “My feelings about this whole thing have been entirely disproportionate to the circumstances.  So I said to myself this is not natural.  This is supernatural.”

I’ve written several books about spiritual stuff:

In each of these books (two of the three are available in my website bookstore), I’ve tried to address a core issue:  our general blindness to and apathy about the reality of the spiritual dimension and it’s affect on our daily lives. It’s a cultural problem, because our “civilized” modern world has an anti-supernatural bias.

You know, all that stuff about angels and demons is primitive thinking, and national news wouldn’t think of the possible spiritual side of everything from hurricanes to revolutions.  Even in many local churches, where people love the Bible, there is resistance to things like praying for physical healing or, God help us, speaking in tongues.

What Paul writes in Ephesians 1 is, I think, particularly applicable to Christians in North America:

18 I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know [1] the hope to which he has called you, [2] the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and [3] his incomparably great power for us who believe.

Why do we need our eyes open?  Why do we need incomparably great power?  We have three big problems that need a big, supernatural God:

1

We see through a glass darkly

Paul writes about life in the here-and-now in contrast to life after life:  “We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! (1 Corinthians 13:12, The Message).

I especially like the reading of this verse in the old King James:  “For now [in this life] we see through a glass, darkly; but then [life after death] face to face.”  In other words, seeing the reality of the spiritual dimension in this life is just plain difficult, like looking into a car with dark-tinted windows.  Even the apostle Paul, who had “seen” the third heaven and things he had no words to describe, recognized the powerful pull of the natural world on our thoughts and feelings.

This is why he also tells us that we should “live by faith and not by sight.”  Yet any survey of Christians, even the best kind, would probably tell us that it’s much easier to live by sight and not by faith.

I’ve spent my life in ministry, preached hundreds of sermons, have two seminary degrees, and have authored multiple books on the Christian faith.  I have to confess, though, that it’s easier for me, like Thomas, to believe what I see around me more than I believe in God’s Word and the reality of the spiritual realm.  Why? Because our fallen human nature binds us to time and space—and blinds us to the realities of the spiritual dimension.

It all started in Genesis 3:

1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’ ”

4 “You will not surely die,” the serpent said to the woman. 5 “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

It seems pretty clear that Satan’s offer means that their spiritual eyes would be opened, and as a result they would become more like God.  So …

6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened …

Just like the devil said! But …

… they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves

Forgive me for being crass, but at the first reading, this seems like a story for little children.  Even ludicrous.  Here we have the moment in creation history when sin and death enter the human race, and the first consequence of this dreadful moment is that Adam and Eve, like in a bad dream, realize they left for work without getting dressed.

I can imagine their bulging eyes and high pitched screams as they see each other’s naked, pink bodies for the first time.  Or maybe their bodies were milk chocolate brown.  And like anyone else caught naked, they frantically made themselves fig leaf coveralls.

But surely there must be more to this ancient narrative.  We read a little later in Genesis 3 that, as a result of Adam and Eve’s disobedience, human beings were sentence to the certainty of physical death.  But something else died right then and there:  our capacity to have open relationship with God.  To walk and talk with him.  To see him as we hope to see him when we pass from this life to the next.  As a result of the original sin, we also lost our pristine capacity to allow our lives to be governed entirely by the reality of the spiritual realm, instead of the curse of being bound by time, space, and the daily circumstances of life.

When Adam and Eve’s eyes were opened, human nature was turned upside-down.  Physical sight became primary and our capacity for spiritual sight was severely disabled.  Ever since, we have to look at heaven through brown frosted glass, and life is a struggle to keep our eyes fixed “not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18).

It’s why Paul prayed for the Ephesians, for the eyes of their hearts, their spiritual eyes, to be opened to the realities of God’s reality and power.

The resurrection of Christ gives us a glimpse of the future, where our literal, physical bodies will continue to exist in but won’t be bound by time and space. Just ask the apostle Thomas about the resurrected Jesus.  He poked his finger in his his wounds, and some of the other disciples had breakfast with Jesus on the beach.  Yet something about Jesus’ new body was ethereal—not bound by time and space.

So why do we need our eyes open?  Because we’ve been spiritually blinded by sin.  But there’s more.

2

We pride ourselves in not being superstitious

In Western culture, even though we love things like Harry Potter and vampires, we don’t really believe in that stuff.

Christian author and student of the spiritual realm, George Otis Jr., writes, “The worldview of most non-Westerners is three-tiered:  on the top is the cosmic, transcendent world, in the middle are supernatural forces on the earth, and on the bottom rests the empirical world of our senses.  The unique tendency of Western society [Europe and North America] has been to ignore the reality of the middle zone.”

Even our language, English—and other western languages—betray our ignorance of the spiritual realm.  Did you know that the English word “supernatural” does not appear anywhere in the Bible?  There is simply no equivalent in Hebrew or Greek for our terms:  natural/ supernatural.  Instead, the Bible uses words like “sign” or “wonder” or “miracles.”  Instead, in the Bible—and in other cultures—the two worlds are equally real and fully integrated.

In India, for example, the amount every rupee note (their money) is printed in fifteen languages in fifteen different alphabets!  According to my friend in northern India, Paul Pilai, planter of thousands of churches, the English word “supernatural” has no equivalent in any of the fifteen major languages of India.  Again, the idea of two different realms, separate from one another, is foreign to most of the world’s population.

Why do we need our eyes open?  Why do we need incomparably great power?

3

Life is a spiritual battle

I absolutely love Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Ephesians 6: because he captures the gladiatorial aspect of our “struggle” against principalities of darkness:

This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels (The Message)

Let me show you from the Bible how virtually every aspect of human life is a spiritual battle.

Your mind

But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ (2 Corinthians 11:3)

For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. 4 The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:3-5)

Your attitudes and emotions

In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry and do not give the devil a foothold (Ephesians 4:26-27).

Your family and your work

Once again, the context of Ephesians 6:12  husbands and wives, parents and children, employers and employees—the flesh and blood of the home and the work place.  Sometimes the daily battles of life merge with spiritual darkness, so if life sometimes feel like hell, it is.

God’s work, advancing God’s kingdom, telling others about Jesus

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient (Ephesians 2:1-2).

The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God (2 Corinthians 4:4).

In conclusion, then, if the spiritual realm is real and it intersects our lives daily, it will alter the way we do life, the way we relate to one another, the way we resolve conflicts, the way we share our faith.  We will talk—and yell—less.  We’ll fast and pray more.

Galatians Part 11: The Scandal of Jesus-Plus-Nothing

Posted on February 1, 2012 by Gary Kinnaman

Galatians 5:7-12

How anyone can read Galatians 5 and still believe that Jesus-just-Jesus isn’t enough is incomprehensible.  The apostle Paul’s reasoning in this chapter and his defense of the absolutely pure gospel of Jesus-plus-nothing is irrefutable.

Yet this chapter is also Paul’s best response to the age-old question:  If my relationship with God is based on Jesus-plus-nothing, if grace is God’s totally unmerited love and favor from initial salvation to the day I meet my Maker, why should I worry about living right? Why should it matter?

Paul’s simple answer is in verse 13:  “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh,” and in 6:7-8 he declares:  “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.  Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.”

Jesus-plus-nothing is never an excuse to sin.  Living in sin limits the blessing of God and puts our future in this life at risk.  Yet living in sin does not end our relationship with God that comes to us in the new birth.  In other words, a prodigal son is no less a son than than one who is obedient.

It’s so clear in Jesus’ story of the two brothers (Luke 15:11-32) that they are loved equally by the father regardless of their behavior.  The lesson is that Father God’s love is unwavering, even when we are unfaithful, even though our unfaithfulness has dreadful temporal consequences.  On the other hand, the lesson we learn from the good brother is that, just as his bad brother’s behavior doesn’t change his father’s love, his own good behavior is not what earns his father’s favor.  Both sons are loved simply because they are sons.

More on this when we come to the end of chapter 5, but first let’s see how Paul identifies six reasons why Jesus-plus-something is ridiculously and perilously wrong.

1

Jesus-plus-something is simply not from God: “You were running a good race. Who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?  That kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you (verse 8).”

Already Paul is implying that living by grace isn’t an excuse to sit on the side lines and wait for the Second Coming.  We’re in a race.  We’re also supposed to obey the truth, but “the truth” to which Paul refers, of course, is the truth of the pure gospel.  In other words, obeying the truth isn’t just about doing good works, behaving ourselves righteously.  Instead, we have to give up trusting our efforts to please God.

I am made perfectly righteous before God the day I’m born again because of the righteousness of Jesus in me and on me.  And every new day of the rest of my life I stand perfectly righteous before God because of Jesus in me and on me.  Remember Hebrews 10:14, which tells us that by one sacrifice he made us perfect forever.

2

Jesus-plus-something is dangerous even in small dosages: “A little yeast works through the whole batch of dough (verse 9).”
In the Bible, yeast is most often a symbol of sin.  During Passover, for example, the Jewish people had to remove all the yeast from their homes and eat unleavened (unyeasted) bread.  In this case, Paul is using yeast as a symbol God-pleasing through self-effort.  You just can’t minimize the impact of Jesus-plus-something.  Just a pinch of yeast affects the entire batch of dough.

3

Jesus-plus-something is simply not the right view of things: “  I am confident in the Lord that you will take no other view” (verse 10a).

More strong language from Paul:  He’s right and every other view on this is wrong.

4

Jesus-plus-something brings confusion:  “The one who is throwing you into confusion will pay the penalty, whoever he may be” (verse 10b).

Jesus-plus-nothing is controversial, even offensive, but it’s very simple:  My hope is build on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.  It’s so simple that religious people think it’s too simple.  They just can’t believe that that relationship with God from beginning to end is based solely on Jesus in me.

Jesus-plus-something, on the other hand, is not at all controversial.  It feels comfortable.  It gives God credit, but it also satisfies the my need to feel like I’ve done something good.  In the end, though, Jesus-plus-something is the source of confusion and uncertainty, because everyone seems to have a different idea of the “something” and how much of it we need.  Jesus-plus-something is a black hole, a bottomless pit.

For the ancient Jewish Christians the “something” was circumcision.  For legalistic Christians, it could be any number of things, from smoking a cigarette to premarital sex.  For just plain religious people, it could be how much we read or don’t read the Bible, or pray, or attend church or mass.  Personally, Jesus-plus-something drives me crazy, because everyone I talk to about it has a different answer to the question:  what’s the something?

Go ahead.  Do your own survey.  Ask other Christians, “If salvation is based on Jesus-plus-something, what is it?  How much of it do we need?  And who’s going to decide?  All the answers you get will drive you crazy, too.

5

Jesus-plus-something waters down the power of the cross: “Brothers, if I am still preaching circumcision, why am I still being persecuted? In that case the offense of the cross has been abolished” (verse 11).

This is a remarkable statement.  Paul explains: If you let yourself be circumcised, that is, if you believe that your eternal relationship with God is based on Jesus-plus-circumcision, you eliminate the offense (skandalon in Greek) of the Cross.

What the scandal of the cross?  What offends people?  The cross says that there is absolutely nothing you can do to save yourself.  No human effort can save you or keep you saved.  Even just a little human effort is a problem, that is, Jesus plus just a few little things.  Legalistic leaven that ruins the whole batch of grace dough.

Our utter helplessness in the matter of our own salvation is scandalous. This is the reason that Jesus-plus-something is always offensive to the most religious people and, conversely such good news to people who are struggling.

Jesus has essentially the same scandalous message in Luke 18:

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Scandalous!

6

Jesus-plus-something makes Paul really angry:  “As for those agitators, I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves! (verse 12)”

Ooh, I wonder if Paul went to heaven.  He’s not very nice.  He’s screaming, “As for those people who want to circumcise the Gentiles because they think that’s what’s going to make them holy, well, those people should just drop their pants and cut their whole thing off.”

So do you still believe in Jesus-plus-something?  What’s your “something”?  And how much of it do I need to insure my salvation?