A (sad) study in contrasts

Last Sunday, while wrapping up our week of vacation, I experienced an interesting study in contrasts.

First, we chose a congregation with which to worship God, not far from the campground we were staying at.  Like most people looking for a church, we consulted the websites of several nearby congregations, and found one with a statement of faith that we could resonate with, so we opted to tell our GPS to send us there.

The congregation was surprisingly small.  In Canada, we expect this, but in the US, most churches (while still under 100) tend to be a bit larger than what we experienced.  The people were friendly and there were lots of young families, so we felt welcomed.

Then came the sermon.

The preacher – who may have been a guest, a member of the church, an intern, or the incumbent, I have no idea – managed to embody an unfortunate trifecta in his preaching:  long, boring and repetitive.  

He didn’t say anything wrong; his theology was fine and his manner was sincere, but his communication approach made the good news of Jesus seem boring.  He was rounding the corner to Point Number Three at the 45-minute mark, not yet having uttered the word “finally”, and we had a bit of a schedule to keep, so we ducked out the door from our back pew, largely undetected.

Contrast that with our next stop, for lunch, which was at the growing American phenomenon known as Buc-ees.

If you’ve never visited one, picture what might be the result of a love affair between a Walmart and a gas station.

Upon entering, you’re greeted boisterously by the staff (still clearly heard over the din of hundreds of people wandering around the place).  Trying to take it all in, at one point, our train of thought was interrupted as a staff member announced, “Buc-ee is in the house!”  And everyone cheered, and started taking pictures of the company mascot, a beaver, who looked like he would be more at home trying to rouse the fans at a baseball game than posing for photos in the middle of a massive truck stop.

As we walked past, opting not to take up valuable storage in our phones with “Buc-ee and me” selfies, we noticed quite a commotion at the kitchen, which is also prominently placed near the centre of the huge building.  Those who were cooking were also engaged in various forms of mutual encouragement and pep-talk, clearly attracting the attention of hungry shoppers.  (Try the brisket sandwich if you go.)

As I reflected on the contrast between these two experiences, I caught the irony.  Maybe you see it, too:  the best news in the world was shared with as little enthusiasm as possible, while consumerism, personified by some dude dressed up like a fuzzy, buck-toothed, oversized rodent, was splayed forth with an almost hysterical call-and-response.

I’m not suggesting that everything we do as the church needs to be like a pep rally.  But I am suggesting that if we want to engage the world with what we know is the best news going, we had better act like it’s the best news going.

The atheistic philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “I will believe in your redeemer when your people look more redeemed.”  Who do you know that might be convinced to follow Jesus if they saw in you and me a love for God that was undeniable?

“For the Kingdom of God is not a matter of what we eat or drink, but of living a life of goodness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Romans 14.17, NLT).

The wildest thing in the world

Last week, my wife forwarded a tweet to me that really resonated.  It was written by a writer and speaker named Kaitlyn Schiess.  She wrote:

A few days ago someone who is not a Christian said to me,

“If Jesus Christ really was raised from the dead, that is the wildest thing in the world
and I don’t know how you’d ever be able to get over that.”

She’s right, and I cannot stop thinking about how clearly she saw it.

Do you ever wonder what your friends who do not follow Jesus think about the claims he made, or the claims we make on his behalf?  In many cases, we simply view them as facts we have held dear for a long time, but in our holding dear, do you suppose we sometimes take these claims for granted?

The resurrection of Jesus – if it is true, as we believe it to be – is the most amazing thing ever!  It’s more amazing than flying to the moon, more amazing than a seaside sunset, more amazing than tiger tail ice cream (okay, that last one is a personal bias).  It is the most remarkable phenomenon that has ever occurred.  Ever.

It’s so remarkable that it affected time itself:  the world measures time based on the person of Jesus.  (A.D., after all, stands for anno domini – the year of our Lord – and even though many people choose to use C.E. nowadays, standing for ‘common era’, it still hearkens back to the fact that Jesus’ life, death and resurrection affected how we tell time.)

We are invited to live as a people of the resurrection, this world-altering phenomenon that so many of us simply take for granted.  It really is, as the writer’s friend said, “the wildest thing in the world.”

Yet many followers of Jesus seem to live as if they have gotten over it.  That’s a mistake.

We should live as the beneficiaries of the resurrection:  we are invited, not only to look forward to the eternal life that it bought us, but to live out the life and joy it brings us today.

When your friends look at you, do they see the joy of the victory of resurrection life in you?

Let’s live out the truth of what Jesus said: “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying.  Everyone who lives in me and believes in me will never ever die” (John 11.25-26a, NLT). 

Joy

Joy:  it seems so elusive to many people.  Why is that?

Sometimes, I think it’s because it easily gets confused with happiness.  In fact, sometimes even Bible translations confuse us on this matter, using “happy” when they mean “joyful”.  It may seem like angels-dancing-on-the-head-of-a-pin semantics, but in everyday language, I think we do well to keep the two terms distinct.

Think about it in terms of cultural sayings popular in the west:

Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy [your favourite thing], and that’s the same.

Happiness depends on ourselves.

Learn to value yourself, which means: fight for your happiness.

That last one comes from Ayn Rand, a Russian-American philosopher of the twentieth century.

We are a people who strive for happiness, and we often find it lacking something once we think we’ve achieved it.

There’s nothing wrong with being happy, but it can’t possibly compare with joy.  While, etymologically, the terms are connected, for followers of Jesus, there is a depth that comes with joy with which “the pursuit of happiness” just can’t compare.

Think about the special times in the life of church and family that are celebrated: what’s the common word that’s used, say, at Christmas and Easter?  “Rejoice!”  

That’s where joy comes from – rejoicing in the goodness of God.

We may think we have the right to be happy, but we have the privilege of joy.  Embrace it as a gift from God.

“…the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8.10b, NLT).