war and the Bible

I remember when I was a junior in college and sitting in a small group with some young adults from my local church.  While I forget the central text of the lesson, I do remember us reading a passage from the Old Testament that made me feel a little uncomfortable.  In the passage God had instructed the Israelites to kill their enemies and to show them no mercy... And not just the opposing soldiers... God also instructed them to kill women, and children too.  That's when a hand went up and a lady asked the group, "Does this strike anyone as odd?  Why in the world would God call the Israelites to kill other people when the Bible tells us not to murder?  Jesus talks about forgiveness and loving our enemies... How does this fit in?"  And while I am sure there were not crickets in the room, I could have sworn I heard them in the silence that followed.

To make matters worse, after not receiving any sort of coherent answer, she turned to me and said, "Jay, you're a religion major, right?  What is your take on this?"  My guess is that some combination of words came out of my mouth, but I know my response didn't satisfy her and it surely didn't satisfy me either.

Since this episode, I have asked this same question to a few other adults who are five times more intelligent than myself, yet, I am still not sure I have ever been able to find 'rest' with the whole issue.  I eventually got to a point where I was embarrassed to ask the question because I was nearing the completion of seminary and I figured I would sound dumb for not having found reconciliation with the issue.

What I have come to believe and witness is that a vast majority of educated Christians do not know how to address and respond to the issue of war in the Old Testament.  Most people and teachers within the local church try to leapfrog these difficult passages and conversations and skip to other passages that are much more 'postcard friendly.'  Many times these stories of violence and massacre are quickly skimmed over so we can quickly arrive to a 'listener-friendly' conclusion, like: "God helps us in life's 'battles,' or, "God will never leave us..."  The issue of God and war throughout scripture has become one of the 'elephant in the room' topics that many people avoid and pretend that it is not there.

For thousands of years, many Jewish and Christian traditions have shielded their children from reading the Songs of Solomon due to the sexual imagery in it's pages.  Parents are encouraged to only allow their children to read this section of scripture once they are ready to have the difficult, yet necessary, conversations that are soon to follow... But what about the war narratives in scripture? What are they supposed to conclude when they come across graphic texts like the slaughter of the Canannites in Joshua?  If we are not ready to have intelligent and informed conversations about the topic, we must be OK if our students conclude:

1. God has no problem with war and the loss of human life.
2. Our God is an aggressive God who is ready and eager to punish and kill those who do wrong.
3. God does not care about killing innocent children.
And so on...

And while there is still a part of me that may always struggle holding together a God who would call his chosen people to 'show no mercy' on a foreign people and a God who was willing to die for my sins, I have come to a few conclusions regarding the topic of war in the Old Testament.

In the Old Testament, we read of an immanent God who actively participated in normal human history.  The unfortunate truth is that war was a constant reality for most nations in the time of the Exodus and following.  Going to war was not something 'new' that God thought up. Warefare is a human institution and is evil in nature.  Throughout the Old Testament scriptures, we read about a God who worked and acted amongst a society and world that was all too familiar with war, territorial battles, etc, to achieve the ends of both judgment and redemption.

It is also important to note that God never rejoiced in the act of war.  While God used the human institution of war to achieve certain ends, we must also remember that throughout the Old Testament we read about a God who envisions a time when "swords will be beaten into ploughshares" (Isaiah 2, Micah 4).  Isaiah 53 also speaks of the suffering servant who will willingly lay down his life for the sins and iniquities of many.  In the New Testament, we see the fullness of God's face in the one who taught people to love their enemies, to turn the other cheek, who came to serve and not to be served, who washed the feet of his betrayer,and who didn't lift a hand at his own crucifixion.

emotionalism and youth ministry

This entry was written as a response to Paul Sheneman's article at Barefoot Ministries

There are some youth ministries (and churches) out there who believe that the level of emotion that one experiences in their worship, prayer times, testimonies, etc, is an accurate gauge of one’s discipleship and growth as a believer.  The equation is pretty simple: the greater/deeper emotional response = the greater/deeper encounter with Christ.  And while emotion should definitely not be suppressed or avoided, we must be careful not to blindly adopt this equation of ‘emotion = discipleship.’ 

I speak as one who was quite susceptible to emotionalism as a teenager in the youth ministry I was a part of growing up.  Discipleship and spiritual maturity was all about who generated the greatest emotional response to a sermon, music set, at a retreat, an alter call, and so on.  One particular night I remember my youth pastor challenging us during a time of corporate confession (around a bonfire of course) to "not hold back and be real before Jesus."  As students began to share, I was well aware of my sin and didn't want to leave that night still 'hiding my sins from Jesus.' So, as a 17 year old teenager, I confessed everything in front of the group... Everything I could possibly think of.  The mood had definitely been set by my youth leader and he later commended me for how open and honest I was.  While I believed I was being obedient to God at the time by airing out all of my garbage, I look back at the whole experience and cringe at how honest I was before them...  Not because confession is wrong but because of the young ears who heard all of those confessions.  I lacked the discernment that 'confessing everything' might not have been the best thing to do.

Fast forward several years and I find myself as a youth minister.  My first year at the church, we attended 'Acquire the Fire' because, as one student informed me, "that is what our youth group did every year before you became... It’s the best event that we go on."  With the help of smoke machines, loud bands, and youth speakers who can tell gripping stories filled with well-placed tears and effective pauses, ATF has mastered the skill of evoking an emotional response from teenagers... And just like all highs, it is, and was, just a matter of time until the crash.  How can we expect anything else?  How are the teens supposed to get as excited back at their local church when our ‘worship band’ consists of just Bob… a balding middle-aged man who is still learning to play guitar?  All that to say: I no longer attend ATF.  Every once in awhile a parent or student will come up to me and ask why we don't go to ATF anymore.  While my response varies depending on who is the one asking me, my most common response goes something like this, "Because discipleship is a marathon... It is a daily decision and a daily directing of our paths toward Christ.  It is not about getting emotionally hyped up for 24 hours and trying to ride it out for as long as possible… only having to try and duplicate the experience later… We don’t go to Acquire the Fire because I don’t want to teach our teens that their ‘level of emotion’ determines the truth of the gospel and the necessity to pursue a deeper walk with Christ, even when we don’t feel like it… Something along those lines.

Up until just a year or so ago, I experienced quite a bit of guilt and shame when I would compare the current student ministry I find myself in with that of the one I was a part of growing up in my teenage years.  I remember the emotion filled testimonies... I remember worshiping with my fellow teenage peers... I remember some great retreats that we went on together.  And quite honestly, I don't see that as much with the youth ministry that I am currently leading.  At times I wonder if I am in the wrong.  I wonder if I have become so cautious about not being manipulative that I have actually robbed them of something deeper.  However, what I have begun to see is something that has less highs and lows and something that appears to be more true and lasting.  

My conclusion is a very predictable one.  Emotions are some of the very fabrics that make us human.  As youth pastors/leaders, we must seek the healthy balance of not suppressing and avoiding a Christian faith that is void of emotions, which would be unhealthy and lacking.  Also,  we must make sure that our chief aim is not to simply seek out an 'emotional response' from our students because that has little to do with the gospel and more to do with adolescent development.  


May we all seek to honestly and faithfully preach, teach, and present the gospel in a manner that is accessible and understandable to our students.

the cross and the suburbs

I recently read through Lee C. Camp's 'Mere Discipleship.'  While I have never been the best at summarizing books, Camp believes that much of the Western Church has adopted a view of discipleship and Christianity that is not loyal to the way of Christ.  As a whole, the Church is much quicker to seek out self preservation, self maximization, financial/physical security, and self sustenance long before we consider the difficult words of Christ that call us to the way of the servant, to not store up treasures on earth, and to pick up our cross.  Bonhoeffer said, "suffering is the true badge of discipleship."  To follow Jesus in a real way actually costs something.

Well, here is my confession...  I struggle seeing any of this in my own life.  Please, I don't make a statement like this to evoke any cheap or cheesy encouragement, I am simply being honest.  My wife and I live in a wonderful little townhouse in Independence, MO.  If you were to compare our income to that of the entire world, you would find that we are filthy rich.  We own two vehicles and our fridge is fully stocked.  The last thing I worry about is a roof over my head, gunshots through my windows, what clothes I am going to wear tomorrow, or where my next meal is going to come from.  I don't wake up at night wondering if tonight is the night I will be arrested for being a minister (China, several parts of Africa, Middle East, southeast Asia).  All of our basic needs are fully provided for, and then some.  Yet, it is quite clear from Paul's writings that the suffering endured by the Messiah is paradigmatic for the disciples of the Messiah, for those who follow the footsteps of the suffering Christ will endure suffering as well.  

As for the local church I serve in... We are located in a very blue collar, predominantly middle class community.  While there are definite needs and struggles in our community that we strive to meet (family issues, clothing, lack of food, utility bills, etc), I struggle seeing and knowing what it means and looks like to be a radical disciple in my community.  Perhaps I am wrestling with guilt in knowing that while I am free, there are many others taking on a similar responsibility as mine who are very familiar with suffering.

staying too long?

This past Sunday our church honored my Sr. Pastor, Shaun Sutton and his family, for being here at Fort Osage Nazarene for 20 years.  It was awesome to listen to people share memories and express their gratitude for the influence he and his wife have had in people's lives..  This church is definitely blessed to have had Shaun and his family for this long.

I have always been an advocate for long term investment into a community when it comes to pastoral ministry.  To be honest, there is a small amount of pride I take when I tell people that I have served at my church as the youth pastor for 6 years due to the fact that the average stay is much shorter than that.  It takes a long time to earn trust, build relationships, etc.  However, for the first time I find myself considering the negative effects of such a long term investment.

If Shaun were to leave this church tomorrow, whoever replaced him would be in for absolute failure.  No one could fill his shoes... Not necessarily because they would not be as qualified, relational, or intelligent, but because the community has become so emotionally attached to Shaun and his family that any replacement 'just wouldn't be the same.'  So, my question is pretty simple: Can building long term friendships/relationships and becoming so deeply rooted into a community actually end up as a potential hindrance to the gospel?

citizenship

I was falling asleep to 'Celebrity Apprentice' when the news anchor came on the television to announce a 'new information' in regards to the death or capture of Osama Bin Laden.  As the media awaited the presidential speech, there was about an hour worth of footage looking back at 9/11, military campaigns in the middle east, previous attempts to capture Bin Laden, etc.  One channel showed a number of people gathering in front of the White House singing 'We Are the Champions.'  It was all very odd and strange to me.

Don't get me wrong, I could hardly be considered a 'Bin Laden sympathizer.'  I did not and don't plan on shedding any tears due to his death.  In fact, my greatest hope is that in some way, this will help bring about greater peace in the world, however, I am pessimistic that it will.  If anything, my guess is that Bin Laden's death will simply act as a motivation to those people we have come to label as 'terrorists.'  

What puzzled me about the celebrations was the same thing that puzzled me when the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004.  When Keith Folke got Edgar Renteria of the St. Louis Cardinals to ground out to win the game, I remember seeing Red Sox fans literally crying, screaming, and celebrating like they had all just won the Megabucks.  I was very happy to see my favorite team win, but there was something about the celebration that struck me as bizarre.  At the end of the day, a group of overpaid athletes won a sports competition.  I couldn't help but wonder if the people celebrating the world series victory had ever gotten more excited and joyful over anything else in the course of their lives. They cried, cheered, and celebrated as if these games actually had lasting significance.  So when I saw the thousands of people singing, cheering, and celebrating outside the White House, I couldn't help but think to myself, 'how is it that so many Christians can celebrate like mad when they hear of Bin Laden's death and remain quiet and content on Resurrection Sunday?'  It is very interesting to see the different things people become passionate about.  Why are we so excited?  Our actions reveal what we really think and feel.

I have come to the conclusion that many Christians are far more interested and committed to pledging their allegiance to the American flag as oppose to the Kingdom of God.  We are much more likely to pick  up and carry our flag as oppose to pick up and carry our cross.  How is it that we are so fazed and angered by the 3000 innocent people who died on 9/11 and don't give much thought to the 100,000+ innocent people who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan as a result of the 'war on terror'?  While I think there are many great things about the country that I live in (and I truly mean that), it is scary how close patriotism and idolatry are related to one another.  I grew up hearing about the 'Christian principles' that our nation was founded upon, only to learn later that massacre, massive slaughter, and animalistic slavery was somehow greatly downplayed in the textbooks I read at school.

When our primary allegiance and citizenship is in Christ and God's Kingdom, it becomes far more difficult to celebrate the death(s) of the one we call our 'enemy.'