Holy frijoles.

Every time I look at that little counter at the bottom right-hand column of my blog and see its disproportionately large number of unique visitors since January 7, 2005, I shudder a little.

I know I’ve fallen off the bottom of Matt Dabbs’ top 25-most-visited bloggers, and that’s okay. I know the views and comments have dropped off since I tried (and failed, thanks to illness) to blog daily through the Bible … and that’s okay, too. I know I have only a fraction of the followers that many even less-visited sites have … yup, okay with me.

And I’m even convinced that the content of this blog probably isn’t as exciting or fresh or topical or current or even as well-written as it used to be. Sorry about that, but you know, you can only say the same things emphatically a certain number of times before you sound like Johnny One-Note.

I don’t mind trying things and failing. It’s how I learn.

What I’m really looking for is a way to express Christ on this blog.

I tried a cooperative blog once – What Would Jesus Do Next? – and it was fun for a while, but it languished.

For several months, I attempted to write fifty-two communion meditations from all over scripture, each pointing to Jesus. Until I got to the gospels and the reality of the task; the complexity of the character of Christ just became too daunting to tackle.

So I’m asking.

All 75,000 of you. (Or whoever’s left!)

What do you suggest?

What resonates with you?

What did you feel blessed by reading?

What did you automatically skip?

What would you like to see through this Eye?

Traveling six states in 3 days last weekend, attending an all-Monday meeting, trying to catch up Tuesday, spending yesterday in a hospital ER and at home today because of a six- millimeter kidney stone has not been conducive to keeping up with daily blogging through The Story.

Yet I find that I have blessings that money can’t buy tonight … in Haiti or on Wall Street.

Give me a few days to recover, and I will try to get back on track.

“Do not go beyond what is written.” It’s the good advice of Paul to Corinth. (1 Corinthians 4:6) It’s also a pretty good principle of hermeneutics.

Let me pose a few questions.

Is it going beyond what is written to insist on a doctrine that is not explicitly expressed in scripture? When we say “thou shalt not” yet the scriptures say nothing about it? When we say “you’ll go to hell if you do” when the Bible is silent?

Is it going beyond what is written to support such a doctrine with the opinions of people who have not, as we generally canonize it, written any scripture?

Is it going beyond what is written to require biblical authority not only for any given act of worship, but also how, when, by whom, and where it may be performed … but ignore, minimize or explain away scripture which seems to contradict those doctrines of people? (for example: Acts 2:42-47; 18:26; 21:8-9; 1 Corinthians 11:4-5)

Is it going beyond what is written to forbid someone to confess Christ before others when scripture instructs us not to quench His Spirit? (1 Thessalonians 5:19)

Is it going beyond what is written to make law out of silence? presume authority to make that law when all authority has been given to Christ? to cause division rather than maintaining unity? to declare indisputable what others dispute? to not keep what one believes about such matters between one’s self and God? (Romans 14:19-23)

Is it going beyond what is written to make law for all churches, for all believers, for all time … out of instruction given to a church at a given time in a certain set of circumstances? (Colossians 3:22; Ephesians 6:5-9; Titus 2:9; 1 Peter 2:18)

Is it going beyond scripture to correct others by attempting to publicly humiliate them by name, at a distance … before discussing the matter with them in private first? (Matthew 18:15-20)

Is it going beyond what is written to judge others when Jesus says don’t? (Luke 6:37)

As a rather exclusive members-only fellowship of the church He died to save, we have generally prided ourselves on not going beyond what is written. It’s one of our Restoration Movement mottoes (“We speak where the Bible speaks; we are silent where the Bible is silent”) – and we call it a motto because we say we have no creeds.

If we are, in fact, doing a really good job of not going beyond what is written … then why aren’t we widely known as Christians by our love?

“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” ~ John 13:35

A few minutes ago, I added the comment below to a post at Patrick Mead’s TentPegs blog (which I am pretty much addicted to):

Jesus said “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me.” (John 14:6) As nearly as I can tell, He does not add, “… and to do so, one must read and fully comprehend all scripture, intuit or deduce correctly any doctrine implied therein, and live perfectly in accord with those and only those correct doctrines.”

Jesus is the Lord, the Righteous Judge (2 Timothy 4:1-8) of the living and the dead. God has mercy on whom He wills, and hardens whom He wills (Romans 9 and elsewhere).

We can’t tie His hands and force Him to save us by what we do. Nor can we imprison Him in a box of justice defined by our own judgment, making Him condemn those who aren’t as faithful or lucky or exposed-to-the-Word as we are.

He is, in a word, sovereign.

I trust Him.

My responsibility is not to save, but to seek; not to condemn others but to commend Christ; not to judge but to proclaim. I don’t have to know who’s in and who’s out.

You’re right, Patrick: All I have to do is tell the Story … live the Story … let the Story work its miracle within the listening and the searching and the willing.

All I have to do is lift up Christ and let Him draw all men closer to Himself.

And in retrospect, I realized again how I spend too much time and worry fretting over who’s saved and who’s not.

Silly.

In John 21, Jesus tells Peter to follow Him, and gives him a glimpse at how his death will glorify his Lord. Peter gestures toward John: “What about him?” Jesus tells him to mind his own business. Gently, of course, and kindly; in that inimitable Jesus-way of His. “If I want him to live and write a gospel and some epistles and give him a spectacular pageant of the story of God and mankind start-to-finish, what concern is that of yours?” Okay, I’m taking great liberty with the text, but you know I’m getting the germ of it.

John’s salvation and destiny should be of no concern to Peter. It’s in His hands. Always has been. Always will be.

It’s not like Jesus can’t be trusted to judge. He bought our trust with His own blood.

So I find that, every once in a while when my faith is weak and my arrogance snarls, I really ought to be praying, “Lord, please don’t harden me. Don’t let the cause of someone else’s fall or salvation be my bad example.”

At the same time, when I remember Paul’s words to Timothy cited above, I need to recall that his words about the crown of life he is to be awarded are unequivocal and confident – confident in his Lord’s desire and power to save, not in anything he alone has done.

And I should pray, “Lord, may You empower me to mind my own business and be about Yours.”

Sent from my iPhone

I’m a little uncomfortable with the term “church planting.”

I understand that it’s trying to describe something more organic than building and filling church facilities; something that communicates growth and change, and that the alternative term “church-building” would have attached to it all of the baggage of “church buildings.” But “church planting” isn’t really a scriptural term.

Yup, I’m aware of Jesus’ parables of the sower and the seeds and the soil (Matthew 13, 25:24-26; Mark 4; Luke 8); that Paul would take up the metaphor also (1 Corinthians 9:11; 3:6-8). And while they may well have application to gospel-sowing on a community-wide as well as individual scale, I keep coming back to the impression that – with these metaphors – Jesus and Paul were talking about sowing gospel seed in individual, sin-soiled hearts. Their subject was “soul-planting.”

When they spoke about “church-building”, they used the words associated with church-building.

“And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” ~ Matthew 16:18 – one of only two times Jesus used a word translated “church” or “assembly” in scripture.

Paul even switched metaphors to make his point:

“For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building. By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.” ~ 1 Corinthians 3:9-11

And neither was talking about brick-and-mortar building(s); they were talking about using stone – rock-solid faith that will not shift in storms of persecution and floods of doubt.

Peter, the one whose pebble-faith was grown to boulder-sized conviction, agreed:

“As you come to him, the living Stone — rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him — you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” ~ 1 Peter 2:1-11 (partial quote here)

Sure, I know that using a stone-masonry metaphor today will also carry with it all the baggage of Masonic imagery, too – but the metaphor is scriptural. It conveys an endurance in storm and persecution; speaks of becoming the altar and “spiritual house” in which “spiritual sacrifices” are made, and talks about building on the foundation of Jesus Christ as God’s fellow workers.

When my family and I traveled in Ireland this last summer, we saw – all over the middle part of the island nation – stone walls, some hundreds of years old; others thousands. They marked boundaries, formed sheep pens, walled in gardens. And some out on the barren, wind-blown coastal burrens had no apparent purpose on a soil to rocky to support life of any kind. But the walls persist, carefully hand-laid, stone fitting upon stone.

I have a little bit of fear that when we use the term “church planting,” we’re bringing with it the very correct impression that as planters we are not responsible for the receptivity of the soil; an impression that can lead to a kind of fatalism and expectation of failure. That is to be expected – on an individual basis – because individual people can reject the seed of the word; let it be snatched out of their hearts by fear of persecution; let it be choked out of their lives by cares and worries of the world.

Churches don’t. At least, they shouldn’t. They should be built up together, supporting each other, founded on an active faith in Christ that is as enduring as stone. That’s why Jesus spoke so much about building on a foundation that lasts:

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” ~ Matthew 7:24-27

So plant the seed, yes. Be grateful when not all of it falls along the path. Praise God when the seed finds root, and the root finds soil, and the soil is moist and ready for it.

Then work with Him to build a wall, founded on rock-solid faith in Christ, to keep out the birds and the weeds and the thorns.

Everyone has times when faith grows weak.

I’m in one of those times. I’m in one of those times when faith seems less genuine and the One in whom I have faith seems less real and more distant.

I know better. I know what scripture says about how close He is. Close enough that unseen armies surround the prophet and his servant. Close enough that a soon-to-be-martyr can see Him on His throne and recognize His face. Close enough that the prime evangelist of century one can tell the polytheists of the Areopagus that He is not far from any of us.

I’m talking about feelings. And if He feels distant – like the old couple talking about why they don’t sit as close together in the car seat anymore – I know who has moved, and it isn’t the Driver.

I feel like I’ve slipped back into programmatic worship mode. You know what I mean. I’m talking about where you were before you began to realize that Sunday church inside the right building wasn’t the totality of Christian life, service and worship.

(You do know that, don’t you? I’m still pretty sure of it. But …)

I used to know and feel the same thing, and that thing was a life-direction pointed toward Him. It was a recognition of what He has done. It was a sense of gratitude and partnership and humility. It was growth and transformation and sanctification – being set apart for something worthwhile in life.

I remember that feeling.

So I can know enough to write the words, but I can’t feel enough to live them.

I can Facebook a little. (I don’t really care if I ever tweet again.) I can’t blog, though, because when you blog, your head and your heart have to be in it and in it together.

Right now I can’t go to a hill with scenes of fear and woe. I can’t go to the garden alone, whether dew is on the roses or not. I need to turn around and start back toward Him from where I am.

I need me some Psalms.

But as for me, my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold. ~ Psalm 73:2

He will not let your foot slip — he who watches over you will not slumber … ~ Psalm 121:3

When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your love, O LORD, supported me. ~ Psalm 94:18

My friend Tim moved his beautiful wife Nancy to hospice care yesterday. They are the parents of two terrific teenagers. Their daughter had to have surgery to remove a tumor in her brain this year. Nancy has battled cancer for two years.

She is much more than a simple reminder of my mortality. She is a valiant warrior in the faith, an extraordinary mother, a beloved wife, a cherished sister in Christ. She is still the lovely girl Tim introduced me to more than twenty years ago, and when I saw them together, I couldn’t help but think, “What a lucky stiff to find someone like her!”

So last night I prayed for a miracle.

My family prayed for a miracle when my dad died and was revived by EMTs, only to remain in an unresponsive coma for a few weeks before slipping away again.

Yet I believe in miracles. That’s why I pray for them. I believe that God can, should, would, and does bless His children in supernatural ways (as Dallas Willard phrases it in Hearing God).

Many people don’t, because they do not believe those things. – Or, at least, they believe that He can’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, and/or doesn’t bless His children in supernatural ways anymore.

And they know that there’s no point in asking Him, because they don’t believe.

In fact, some are so certain of their unbelief that they teach it as doctrine. An article in a fairly recent publication even puts it in boldface: “there were no more miracles needed.” (Because putting something in boldface or repeating it to extinction automatically makes it true, so that no logic nor citation of scripture is needed.)

Sounds like Nazareth to me.

Jesus said to them, “Only in his hometown, among his relatives and in his own house is a prophet without honor.” He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith. ~ Mark 6:4-6

I don’t think this means that their lack of faith prevented Jesus from being capable of doing miracles – because it clearly says that He could still “lay His hands on a few sick people and heal them.” I think it means that they could see the miracles and their unbelief prevented them from seeing them for what they were: God’s compassion toward His children in a sin-sick and dying world, expressed in a supernatural way.

I think they wrote them off. Coincidence. Illusion. Fakery.

Of such people of unremitting unbelief, Jesus tells the story of the conversation between Lazarus and Abraham in the next life:

“‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'” ~ Luke 16:30-31

Some will quote this and John 10:25 and :38 and John 14:11 and conclude that the purpose of miracles was only to verify the Word, or more accurately, Jesus’ relationship to the Father. But that is inserting an unwarranted “only” into the conclusion. It’s going beyond the Word. In fact, it’s contradicting the Word.

The Word says:

Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.” ~ Matthew 15:32

Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed him. ~ Matthew 20:34

Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” ~ Mark 1:41

Has God run out of compassion? Can He only answer prayers in the ways to which we limit Him? Is it possible we do not have, because we do not ask? Or we’re asking for the wrong things for the wrong motives? (James 4:1-3) Or because we ask, but don’t believe God can, would, should or does? (James 1:6)

I’m not advocating all-out gullibility. I’m not saying that I believe (or that you should believe) that every faith-healing televangelist who takes up a collection after the same people have been slain in the Spirit to be healed of their infirmities for the dozenth time in the dozenth city on their tour actually manifest the indisputable power of God.

But there’s a vast difference between that gullibility and the kind of unbelief that says, “I don’t believe it happens because I’ve never seen it.”

Really?

I have never been a first-hand eyewitness to nuclear fission, human birth, or the moment that someone decides to believe in God. But I see the incredible results of those things happening all around me all the time and – in spite of the fact that to a reactor technician … to an obstetric nurse … to a minister of the gospel … to them, these things may become quite mundane and natural and ordinary – to me, they are quite extraordinary and supernatural and miraculous. God designed them. They were created at His word. The very faith that I have in Him is His gift to me. (Ephesians 2:8)

Maybe you’ve never seen a miracle because you never believed you would or could or should or did.

But to say “there were no more miracles needed” and to boldface it as if were God’s own truth …?

Try telling that to my friend Tim.

It’s a story of faith.

Linus believes in the doctrine of The Great Pumpkin, rising from the most sincere pumpkin patch in the world on midnight of Halloween and bringing gifts to its children. We don’t know where he got the doctrine. It seems ridiculous; a mish-mash of other childish myths and fables. But, in his innocence, he is sold out on it.

So it’s also a story of sincerity.

Though the other children in the Peanuts gallery make fun of him, they cannot doubt his own faith or sincerity. He is persecuted – even by Charlie Brown’s little sister Sally, who dotes on him gives up her tricks-or-treats and a party to sit with him in the pumpkin patch – but he doesn’t stop believing. Even when The Great Pumpkin just turns out to be an errant Easter Beagle named Snoopy, strayed from a World War I flying ace mission over the French countryside.

And it’s a story of redemption.

Crabby older sister Lucy awakens at four in the morning, puts on her hat and coat, and goes out in the cold to fetch in little brother Linus, still shivering and asleep in the pumpkin patch. She pulls off his socks and shoes and tucks him into bed. In my eyes, Lucy is redeemed as a person by her love for her little brother.

Most of the children’s fare that’s cranked out for holiday broadcast these days is pretty much devoid of themes like these, even if you squint through a microscope at them.

That’s why “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!” is a classic, still played on network broadcast television two generations later, and that’s why I still like to watch it.

But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

… say a lot about us, and how frequently we use some words is even more revealing: it shows what we talk about, what we are passionate about.

And I became curious a little while ago. I don’t have one of those word balloons on my blog that shows – graphically, at least – how often top phrases are used relative to each other. What does my blog talk about? What am I passionate about?

Then I began to wonder what other online sources would look like.

So I Googled, using advanced Google search, to find the incidences of some key words I came up with, out of my own head, as found on the sites Seek The Old Paths, back issues of Gospel Guardian, the NIV New Testament (using Bible Gateway’s internal search engine), New Wineskins and this blog. (I think I got the left-to-right-leaning order backwards.)

And this is what resulted:

Keyword	STOP	GG	NIV	NW	Blog
grace	302	514	116	112	440
obey	86	604	57	97	108
obedience	224	48	12	144	71
baptism	101	1,110	22	327	318
baptize	64	208	50	51	37
confess	151	309	20	163	101
condemnation	88	216	6	37	54
condemned	147	493	28	72	60
salvation	121	1,070	40	417	346
cross	210	552	42	628	205
distinctive	48	61	0	60	7
distinctiveness	13	41	0	6	8
doctrine	348	1,190	7	207	156
faith	160	107	286	246	405
sin	96	1,020	436	520	279
music	250	664	3	828	119
sing	170	163	9	303	159
heresy	52	117	0	41	38
spirit	125	100	368	127	106
Christ	230	150	531	297	114
Jesus	210	99	1,276	260	133
God	266	164	1,287	398	131

I realize this is only a measure of how many times, not how, these words were used, and I hope you do, too. I thought about using an equalizing factor and percentages, but the total number of words in the different columns looked close enough to being in the same range that it seemed superfluous.

I leave you to draw your own conclusions.

I’m sure my blog isn’t typical. But I will say that as far as emphasizing what scripture emphasizes in our online conversation, we all have a long journey ahead of us.

“Therefore come out from them and be separate, says the Lord. Touch no unclean thing,and I will receive you.” ~ 2 Corinthians 6:17

“I urge you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and put obstacles in your way that are contrary to the teaching you have learned. Keep away from them. For such people are not serving our Lord Christ, but their own appetites. By smooth talk and flattery they deceive the minds of naive people. Everyone has heard about your obedience, so I am full of joy over you; but I want you to be wise about what is good, and innocent about what is evil.” ~ Romans 16:17-19

There is no doctrine of distinctiveness in the Bible.

Not as it has been taught in my fellowship, anyway; there’s no scriptural doctrine of distinctiveness that says “We have everything right and any other believer or church which doesn’t is apostate and we must have nothing to do with them,” and then quotes verses like those above.

Because in the first one, Paul is talking about unbelievers. Not people who believe in Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior, crucified and risen and reigning, but disagree with you about some spin you’ve put on scripture. Unbelievers. He’s talking about people who don’t believe at all.

The second one is talking about people who are trying to split off and divide and “disfellowship” (another word which – like “distinctiveness” – is not in the Bible). After all, it’s the person who draws lines where God hasn’t that is divisive; not the one who, perhaps unwittingly, crosses that wholly imaginary line. So to use that scripture as a proof text to justify divisiveness would require one to not associate with himself or herself.

Good luck with that. Sounds kind of schizoid to me.

Distinctiveness from unbelievers, yes. I can see that. (If you have to put an extra-scriptural label on it.) We should be displaying the mind and heart and Spirit and actions of Christ, which will be difficult for unbelievers who do not know or will not accept Him. We do so to win their minds, their hearts, their souls, and their actions to Christ. We do so because we can; because as believers we have the Spirit of Christ. (Romans 8:9-11; Ephesians 1:13).

But not distinctiveness from other believers, even those with whom we disagree – no. Decidedly, NO. Insisting on such “distinctiveness” is not displaying the mind and heart and spirit and actions of Jesus. (And, no, we do not accept as fellow-believers those who live such lives sans shame or confession that they effectively deny a profession of faith in the humanity and divinity of Jesus Christ [Jude 1:4; 1 Corinthians 5:9-11; 1 John 2:18-23].)

Scripture has a word for teaching men’s rules as if they were God’s, and it is not “distinctiveness” … it is “vain.” (Matthew 15:9; Mark 7:7).

Let’s just face facts.

The kind of distinctiveness that separates believers based on the teachings of man but not God is just a way to justify saying, “I’m right and you’re wrong. I’m saved and you’re not. I’m better than you are.” It is arrogance. It is the refuse of male bovines. It is a lie.

You want to know what the truth is, what scripture does say, and what a great equalizer it is – not only of Jews and Gentiles but everyone on any side of any question?

“There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. … Righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” ~ Romans 3:10, 22-24

None of us has it all right. None of us has done it all right. Not me. Not you. Not anyone. All of us are toast, as far as righteousness goes, but for the grace of God through the sacrifice of Christ.

Now that is doctrine. And we would do well to heed and teach it.

We would do even better to also trust God and not to lean on our own understanding (Proverbs 3:5).

That’s doctrine, too.