Philemon’s Song

/ W. Keith Brenton / 6 Comments

Paul:
I’m in chains, bound to You, Lord
with a ‘son’ who slaves for me
I return him to his master
Set him free
Set him free.

Break me now, break me always
when my heart’s too hard to see
that I’m the point of grace
Set me free
Set me free.

Onesimus:
I ran away from a brother
who has always enslaved me
now my ‘father’ sends me to him
Set me free
Set me free.

Break me now, break me always
when my heart’s too hard to see
that I’m the point of grace
Lord, set me free
Set me free.

Philemon:
I once owned this useless one
who now bows and offers me
a plea from my dear brother
to set him free
Set him free.

Break me now, break me always
when my heart’s too hard to see
that I’m the point of grace
Lord, set me free
Set me free.

Christians:
Enslaved to laws that showed us sin
and how our lives should be
we forged yet more such fetters
Not of Thee
Not of Thee.

Break me now, break me always
when my heart’s too hard to see
that I’m the point of grace
Lord, set me free
Set me free.

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” – Galatians 5:1

Break us now, break us always
when our hearts won’t let us see
that we’re the point of grace
Lord, set us free
Set us free.

Let’s Go Minimalist!

/ W. Keith Brenton / 14 Comments

(written with tongue pressed against the inside of check as it is being bitten to cause sufficient mild pain that will keep me from bursting out in laughter)

Hey, Christians!

Let’s go minimalist!

It’s the only safe way to worship.

And that, of course, is the only way to please God.

So let’s gather in synagogues and homes and rented halls, because that’s what the early church did, and that’s the pattern.

Let’s have two or three speak instead of one preacher, because that’s what the early church did, and that’s the pattern.

Let’s drink the fruit of the vine from one cup because that’s what the Lord did and that must be what the early church did, and that’s the pattern – even if there are a thousand souls at worship and the cup holds gallons and it takes two hours. And while we’re at it, let’s partake of one loaf. For the same reason.

Because that’s the pattern.

Let’s pay our elders instead of our preacher and require him to work part-time, preferably making tents, because that’s what the early church did and that’s the pattern.

Let’s forbid women to speak or sing once inside the place we meet, lest they be tempted to teach or exercise authority over men through the public reading of scripture together or the singing of songs – because that’s what the early church did, and that’s the pattern.

Let’s require them to wear veils of authority on their heads because of the angels, and because that’s what the early church did, and that’s the pattern.

Let’s do the absolute least we can do in worship so that we do not offend the tastes and consciences of anyone at all, no matter how weak their faith, and do nothing to spur them on to maturity in the faith and trust in God and belief in the power of Christ’s blood and His love to cover all sin lest we fail to keep such beliefs in disputable matters to ourselves, because that is what the early church did, and that’s the pattern.

And following the pattern explicitly, word for word, is what pleases God and is therefore His will and commandment and the only thing that will allay His terrifying wrath that will be poured out on us because of our intentional departure from the pattern or even our ignorant misunderstanding of His silence when decreeing His unspoken commandments.

Because doing all the right things all the time in worship one or two hours a week together is so much more powerful than the blood of Christ or sharing that Story by living it out sacrificially and generously and boldly in our lives the remaining 166 hours of the week.

(for some reason my grin has faded and sunken to a grimace at this point and I flail about for a way to close what began as a light-hearted jibe)

God help us all.

Misquoted by Omission

/ W. Keith Brenton / 23 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, the editor of a church bulletin that we receive quoted (and attributed to me) a couple of lines from an article I had written for the bulletin of the church I attend … but only a couple of lines.

Long-time or overly-thorough readers of my blog would have recognized it as a better-organized rewrite of one of my posts here.

Since it was only the first couple of lines of the paragraph, he used that partial quote to say that my position was “oppositional” to God’s word; implying that I did not value what God wanted in worship.

This brother and I disagree on many things, but the importance of what God wants in worship is not one of them.

I felt maligned, and after waiting a day or so to cool down and meditate and pray on the matter, I wrote him a private letter on plain white paper sent in a plain white envelope, which said (in part, so that no identity is disclosed herein):

Dear ________ ,

I couldn’t help but note that you quoted me in your bulletin article in the series on the contextual study of John 4:
“Some ways that you worship God are probably really different than some ways I do. A few of mine wouldn’t make sense to you or ‘speak’ to you at all; and vice-versa. My guess is that I don’t have a right to require you to adopt mine any more than you should expect me to adopt yours.”

But the quote stopped there, and did not include the next lines:
“The final arbiter on any given point would be God, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t pleasing Him be the goal? Wouldn’t it please Him for me to feed you by participating in the ways that nourish your spirit, and for you to reciprocate for my hunger? Could that be why He calls us to dine together in the first place?”

So it appears that what I wrote was “oppositional” to what God wants; pointing out only the social aspect of our corporate worship at the expense of God’s will.

If there were truly something that you have against me and/or what I have written, I would have preferred the courtesy of being approached privately before the matter went public, as Jesus advises in Matthew 18:15-20. (I hope I am following the spirit of that instruction in this letter – at 2:08 a.m., I am also trying to resolve this in my heart before worshiping with my church family later this morning.) I am a reasonable person and would have been glad to try to illuminate any misunderstanding you might have had.

What I wrote, I had hoped my church family would read in light of the golden rule applied even in our worship together, as well as Paul’s observation that “love does not insist on its own way.”

Doubtless we see many things differently, you and I, but I do try to be fair and portray both the love and righteousness of God in what I write; His justice and His mercy.

We are all creatures gifted with different tastes, you see; even in what speaks to us in worship. I frequently kneel when I pray, because it speaks powerfully to me of the servant relationship I should have with my Master and King when I worship and petition in prayer. I would not dream of requiring it for everyone, because scripture does not. However, it does often exemplify it as a natural reaction of people who – sometimes suddenly – recognize the majesty of the Almighty.

His power and sovereignty humble me.

They force me to be honest about the possibility that yet someone else may have supplied you with that partial quote and may have been less than honest with you about its context.

So I hope that, if that is the case, you will pray for that person and his/her intentions, just as I pray for you and your congregation – and I sincerely hope that you will pray for me and be forgiving if I have done, said or written something to have prompted this friction. If I have, and have become callous enough that I cannot call it to mind, I am truly sorry.

Your brother,

Keith Brenton

I don’t know if I handled the situation well or even correctly. I did pray for the fellow that night, and it gave me peace to be able to worship the next morning with my church family.

If you have read both my article and his, I just wanted you to know that his words did not escape my attention, nor did I choose to do the convenient thing and ignore them. If not, I regret having wasted a few moments of your time with this post.

I respect a zeal for God’s word and God’s house. I believe that Jesus had such, and that it consumed Him. I like to believe that I have a good measure of it, too – but that I also have a good measure of love for God’s children, too. And that they are supposed to balance each other.

I have no respect for reading into anyone’s words a meaning and agenda that are not expressly there, and portraying them as such by conveniently omitting the controverting evidence when quoting. I hope that was not the intent. I hope it was an honest mistake; a quick scan rather than a thorough reading, or a torn page, or poor wording on my part that was easily misunderstood.

But I have received no reply to my letter.

Star Trek and Sacrifice

/ W. Keith Brenton / 6 Comments

I used to blog about the spiritual side of this aging television classic; how themes of sacrifice and resurrection and redemption were common to it.

And I would be remiss in my duties as a closet fan if I didn’t point you to what might be one of the best episodes of the classic television series that you’ve probably never seen:

World Enough and Time

You probably haven’t seen it because it is only a week old.

My guess is that some of the acting will impress you; the production values with floor you; and the script may very well leave you shattered.

Grab a warp-speed Internet connection and hold on to your white-with-black-pleather Burke chair.

As Scotty says, “It gets bumpy from here.”

P.S., 9/15 – The old link has been updated to an operational one.

Answers to Prayer

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

With all due respect to Jabez, I have come to pray less for myself and more for others – believing that, somehow, this is where much of the power of community in God’s kingdom lies.

Still, I am perplexed by His answers to prayers as I perceive them.

Sometimes the answer from God seems to be only, “I have heard your prayer.”

And I try to remember that Paul said His grace was sufficient.

Sometimes the answer from God seems to be, “I have heard your prayer. The one for whom you pray has made up his own mind in the matter. He must be the one to choose.”

And I try to remember that, though God is willing to give some people over to what they want and even willing to harden their hearts, the Story of His Son either has the power to soften them or not – as they choose.

Sometimes the answer from God seems to be, a little tersely, “Didn’t I already tell you that I have heard your prayer for this one?”

And I try to understand that answer as a reminder that it is time for me to forgive and let go and let Him do the judging.

Sometimes the answer from God seems to be, “I have heard your prayer … my child.”

And for a while we weep quietly together for those I’ve prayed for, until I am comforted by the picture of Him wiping away my tears and theirs in a house in His mansion where His children can rest in His arms.

Then I can finally curl up and sleep in this world and this house and this bed, perhaps not in His arms … but within His touch.

We Think We Know Jesus ….

/ W. Keith Brenton / 11 Comments

… but do we?

I blogged about Jesus for a month. Visitors to my site dwindled. Comments shrank and grew fewer.

We think we know the Son of God, Lord and Savior, Master and Friend, Teacher and Rabbi.

But the more we look at Him, the more blurred and muddled our stereotypical picture of Him becomes.

He defies our analyses. He explodes our myths. He refuses to fit our boxes. He will not remain in our tombs.

He says things that provoke us. Things we cannot, try as we might, fully comprehend.

He speaks an eternal language, and though He simplifies with story, the complete meaning simply eludes us.

Even when He asks His closest friends who they think He is, most of them struggle.

One of them has help with the answer.

Can we ever be so confident that we know Him and what He would want us to do/not do/say/not say/live/not live that we no longer seek; no longer ask; no longer knock?

There has never been a time in my life when I felt like I knew all the answers about Jesus. I knew people who thought they did. I was flat-out jealous of them (and a little bit guilty for that envy). I honestly thought they might.

But I don’t anymore.

If they had, they could have made billions writing books that would have outsold even Philip Yancey’s The Jesus I Never Knew – and I’m pretty sure he’s got a better grasp of the character, in many ways, than I do.

What are some things you were sure you knew about Jesus … concepts that time has capsized and sunk?

Party Like It’s 1984

/ W. Keith Brenton / 5 Comments

George Orwell’s despairing, dystopic classic makes one thing clear:

People will come to believe what you tell them if you pound it into their eyes and ears, day after day; threaten it into their hearts moment by moment. No matter how absurd your message is on its face; no matter how unproven or unprovable. Eventually, you will wear down their resistance to self-evident truth and they will come to believe it.

Whether it’s “Big Brother loves you” or “War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength” or “”We can’t win against terrorism unless we stay the course in Iraq” or “God detests instrumental music in worship.”

Just keep beating the drum, and people will believe. Just keep scaring them within an inch of death, and people will believe.

And you will be vindicated by all, because of course, the people are never wrong.

Then you and your Party can party like it’s 1984.

But, in the end, how does the staying power of such slogans stack up against the enduring grace of the Story?

How many of our hours are devoured by our own temporal desires at the expense of the eternal concerns of God?

How much time do we spend trying to save the lost as opposed to trying to condemn the saved?

How frequently do we turn the gospel into bad news by our bad behavior before a witnessing world?

Pretend You’re An Angel

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

You were created, not born.

You’ve probably never known materiality, had a body, possessed a thing, felt hunger or thirst or physical pain or pleasure or lust.

You’ve never feared death because you were made to live forever.

You dwell in eternity, at the point of transcending time and space.

You have always known God.

At least, you have always known as much of His nature as He has chosen to reveal it to you. You have known that it was good, and loving, and giving.

Some time back, there was a parting. Some angels left to go their own way, rather than God’s way.

When He created materiality and time and life that could end and mankind that reflected His image as the culmination of creation, at least one of the rebels was involved in luring mankind away from God to go his and her own way, rather than God’s way.

You saw things go from bad to worse. Perhaps you have even served as God’s messenger to some of his mortal people. Still they went their own way.

And had nothing to look forward to but death.

Then you saw the Prince of Heaven become one of the mortals; heard Him teach and saw Him heal and witnessed His love and watched Him die at their hands … and live again, so that they would have a chance to live after death, too.

What do you make of that?

What can you understand of it?

What do you deduce?

Is there something more intrinsically powerful and desirable and magnetic than going your own way? Some joy that is deeper? Some yearning more satisfying? Some emptying of self that is more filling?

Something that these mortal creatures can somehow perceive, though they have never seen it?

Something they will give their lives to, though they can only hope for it?

Something that they will suffer in order to enjoy?

Something for which they will trade now to receive later?

Something intangible, inexpressible, irreplaceable?

What is it?

What does it mean?

To a mortal?

To an angel?

Angels Among Us

/ W. Keith Brenton / 15 Comments

While it’s not usually a premise for a good movie, it’s been successful on television in the incarnations (pardon the pun) of Touched by an Angel and Highway to Heaven. While Disney has put them in the infield and the outfield in an attempt at motion picture comedy, Nicolas Cage’s usually-deft portrayal of a befuddled outsider faltered in the tragedy City of Angels.

Still, his portrayal of Seth and the movie’s script did not try to advance some interpretation of angels as “promoted” dead humans – and there was a hint of the bafflement that a created heavenly being might experience in the world of living saints and sinners.

Maybe it’s not as descriptive, though, as Steven Curtis Chapman’s take on 1 Peter 1:12, titled “Angels Wish.” If you haven’t heard it, try out a sample from iTunes.

A long introduction, I know, but it brings me to my point: I get the impression when reading scripture that angels, who have never experienced materiality (they’re ministering spirits, right?), must observe our world with some measure of perplexity. Just imagine how you or I would feel, being able to glimpse their realm but completely lack words to describe it. Or, better yet, read the attempts of John to do so in the Revelation.

I’m also persuaded that the church of century one believed that angels were with them in their assemblies. Paul tried to disabuse the Colossians of the notion that angels should be worshipped (just as an angel does, twice, with John during the course of his vision). Much of the book of Hebrews seems to debunk their superiority to mankind. Then it draws to its close by advising: “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:2) That’s a good old-fashioned Jewish call to hospitality, of course – but is the author referring only to the time Abraham hosted three of the heavenly host?

Do angels worship with us? Does it help them sort out our gender by having hair of short length for men and long for women? (1 Corinthians 11:10) Would angels, who are messengers by nature, really appear in our world and preach a gospel (Galatians 1:8), or is Paul using a quaint exaggeration to make his point? Would an angel take the form of someone we know (Acts 12:15), or was that a merely human misunderstanding of how they protect and serve?

Or is it that they did once worship with the church of century one, but no more? Has the day of the rebellious angels’ Judgment already come, as described by Jude?

Is it possible that God has sent these messengers among His saints – not only to protect and serve – but also to observe what faith means among those who have never seen God yet try to live pleasing lives … and report back to Him what they have seen in order for them to get a better grasp of the Really, Really Big Picture?

And if any of what I have proposed above is even remotely possible, how will it affect the way you and I regard the strangers in our assemblies come Sunday morning?

No Noose is Good Noose

/ W. Keith Brenton / 8 Comments

Sorry. Just squandered a couple of hours watching The Simpsons Movie with my 14-year-old son while his mom and 11-year-old sister were watching Bratz.

Oh, the things we do for our children.

I agree with Homer in the opening moments of the film: “I think all you people are stupid for paying to see something in a movie that you could watch free on TV.”

I don’t watch The Simpsons on TV. Yup, that’s right. Never have. Not once.

But you can’t escape the promos for it if you watch the NFL on Fox, so I have a basic idea what I’m not missing.

So. Two hours of my life that I’ll never get back. And it only felt like four.

Spoiler alert: Homer escapes being lynched.

Hope I didn’t ruin the movie for you.

I haven’t blogged much recently because I’ve been out of state to take the family to see my mom, now 82. We didn’t get to last year. She’s gained two great-grandchildren in the meantime. Both of my sisters are grandma’s now. My older sister has two grandchildren, and another on the way. My younger sister has one, and her second daughter just got married, so there will probably be more.

I told my son that if he wanted to get married and have kids, that’d be great – but he needed to realize that they’ll be in diapers at the same time I am.

Spoiler alert: The bomb meant to destroy Springfield is lowered into the dome surrounding it on a rope that Homer climbs down in a pathetic attempt to save the town that hates him and tried to lynch him. He deserved it.

So I haven’t had much opportunity to blog this last week, or to keep up with my blog addiction. (Mom only has dial-up. I think I know what methadone therapy must be like now.)

But I had some time to think about some things I’d like to blog about while riding between Little Rock and Bloomington, IN and back. After I can find a way to erase The Simpsons Movie from my consciousness, I’ll try to post some.

Find your own rope. Tie a knot in the end. And hang in there.

As President Schwarzeneggar would say, “I’ll be back.”