ministry

‘Lost’ and ‘Saved’

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

Honestly, I don’t think folks are as interested in being “saved” as they are in having a significant, purposeful life.

I think if we Christians were living significant, purposeful lives that were winsome and loving, we’d have something to talk about without ever resorting to words that hold no meaning or attraction.

“Saved” is a church term that means little or nothing to someone who doesn’t believe, especially if they don’t have a church background.

It may have meant a lot to those using the term in Acts 2 — who were familiar with God’s wrath and prophecy; who felt guilty because they were complicit in the murder of the Messiah — but it doesn’t particularly hold weight today.

I think it would take a long time to set up as a meaningful term, or at least one with which people would identify.

They are already wary of the idea of a wrathful God who judges and damns nearly everyone He made and claims to love; wary of that love that seems conditional upon a litany of specific responses, but no seeming emphasis on continuing to grow better, stop judging others, accept others, forgive others, love more deeply, help others, be generous, etc. It’s not what they see in us.

And “Lost” has long felt like an insult to me. An assessment. A judgment. The very thing we’re specifically told not to do.

It’s a term that sounds like it comes from a place of superiority, even if not earned (or actual!). It’s an instant turn-off.

And “saved” is the flip side of that coin. What does “saved” mean to someone who’s been termed “lost?”

Does “saved”
mean being in the position of moral authority to judge others to be “lost?”

How attractive.

Knowledge and Belief

/ W. Keith Brenton / 3 Comments

I’m never going to discourage study, but you can still believe what’s written in scripture about love, holiness and the nature of God without deeply understanding everything written or implied there.

Once again, here’s my example from John 21: Peter and the ”other disciple” (apparently how John humbly refers to himself) enter the empty tomb and believe Jesus is risen EVEN THOUGH they don’t understand the idea of resurrection described in prophecy and predicted by Jesus.

They didn’t get it.

They believed anyway.

And I keep saying this because of the danger of getting so deeply invested in human interpretations and conclusions drawn from what’s written that we start judging others’ faith and arrogantly call them heretics and exclude them and further divide the body unified by His Spirit.

And I know too well the defense mechanism that says, “Well, there are certain basic principles that we have to all agree on ….”

No.

That way lies judgment, wallbuilding and madness.

Peter didn’t agree with Jesus’ plan to go to Jerusalem and allow Himself to be killed and to rise again. That’s a pretty basic disagreement. But it’s on the foundation of faith like Peter’s that Jesus builds.

Disagree, but don’t divide.

Dialogue.

And don’t forget that, in speaking of Jews and Gentiles, of strong and weak faith, the author of Romans recommends:

“Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” (15:7)

Do you think the people being written to believed everything exactly alike, according to some magically unwritten standard of orthodoxy? What are the odds of that happening? Then? Now? Ever?

You know what we believers can believe and agree on?

What is clearly written in scripture. What Jesus taught. How He lived. Whom He loved. (Hint: Everyone.) That He died. That He lives again.

And if that isn’t enough to give weight to the cosmic importance of loving others as the basis of everything we do — as opposed to judging and hating and condemning — then what would it take to convince us beyond God has already done?

We’re not on this world to sate our greed, to judge and hate others, to divide and destroy.

You don’t even have to study or believe scripture to understand that.

Sermons

/ W. Keith Brenton / 1 Comment

They seem to be the centerpiece of the worship service at church, no matter how long they are or what they’re called: sermons, teachings, messages, homilies.

I’m not sure they should be, but they kind of are by default for almost a couple thousand years now.

I would vote for the eucharist, the Lord’s supper, to take that honor and let Him host and be the center of worship, honor and praise.

But, hey, nobody asked me.

So we surround the sermon with all our other acts of worship (singing, prayers, reading of scripture, etc.), and — like I said — it becomes the centerpiece of the table we surround by default.

And what do we hear?

I attended church from before the time I could think or speak until just a couple of years ago. I think I can fairly say I’ve heard about every kind of sermon imaginable, from the very best to the very worst.

I learned a lot, I’m sure; and some of what I learned, I had to later unlearn — because what I heard was not valid, or helpful, or sometimes just wasn’t true. Occasionally it didn’t even conform to what scripture said, and even rarely contradicted and defied it.

But looking back, I think the very best sermons I heard gave me insight into the life, teachings, example and nature of Jesus of Nazareth.

They conveyed His humanity and divinity, His winsome appeal, His unflagging love for all, and His refusal to judge people while being unflinchingly judgmental about how to speak, act and relate to others in a world that God made and God cares about and God watches over all the time.

Sermons like that made me crave that nature and yearn for that living grace; they challenged me to imitate it in what I do and say with the goal of making it my nature.

I genuinely don’t know how you can preach a gospel sermon without talking about Jesus; He is the very best of all the good news in scripture. I tried preaching for several years, but it is not my gift. When I did preach, I genuinely tried to draw my listeners to the grace of Christ.

To the cross, yes, sometimes; even to the empty tomb. But, you see, that’s what the Lord’s table is for; that’s largely His story to tell in His inimitable way — by living it to death and then living it forever.

I can’t do better than that.

And you see, if that were all there is to His story, we would miss out on the part that makes it whole and full and complete: the incredible life of love and compassion that He lived. That, as much as anything else, is what proves He was/is/will always be the Son of God.

God could have raised anyone from the dead — it’s not like He’d never done it before! But who else but His very own Son could have lived such an exemplary life, seen and communicated the loving grace of heaven so clearly, had the unalterable faith to let mankind do its worst and still speak words of forgiveness?

Sermons come and go. A million every Sunday, maybe, all around the world.

But they are only heard by the people who listen to them; and if those people don’t leave that church inspired to live what they’ve heard, then only words have been spoken. Not The Word, the living Logos, the meaning of what God spoke into existence, the why of being, the purpose of living, the joy of loving, the embodiment of grace.

Well, I’ve rattled on here long enough. If I could live like that, I could still try preaching. But I know there is no credibility in what you say if you don’t practice what you preach.

So I’ve chosen to leave that to others of better qualifications, and just do my best to live up to some poor semblance of the One that I most admire.

They say that’s a sermon too.