Self: Where is Your Soul? - Ron

In Tragedy in the Church, Tozer brings the body of Christ to the forefront and questions its veracity. We would not disagree with what Tozer writes, and certainly not with the small excerpt to which I am referring in this post. However, finishing the reading left me pondering thoughts deep enough for me to begin a post.

The comparison runs simply enough. Scripture tells us that we are the body of Christ. We understand from First Corinthians 12, Romans 12, and other places that the Spirit gives believers gifts and God has a place for each believer in the body. We understand–with the help of Audio Adrenaline, no doubt–that we are to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ out in the world.

As Tozer puts it, “Every true Christian, no matter where he or she lives, is a part of that body…”

It is the end of Tozer’s sentence that caused me to pause and reflect deeply: “…and the Holy Spirit is to the church what our own souls are to our physical bodies.”

The thought struck me: as the church goes, so goes culture (typically). Our culture is obsessed with building soulless replicas of ourselves. Have we become obsessed with building a soulless replica of our worship?

It is easy to look at churches and wonder from where their help truly comes. By and large, church services are ruled by schedules and programs. The messages are planned weeks in advance. The songs are planned. The announcements are even planned (though still we miss them). The buildings are designed for creature-comforts. A telling sign that Douglas Wilson suggests is due to viewing people like consumers rather than souls.

But I don’t want to take the road of pointing out faults in the American church. I feel like there are a lot of people on that road already. Besides, I am responsible for exactly zero churches (or their services). But I am 100% responsible for myself, and if I am honest, the question of soulless worship must begin there. You see, I began writing this blog post more than one week ago, and much can change in a week.

For the first time as a parent, I had a child not speak to me for multiple days. I don’t imagine this is anything outside of the ordinary parental existence. I remember when I thought my dad was enemy number one. But I am also old enough to lament those times.

Always the introspective one, I began searching for faults of mine in this family upheaval that felt–at the time–like a real emergency. As if I imagined my child would truly hate us forever. True to form, I found that I had played multiple villainous roles in the debacle of both parenting and child-ing.

I like control. Which was much harder to type than it should have been.

I want things done a certain way. You might be surprised to know that I typically enjoy things done the way that I do them. After all, if I thought the way that I did something was ineffective or inefficient, I would do it a different way.  For example, I like to put things back where I found them so that I know where they are the next time. I do this with clothes, keys, important documents, books, video game controllers, Blu-ray disc cases, and every other blessed thing that I ever use.

But my family–I love them–does not operate on this elevated plane of existence.

I like to set one alarm each day. When that alarm rings, I fly out of bed ready to start the day. Some in my family–I love them–like to set multiple alarms which begin ringing long before we are required to greet the day. Others like to be told several times a day to get out of bed, which seems to me like disobedience and disrespect after a certain point.

Those are miniscule examples, but enough to get the point, especially if you live with someone that likes things done a certain way. I like control, and my need for control totally overlooked the fact that God has my children in a growth program much like the one that He has me in. I want them to do things my way. I want them to be as grown as me. But God is growing my children, and He is doing it even when they aren’t speaking to me. God is growing my family even when dad is screaming to get out of bed for the third time. 

I know He is growing them because it is His job and responsibility to grow them.

Don’t get me wrong, I know my duty as a dad. But I can’t force my kids to change. I can’t force a love for the Word down my children’s throat and expect anything but a gag reflex. Just like they can’t force me to wake up and spend time with the Lord. I can’t force respect, although I can demand it and provide consequences.

You may be wondering what this post has to do with the beginning few paragraphs. That’s fair. I began noticing that my need for control spills over into my personal walk with the Lord, too. And it took the beginning few paragraphs of this post and a rough week of parenting to find that out.

It is in my personal life that I am not leaving real and active room for God to work. It is in my personal study that I have become so organized that I leave small room for the Spirit to direct me. It is in my own heart that I see deadness of attitude toward worship services, little expectation of the miraculous, and barely a hope to experience God in a real, life-changing way.

It is easy to point to the body at large and ask: “Where is your soul?” It is a harder thing to take the bony finger of judgment and turn it within. To find the courage to ask, “Where is my soul?” is not easy. Maybe that is why it took an upheaval for me to see that God can even work through a pre-planned day-by-day devotional book featuring A.W. Tozer and a stubborn teenager. Because the work is HIS in the first place. And HE will complete it (1 Thessalonians 5:24). He says He will (Philippians 1:6). It will be done (Isaiah 43:13).

I don’t know where you find yourself today. Maybe lamenting a prodigal. God will complete the work He starts. Maybe you are lamenting the death of life-changing worship in your own heart. Tozer also wrote "the average Christian is so cold and so contented with His wretched condition that there is no vacuum of desire into which the blessed Spirit can rush in satisfying fullness." Does that describe you?

God will complete the work, and He can work through the most amazing things. So ask yourself, “where is the ‘soul’ in my walk with the Lord?”

Masculinity: A Soft Shoulder or a Strong Arm? - Stephen

“I don’t like John Wayne. He always played the same part in every movie.”

Living in Texas at the time, I didn’t realize the magnitude of my opinion. But I found out very quickly. 

 

In small-town Texas, John Wayne was not just some actor of the past; he was a man who exhibited the very ideals of what a Western man should be. He was the ideal cowboy. The ideal of the male gender. And, rumor has it, the ideal candidate for any political position in the state—dead or alive. 

 

As with many, masculinity and manhood were not topics to be discussed here but examples to emulate. And this example was illustrated in all of Wayne’s movies…even if it was the same part played: the strong arm of a sheriff, the strong arm of a military general, the strong arm of a rancher, and even the strong arm of a man now in charge of a little girl who wasn’t his own. (See: True Grit – the only Wayne movie I think I have ever seen in its entirety.) 

 

My point is not to argue the accolades of John Wayne but to get to the heart of what masculinity truly is. Truth be told the generation that views Wayne as the ideal man is slowly dying off only to be replaced with another model. 

 

As with every held ideal of the past, the present generations like to swing the pendulum the other direction. And the ideal of manlihood is certainly no exception. 

 

The model man no longer wears a cowboy hat and boots but skinny jeans and a fedora. No longer riding a horse but an environmental-friendly Prius. And no longer is the ideal modeled by a strong arm but a soft shoulder. 

 

Where once the ideal was encapsulated with traits such as leadership, toughness, and unwavering principles in the face of the cruelest villains. Now the traits being held in manly esteem are compassion, gentleness, and an unlimited love for puppies. 

 

That might be a slight stretch but take the 2020 Presidential Election for an example. Do you remember the characterizations of our choices that year between Republican candidate and incumbent, Donald Trump, and Democratic candidate and current president, Joe Biden? The argument was not typically centered on their diverse policy platforms but on their different personalities. 

 

Donald Trump was characterized as a “quick-triggered, feud-dueling, mean Tweeter.” Whereas Joe Biden was carefully portrayed in contrast as a “soft-spoken, grandfatherly unifier.” These descriptive comparisons are not brought out to argue their accuracy specifically but to explore the underlying point when it comes to the two competing ideals of masculinity behind them. 

 

Are the choices of manlihood in our day-and-age truly between these two—a strong arm and a soft shoulder? The answer, I firmly believe, is no. 

 

As with most black-and-white characterizations, there is a middle ground when it comes to the ideal display of masculinity also. And the answer is it comes with both. 

 

True masculinity is not exemplified fully in either one of these one-dimensional examples. The key to being the ideal man is to being like the fullest example we have of such, and, as with most things, that example is Jesus. 

 

A strong arm without a soft shoulder of compassion might give you strong leadership in a time of war but will also present an unmovable force in a time of peace when compromise is not only desired but sometimes necessary for that peace to endure. On the other hand (or arm), a soft shoulder in the time of peace will give you that compromise necessary to help that time to remain but when it breaks down to conflict there is no decisive leadership to be found. 

 

Obviously, I am over-simplifying and characterizing the very things I argued against earlier, but I hope the point is clear: Jesus was both. 

 

In the time He was faced with a woman caught in adultery in John 8, Jesus mutually displayed both of these. He exhibited a strong arm of decisiveness as He wrote on the ground to dissuade the religious leaders full of arrogance and armed with stones of condemnation. Yet, Jesus followed that strong arm with a soft shoulder as he raised the woman awaiting judgment and pronounced, “Neither do I condemn you, Go and sin no more.” 

 

To wrap it all up, let’s conclude with the obvious: masculinity has very little to do with the external portrayals of where you live, what you wear, or the vehicle you start every morning. True masculinity, better yet godly masculinity, is more about wisdom. Wisdom that understands you need both a strong arm and a soft shoulder. Wisdom that can discern when one is needed and the other is not. 

 

A strong arm is necessary when someone is breaking into your home to attack your family, but that same strong arm falls short when your little girl scrapes her knee learning to ride a bike. It is in both moments that we have a choice to make. 

 

In a society seeking to characterize and label masculinity by one dimensional character or another, choose neither. Instead, choose the One who died young, called out sin, yet had grace on those who admitted its weight. 

 

Choose Jesus. And choose both.

Loving Evangelism - Ben

When I say "loving evangelism," you might think, "Is this post about how I can enjoy evangelism more?" And the answer is, "maybe."  If you take what I'm about to say to heart, you might find that evangelism is a blast. But, to be clear, this post is more about evangelism characterized by loving acts rather than how we ought to feel about evangelism.  Because let's be honest, many Christians don't enjoy sharing their faith.  Why?  Well, for me, it's because there are no guarantees in evangelism.  Sometimes the best presentation fails, and the worst succeeds.  Sometimes you're the planter, and other times you're the harvester.  Or, sadly, it feels like sometimes you've done nothing at all.

But one way I’ve found that can help stack the deck in your favor is to show a person that you genuinely love and care for them before trying to force-feed them Jesus.  Too many times, I've got that backward.  I would try to get them to know Jesus before ever getting to know who they really are.

Now, I'm not saying a spontaneous moment where you witness to a stranger is wrong.  Sometimes, God divinely positions you in a specific place and time where all you need do is ask, "Would you like to get saved today?" I once led a Muslim man to Christ in my office at the church.  I had no dealings with him before.  He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. So, yes, you should take the seemingly random opportunities that God gives you to present Christ whenever and wherever you can.  

However, most of our prospects aren't so randomly placed.  Often, the very people we are called to witness to are our friends, family, and neighbors.  These are people who know us better than some stranger.  And the question we should be asking ourselves is, "Do they know I love them?" If not, the odds that they'll listen to you when you want to have a gospel conversation are slim to none.  Jesus said it best in John 13:35, "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” And interestingly, before he ever called Peter to be a disciple, he first healed his mother-in-law.  Loving evangelism is effective evangelism. 

If you have someone that you desperately want to know Jesus, take them out to lunch.  Invite them over to your house.  Have a game night.  Golf.  Do something that gets you two together for an extended period of time, doing something you both enjoy. 

Your relationship with a person might very well become the bridge by which they can cross into a relationship with Christ. 

Not Gooder. Better. - Ron

There's something strange about camp coffee. I don't know if it is a by product of the percolating process or not. What I do know, however, is that the coffee I make while out camping is not as good as the coffee at home, but it is better. 

I think it is mostly the environment. You see, I love camping. There is nothing about camping that I do not like. When I am camping, everything is better. Including the coffee.

Actually I am camping right now. I've been trying to camp since before Thanksgiving but it has never worked out. So I finally took one of my sons and two of his friends camping for just one night. I'm laying in a hammock in the sun. It is 47ﾟand I am writing this on a tablet. I'm listening to my son and his friends laugh while birds sing all around me. I am enjoying enjoying nature. I needed this spiritually, emotionally, and mentally, about as badly as I can describe it.

Anyway, the idea about the coffee being not as good but better got me thinking. It got me thinking about our relationship with Christ. Most every Christ-less religion teaches that you have to be good to get to heaven. There must be some merit of your own worth the entrance fee. 

But the reality is good was never possible for us in the 1st place. At least, not perfectly good. At least, not good enough to meet the requirement; which is perfection.

But Jesus changed all of that. No longer do we have to be good. We actually can be made better when we are in Christ. And so just like the coffee isn't gooder, but it is better, when I'm camping, so too is Ron Young not gooder, but he is better, when he is in Christ.

And you can be made better, too.