What He Means for the World, and What He Means to Me: A Good Friday Revelation

“How do I get saved? How can I make it to Heaven when I die? What can God do for me?” When I was a teenager, I thought that answering these questions was what Christianity was all about. It was a fine position for me to take during most of my high school years. By the end of my first semester in college, though, this egocentric perspective on Christian spirituality became one of the main reasons I became disillusioned with the religion as a whole. I had encountered far too often the negative behaviors and personality traits that this view can engender in Christians if not tempered by humility and empathy for others. Perhaps more importantly, I was convinced that Christians were obliged to believe that a call to individual salvation was the main message of the Bible, and that God's “good news” was that we didn't have to go to Hell anymore if we didn't want to. I thought that this interpretation of the Bible and of God's purposes (as simplified as it is here) was the only viable one. 

The god of individual salvation described above seemed incredibly small to me; the sending of Jesus to ease god's wrath against his own creatures, nonsensical and morally reprehensible. I was only able to come to Christ when that superficial image of god was shattered and replaced by that of a loving Creator who refused to surrender us and the rest of His creation to the forces of sin and death. It was then that I realized that my shallow perception of Christianity was a result, not of the theology itself, but of my own presuppositions and misunderstandings of the nature of God and the atonement. 

From the beginning of my belief in Christianity two years ago, then, I treasured my new life in Jesus. However, it was important for me to place my salvation within the overall grand plan of God to rescue and restore all things through the life, death, resurrection, and second coming of His Son. In my first year as a Christian, this emphasis on Jesus' cosmic significance worked wonders in helping me to develop a sense of awe towards God and to deepen my understanding of how He might want me to work for His Kingdom. But in the process, an aspect of my faith that should have grown alongside my appreciation for God's Lordship fell a bit by the wayside. I became so wrapped up in what Jesus meant for the world, that I came close to forgetting about what he meant to me. 

It took the singing of a hymn at last year's Good Friday service to jog my memory. With my theology as centered around the Resurrection as it is, Good Friday takes backseat only to Easter morning in importance for my faith. It was my first Good Friday as a mature Christian. I was anticipating shedding a tear or two during that service out of gratitude for Jesus' sacrifice. When I turned the hymnal to the right page, though, I had no idea of the impact that “Beautiful Savior” would have on me. It's an old hymn, dating back to the 17th century by an unknown author. Its lyrics are stuffy here and there, its use of language higher than I would normally prefer. (Like most people, too many “thee”s and “thou”s tire me out.) 

By the second verse, I was choking back tears, and singing the rest of the hymn became an uphill battle. The last verse remained unsung, at least by me. And that was okay. I was already perfectly familiar with the content about Jesus' sovereignty and glory and honor. This was an important message for the service, but it wasn't the one God needed me to hear then. To some degree, I had lost sight of the amazing things that God had done for me since my conversion, of how much He had changed my life for the better. At that moment, I was profoundly grateful for the spiritual path that He had guided me on that led to His Son, and for the humbling prospect of living out the rest of my days as his disciple. I felt an enormous surge of love toward this Jesus, a man purer and more beautiful to me than anything in creation. I felt deeply cared for, safe, and enveloped in love. Having God in my life, I realized, was the best thing that's ever happened to me. 

It remains the time that I've felt the presence of God in my heart the strongest. I'm convinced, though, that it didn't happen just so that I could have a pleasant spiritual experience. I had been incredibly cautious not to domesticate God or center our relationship on what I could get out of Him. But God wanted to remind me that His love for me as an individual was every bit as all-encompassing as it was for the world. His plans to rescue and restore His creation were no less important to Him than saving and being in relationship with me. By maintaining a balance between His cosmic and personal Lordship, God was telling me, I could benefit from both in abundance during my faith walk with Him. God is the Lord, the Savior, the Father of all, the joy and peace of the world. But never again will I neglect Him as my Lord, my Savior, my Father, and my joy and peace. My life. My God.  

"Beautiful Savior"

Beautiful Savior,

King of Creation,

Son of God and Son of Man!

Truly I'd love Thee,

Truly I'd serve Thee,

Light of my soul, my Joy, my Crown.

Fair are the meadows,

Fair are the woodlands,

Robed in flowers of blooming spring;

Jesus is fairer,
Jesus is purer;

He makes our sorrowing spirit sing.

Fair is the sunshine,

Fair is the moonlight,

Bright the sparkling stars on high;

Jesus shines brighter,
Jesus shines purer,

Than all the angels in the sky.

Beautiful Savior,

Lord of the nations,

Son of God and Son of Man!

Glory and honor,

Praise, adoration,

Now and forevermore be Thine!

On Leadership and Some Challenges of the Church

Note:  I wrote the following post as part of a requirement for a seminary scholarship. The essay prompt was:  "In 750 words or less, please describe what the word “leader” means to you. How does this definition shape your ability to collaborate with others and engage the gospel? How will your leadership skills and experiences be of distinct use in addressing the most significant challenges and opportunities for the ELCA in the next 10 years?" This is a version that was a bit more than 750 words, and I feel like I barely scratched the surface of the issues. But since I was  satisfied with the way it turned out, I saw no reason not to publish it here. 

The concept of good leadership is one that was very nebulous in my mind until recently. Like love, it was something that I could point to when I saw it and be aware of when it was absent from a situation. But it took seeing an advertisement on the side of a public bus a few weeks ago to begin to articulate and organize many of the ideas I had about it. The slogan for a new campaign by a local New Jersey college, the ad read:  “Our greatest strength is helping you find yours.” Of course, the slogan isn't a perfect fit for a definition of leadership. But it was a great help to have that simple, eight-word sentence in the forefront of my mind as I tried to articulate a conception of good leadership characterized not by egotism, aggression, or a sense of superiority, but by a commitment to serve others. 

At its foundation, that commitment is about bringing out the very best in the people we serve:  their gifts, their love, and their hope. It's about encouraging people to know that they're an integral part of the group, building their confidence, helping them to see the gifts and strengths that God has blessed them with and areas where they can contribute. Leaders and members of a congregation are not alone in their efforts and in the work that they do. Ideally, if they are led by the Holy Spirit, it is God working through them, using their abilities and passions to do His will. 

For this to truly be the case, they must strengthen their faith and grow in their relationships with God and with others. Spiritual leaders can and should attempt to play a role in these journeys of faith. Through administering the sacraments, through pastoral counseling, and through joyful and effective preaching of the Word, parishioners can be reminded of the hope that they have within them, of God's restorative and healing love, and of the certainty that the work they do out of love for God and for neighbor is not in vain. They can then bring these truths out into a world in sore need of them. 

It's no secret that Lutheranism, as well as organized Christianity in the US as a whole, are facing great obstacles in helping to bring about God's will for the world. Unlike the tribulations of the early Church, however, which faced persecution, violence, and exclusion and seemed to come out the stronger in spite of them, we face much more elusive enemies:  disillusionment and apathy. Many Americans have seen the human weaknesses and flaws of individual Christians or of communities and have concluded that they want nothing to do with organized religion. “What has religion given mankind other than war, intolerance, and division?” they often ask. Even if they don't have a strong negative opinion of the Church, many people that I've engaged in conversation with, when faced with what they admit may be reasonable arguments for the existence of God or the resurrection of Christ, have replied that they simply don't care one way or another what the truth is. Either it has no bearing on their lives whether a supreme being exists, or they believe that we can't possibly know what God is like and what kind of relationship he wants to have with us. If he wants anything, who's to say he doesn't want us to be Muslim, or Buddhist? 

And in many ways, I don't blame people for holding these positions. In my life, I've held every single one of them. I've experienced crises of faith, have asked the difficult questions about God and reality, have been overly skeptical, have had bouts of apathy and agnosticism. And I've come out on the other side of all these things secure in my faith and in my love for the Lord. My own spiritual journey, as well as countless positive interactions I've had with those who were wary of the Church or doubtful of God, have helped me to see the proliferation of the “Nones” and the increasing secularization of America not as the beginning of the end of Christianity, but as a challenge and opportunity to help God's light shine into the world until His Son's return. 

This will only be possible with hard work, outreach, and constant evaluations of how we can best serve and love our neighbors. Christian leaders must therefore struggle against aloofness and isolation from non-Christians. They must be empathetic and willing to understand that people have difficult questions, and to realize that those who are unsure about God or organized religion are not evil or necessarily rebellious. As leaders, we can't shut ourselves off from doubts and concerns, whether they be from parishioners or people in the wider community. Nor can we resort to giving answers that only serve to appease our own assumptions or world views. We must love in deed and in truth and be active not only amongst our congregations, but in the wider community and in domestic and international missions. Acknowledging differences between denominations and strains within Christianity, we must nonetheless avoid schism and suspicion. In summary, we must turn what many people (including myself at one time) see as the Church's weakness, ie that it is made up of imperfect human beings, into its strength. 

Ultimately, the future of the Church is in the hands of God. But as Christians we stand in the shadow of Jesus' Great Commission. He placed the responsibility to go out into the world and make disciples of the nations not only on religious leaders, but on all of us. The task of helping to build God's Kingdom, of spreading His Gospel and His love, needs as many hands as it can get. As a potential future leader of Christ's Church, my hope is that I will be able to bring some of those hands together, for the glory of God.