Driving Like Jesus

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

As a young Christian, I wasn’t sure how to share my faith. At one point, I made a friend who went to the mall to “witness to people.” While I’m not sure exactly what her plan was, I had some confused feelings about the idea. I felt guilty, because I wasn’t out telling everyone I saw about Jesus and making disciples of all nations. But I also felt uncomfortable with the idea of interrupting strangers in the mall and trying to start a conversation about deep, personal, life changing faith. How do you even begin?! “I see you’ve purchased some items at Bath and Body Works – do you need something to clean up your soul, too?”

God calls each of us to uniquely, and He may not call me to start conversations with strangers, but we are all called to share His love and light with the world – with our world.

Growing up, my family had those metal Jesus fish on the backs of our cars (to let people know that we were Christians AND trendy). Upon purchase of my first car – a very awesome (very used) Jetta, my parents got me my very own fish…but I couldn’t bring myself to adhere it permanently to my trunk. As a bad-yet-very-aggressive driver, my road performance does not suggest that I love my neighbors, and I was aware of the hypocrisy of putting a symbol of my faith on a car I would drive like a heathen.

My love-less driving and lack of fish decals continued comfortably for many years; I shared that story and enjoyed people’s laughter. Driving is just one tiny sliver of my life, but my attitude about it was rather symbolic of other areas I’m less than proud of: I make excuses and justifications for actions and behaviors that are less than what God requires. It seems acceptable to get angry with the cable company, or to grow impatient in grocery store line when the person in front of me has questioned the price of five items before offering up four hundred coupons. Sometimes I judge people I don’t know based on superficial things and use that as an excuse not to get to know them, and I don’t like to call it gossip when I share important information about other people. Perhaps you excuse some behaviors too? (Don’t leave me here all alone!)

Maybe these routine, daily challenges are the very situations where God invites us to be salt and light, to be the aroma of Christ; to act in a way that sets us apart from an unbelieving world.

I was convicted about my driving (though not my lack of Jesus fish) one day when I ran into 1 Corinthians 10:31, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” I’m not sure why driving came to mind, but I did not drive to the glory of God. No one was ever going to lean over through an open car window in traffic and say, “You’re such a patient and generous driver – where do you find that kind of strength in this relentless traffic?” thus allowing me share about our gracious God. Is that a likely scenario? No. But it’s impossible if I drive like I hate everyone.

Do I live my life – especially the regular, routine parts – in a God-reflective, loving way that would make the people I meet ask, “Why is she like that? I wonder what she believes?” Are my actions an invitation for others to see God’s love and grace and desire it in their own lives?! Can my everyday life be set apart from others in the most mundane of moments in a way that is unavoidable to those around me? I want it to!  

“Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits.” (1 Peter 2:12)

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, including humility and patience.]

I < 3 Doubting Thomas

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I’ve always felt kind of bad for “Doubting Thomas.” We don’t get many stories about him, and the one we do get is not very flattering. He gets picked on a bit, and you can almost hear the taunts.

“There goes Thomas, not believing what he can’t see…again.

“Oh Thomas, how could you NOT BELIEVE that a guy came back to life after he died? Pffft, get it together, Thomas.”

Sure, Thomas followed Jesus for several years and saw him perform all kinds of signs and wonders, but Jesus was dead now—how could he perform a miracle after he’s dead?

So I guess I feel bad for Thomas because I am him.

I didn’t follow the earthly, flesh-and-blood-and-sweating-and-eating-and-crying Jesus around for three years, but I have followed the heavenly-have-never-actually-seen-him-but-belive-he’s-there-in-all-his-slightly-confusing glory Jesus for a while now. And even still, I doubt him. I doubt he’ll show up, I doubt he’ll do what he said he would, I doubt he can truly love and forgive like he said he would—the all-encompassing, life-changing love.

So I get Thomas. We’d be pals, I think.

Jesus likely knew this about Thomas when he called Thomas to follow him. Maybe not in quite so specific terms, that Thomas would doubt he’d been raised from the dead and would need to be shown the nail holes and sword piercing, but Jesus probably knew there was something in Thomas that made it hard for him to believe.

But Jesus called him anyway. He called Thomas be one the chosen twelve, let Thomas follow him for three years, and invited Thomas sit at the table with him as he ate his last meal.

This sinner, this doubter—dining with Jesus, ultimately being sent out to carry his name to the world.

Because Jesus knew he could overcome all that. When he appeared to the disciples, Jesus didn’t tell Thomas that because of his doubt he was now excluded from the salvation Jesus had brought about. Jesus simply told Thomas to believe. Jesus showed Thomas, “I am God. I overcame death, and I can overcome any other barrier you try to set up between us.” His death tore a curtain in two, allowing the presence of God to spill out from that inner holy place all over the world. He ripped all the curtains, broke all the barriers that stand between us and him. Even doubters and sinners like me and you.

The Thomas in me so needs this reminder. Following Jesus can be so trying, so wearisome, so full of questions and doubts that it feels like we’ll never find our way back to him—and that even if we did, Jesus wouldn’t want us back. But he does. He wanted Thomas, the guy who doubted a miracle even after he had seen them for years, and he wants each of us, too.

It doesn’t matter how far away from him we’ve run or how looming our doubts have become. Jesus was willing to go to his death for us, and he’s willing to find us, meet us, and bring us back from wherever we are.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]

Amen! So be it!

I’ve been listening to this Matt Maher song a lot this week. In case you don’t have the time or inclination to listen to it, here are the lyrics:

I believe in the son

I believe in the risen one

I believe I overcome

By the power of his blood

Amen

Amen

I’m alive
I’m alive because he lives

Amen

Amen

Let my song join the one that never ends

Because he lives

I was dead in the grave

I was covered in sin and shame

I heard mercy call my name

He rolled the stone away

[Repeat chorus, chorus-y bridge, and then some more chorusing]

This simple song has been my prayer and my reflection during this Passion Week. Passion Week, or Holy Week, refers to the seven days from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. On Palm Sunday, Jesus enters into Jerusalem to shouts of “Hosanna!” On Maundy Thursday, Jesus celebrates the Passover with his disciples and is then betrayed and abandoned by them. On Good Friday, Jesus is paraded around Jerusalem to shouts of, “Crucify him!” And on Easter Sunday, Jesus the Christ rises victorious over the grave, having defeated death and all evil through his work on the cross.

I like the Matt Maher song because of the way the music builds, but also because I like the continued refrain of “Amen”. Loosely translated, “Amen” means “so be it”. There’s a lot of “so be it” during Holy Week.

Jesus enters Jerusalem amidst cries of “Hosanna! Save us!”

So be it.

Jesus breaks bread with his disciples and reveals what he and Judas already know: “One of you will betray me.”

So be it.

In the garden, after dinner, our Lord cries out in agony for another way, but it must be the cross.

So be it.

He is lead before the Sanhedrin, and the chief priests search for evidence against Jesus but can find none. So they spit on him and beat him. Out in the courtyard, Peter denies knowing Jesus. Peter disowns Jesus three times.

So be it.

Jesus is led before Pilate, who can find no reason to convict Jesus of any crimes. The crowds demand Jesus’ crucifixion. “Why?” Pilate asks. “What Crime has he committed?” The crowd’s response: “Crucify him!”

So be it.

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness covers the land. Christ, hanging on the cross, calls out to his father in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and then gives up his life. The temple curtain tears in two, the earth quakes, rocks dissolve, and tombs break open. The Roman soldiers guarding the cross understand now. In terror they exclaim, “Surely he was the Son of God!”

Amen.

I was dead in the grave. I was covered in sin and shame. I heard mercy call my name. He rolled the stone away.

Three days later, an angel comes down from heaven to earth in a violent earthquake to announce the rising of Christ as King of all Kings and Lord of all Lords. Christ’s tomb has broken open and our salvation is won. His death spares us from death’s defeat. His new life promises us new life; a new heaven and a new earth, the Kingdom of God realized anew. I’m alive. I’m alive because he lives. Let my song join the one that never ends. Amen.

Amen. 

[Kristin vanEyk lives in Kentwood, MI and attends Encounter Church. Learn more about Encounter or listen to Sunday's message here.]

What's a Disciple Anyway?

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Some of Jesus’ last words to his followers were the Great Commission, where he told them, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). If I had been there, I think I would have been tempted to stop him and ask for some clarification. What, exactly, did Jesus mean by “disciple?” What were the signs that someone had become a disciple, that they were complete and I could check them off my list and move on to the next person? 

Merriam-Webster defines “disciple” as:
one who accepts and assists in spreading the doctrines of another: as
a :  one of the twelve in the inner circle of Christ's followers according to the Gospel accounts
b :  a convinced adherent of a school or individual

If we apply those definitions to what Jesus called his followers to do—make disciples—our job seems pretty easy. We tell people about Jesus, they become “a convinced adherent of a school or individual” by believing and trusting in Jesus, and on we go to the next person. 

Except that’s not really what Jesus did. Most of his ministry days were spent with the same twelve people, even after they were convinced of who he was. For Jesus, making disciples wasn’t a one-time thing, and I don’t think it is for us either. 

Making disciples isn’t another item on the “Good Little Christian” to-do list, and if we’ve told someone about God we’re good to go. Disciple-making is the continual, slow, good work of being the hands and feet of Christ to all we come into contact with. It can (and should) look like telling people about God, but it’s so much more than that. Making disciples is also about encouraging fellow believers when they are down, it is about showing up when we don’t feel like it, it is about continuing to work out our faith with the people around us long after an initial commitment to Christ. 

It is not flashy, it is not instant, it is not easy. 

It is trustworthy, it is patient, it is enduring. 

Jesus didn’t exchange his disciples every time they didn’t understand what he was up to (which was often). Instead, he stuck with them, slowly showing them what life with him could really look like. We don’t need to be intimidated by the Great Commission, thinking we have to move to another country and be telling hundreds of people a day about Jesus (though that may be what some of us are supposed to do)—instead, we can be part of the work of making disciples, wherever we are. We can invest in others and allow them to do the same for us as we live out Jesus' words together. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]

Daily Bread and American Dream Bread

Ah, the American Dream.

A good job, a spacious home, a white picket fence, a golden retriever, and a new-to-you Honda Odyssey. You can picture the Instagram account, right? If you’re new to Instagram, here’s what you need to know: Instagram is a photo-editing app that many people use on their phones so they can project beautifully edited and filtered photos of the following:

1. Green smoothies in a mason jar (2 c leafy greens, 2 c water or almond milk, 3 c ripe fruit)
2. Organic foodstuffs, like apples, artfully arranged in a hand-thrown ceramic bowl
3. Selfies at the Mumford & Sons concert
4. Kids running through a sprinkler, ducking under drops of water, laughing uproariously 

Here’s my latest Instagram:

Looks pretty good, right? My life must be perfect! I must be a great parent and my kids look like they never fight and they always eat their vegetables.

But here’s the problem with Instagram, and with the American Dream generally: its lifestyle is entirely antithetical to the lifestyle that Christ expects. You know what doesn’t look great on Instagram? Daily bread. Humility. Justice. Sacrifice. Self-control.

The world tells you to rise to your highest level of competence—to achieve to your highest potential.

Christ tells you to die to yourself—to take up your cross and deny yourself.

Now, I don’t mean to mislead you. I use Instagram like so many of you, and I think that if Jesus were living among us, then he would use probably use Instagram too. But what does it look like to project Daily Bread rather than American Dream Bread?

Well, I think it looks a lot like private acts of faithfulness and trust. It looks like Bible reading and prayer and hard conversations with people we love. It looks like responsible living. It looks like practicing self-control with our finances, with our words, with our dinner choices, and with our time. Notice that the life of Christ has many of the same elements present in the American dream—money, friends, conversation, food, pleasure—just on an entirely different scale. It’s measured and valued differently.

If you’re like me, then you might have a hard time getting out of your own way. It’s hard to trust that God will “show up” when you feel that you have all the tools to accomplish your goals on your own. It’s hard to step aside and let God control your life when it seems that you can do a pretty good job of controlling it by yourself. But if you’re like me, then you also know that you might have what you want, but you probably don’t have what you need: Daily Bread, humility, justice, sacrifice, and self-control.

A Different Kind of Radical

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

When I take a step back and look at my life, it seems pretty boring. I go to work, maybe Bible study or an activity with friends, go to sleep, and repeat. Throw in some hanging out with my family, grocery shopping and running errands, church and youth group on Sundays, and my life is pretty well summed up. Nothing about it screams “Radical!” or even “Slightly unusual!” Because from the outside, it’s not.

Sometimes when I hear about people who are living in Africa telling people about Jesus, or who have sold nearly all their possessions to give to the poor, I feel a little guilty. If they’re doing all that for God, then surely whatever I’m doing is meager and petty in comparison. I might as well quit even trying, because I don’t seem to be capable of that kind of radical.

We see the grandiose, dramatic things people do and wonder if they count more for the kingdom of God than our routines full of classes, soccer practice, meetings, and laundry. 

Yet I wonder if our view of “living radically for God” has gotten warped. At its very core, there’s something radical about following Jesus and seeking to live like him. When we look at the messages fed to us each day, many of them encourage us to pursue things for our own ultimate benefit, whether it’s a high-profile job, a glamorous house, or relationships that are all about our own wants and desires. The focus is almost entirely on us and what we can get from things.

 In Luke 9, Jesus calls several different people to follow him, and his comments to them are not exactly supportive. He doesn’t tell them that by following him they will become famous, acquire riches, or even make new friends. Instead, he tells them almost the exact opposite—life with Jesus means being willing to give up all of that. And not just give up what we may already have, but give up the life of pursuing those things to pursue him above all else.

So maybe Jesus’ call to order our lives after him is more radical than it seems. Instead of one big radical moment, what if our lives are made up of a tiny thousand radical moments? Of moments of conscious decision-making to order our lives not as society tells us to or as we ourselves may want to, but ordering it so that everything falls in line with what God tells us to pursue? While jobs, houses, relationships, and many other things can be good, they are not what Jesus tells us is best. He is best. When we seek him, we may find those other things as well, but there is no guarantee. And to seek him above all else, knowing it may cost us what we really want, is, in itself, radical.

It’s not a flashy kind of radical. Living radically in the everyday moments may go unnoticed by most people, but it will not go unnoticed by God. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]

The After Party

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

My daughter Lily has been talking about Heaven quite a bit lately. She loves to hear stories from The Jesus Storybook Bible, which is a kids’ Bible that I highly recommend because it doesn’t shy away from the really hard stories of the Bible, and it always points the readers towards Jesus and his unending love. Because there is so much death and destruction in the Bible, Lily and I have been talking about what happens to us after we die. She has fixated upon a few key heavenly images: notably, the idea that no one gets hurt in Heaven (even when they fall off their bikes) and the possibility that we might not need sleep (so we have more time for eating Lucky Charms and riding our scooters outside).

I love that even someone as young and immature as my preschool-aged daughter can understand the perfection that awaits us in Heaven. The prospect of an eternity with God is absolutely enthralling.

Except when it’s not.

Eventually, as we grow older, we learn to fear death (and feel remorseful about the ones who will grieve after us) and our excitement about an eternity spent praising God can wane. Sometimes we even wonder if it will be…boring.

Whenever I’m having a hard time leaving this life behind for the glories of eternity, I think about some of the images used in the Bible. One of the recurring images is that of a huge party, where all of your favorite people are in attendance, where the music is just right, where the food is abundant, where you can spend time face-to-face with God. Imagine being a child at a birthday party, or having audience with your favorite celebrity, or finally receiving an invitation to an event that you’ve always wanted to attend. Imagine the excitement and the spectacle. Although the very best rendering of celebration here on earth certainly pales in comparison to the actual experience of Heaven, it’s one that helps me to grasp the incredible eternity that awaits us: that God himself would invite us to his party and that he would sit across from us and eat with us.

[Kristin vanEyk lives in Kentwood, MI where she attends Encounter Church with her husband Dirk, and two kids, Lily and Colin. Kristin teaches high school English and otherwise passes the time reading, writing, running, and enjoying all that Michigan's West Coast has to offer.]