The King has Arrived

We celebrate royalty. We celebrate it in many forms. There's the Royal Family, who are popular even among those not citizens of their country. And although they might not have the official title of king or queen, there's also pop royalty (actors, singers, etc.). However, many royal titles ascribed today and just that: titles. The title has no immediate impact on my life. I can read about them from afar, watch them on TV, even enjoy them immensely, while also moving on at any point I choose. This is a very superficial royalty.

If a member of our pop royal classes somehow loses their king- or queen-ship my and your life goes on much the same as it has. No real, lasting impact. If it's 3am, and my world is collapsing in on itself, chances are I can't call [royal person] and ask for help. If I was altogether lost, then I would probably need to look elsewhere. 

Jesus is said to serve as king, but his kingship functions much differently. If Jesus is our king, then we have a changed loyalty and our lives are directly affected by his reign.

If Jesus is our king, then our loyalty is to him in such a way that he directs our lives. No longer to be driven by whatever impulse comes over us, we are to move in the same direction that Jesus moves. And this is not out of a sense of fear, as if we were following a tyrant. It's out of love. "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." (John 14:15) We are to do the things he, our king, says because we love him. We love him, and others, because he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

Also, our lives are directly affected by his reign. If you are a member of a kingdom, and for some reason lose your king, then you are, in a way, lost. As a citizen of that kingdom, there is no longer anyone to give your citizenship direction or meaning. You then are at the mercy of whoever is the next king. Jesus, as our king, rules over all powers and authorities. Everything is subject to him (Ephesians 1:22, 23). Even if the world as we know it passes away Jesus will still rule as king.

We wait on many things during this time of year. One thing we no longer need to wait on is for our king to arrive. We have someone faithful and true to whom we can be loyal. We can trust that, now that he has arrived, his reign will never be shaken. With Jesus as our king we can never be lost again.

He Came Down: An Advent Message

What follows is (roughly) the text from a sermon I preached this past Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent.

Presence makes a huge difference. When my wife and I got married, for many obvious reasons, it was important that I was present. Skype would not have worked that day. When it comes to our loved ones we would much rather see them face to face, rather than talk over the phone. Presence is personal and powerful. We are moving into the time of year when Christians around the world are anticipating and celebrating God's presence coming down to dwell with us. He came down, in the person of Jesus, to give us his presence.

We can even see the power of God's presence coming down in the life of Moses. Let's look at one of, if not the, most pivotal moment in Moses' life. God's presence set the tone for Moses' life. He came down, and Moses was never the same. 

Exodus 3 gives the account of Moses coming to the wilderness and encountering God. Many people will remember the famous burning bush scene. In the first verse we find that Moses travels to the "west side of the wilderness." (NASB) The word for "west" could many several things, such as "far", "behind", or "after". Moses is out there. When you get to the wilderness you know you have gone a great distance. Moses is in "can't get there from here" territory. Such a contrast from one who was raised by pharaoh's daughter (see Exodus 2). Maybe you feel you are on the far side of life. Sometimes God strips us of distractions and brings us to the wilderness to meet with us. We can't know if Moses thought he was going out there to meet with God, but we know what ended up happening.

In verses 2 and 3 we come to the burning bush. Moses sees that the bush is burning, and that it is not consumed by the fire, and then decides that this is too amazing to pass by. The miracle wasn't that there was fire, or that there was a bush that was on fire. Moses had undoubtedly seen these things before. The miracle was in the bush not being consumed. This was something altogether different, as evidenced by Moses' reaction: "I must turn aside now and see this marvelous sight." He wouldn't have turned aside for anything ordinary. I think there are some important principles for us to take away from this. 1. Do we have eyes to see the marvelous things of God? When I journal and ask God for help, so often I don't see how God took care of me later. I didn't have eyes to see how he came through. 2. If we encounter the marvelous things of God, do we then turn aside/change our direction, or do we continue in the way we are going? To come to an experience with God is to reach a crossroads. And reaching the crossroads necessitates a choice: do we turn towards what God is doing, or do we turn our own way? It's a good question to ask when we read the Bible. What am I going to do about it? 3. When outsiders hear of the things going on within our church are they compelled to turn aside and come see what is going on? We can't expect people to turn aside for something ordinary. Ask yourself, would you turn aside if you knew you were coming to an ordinary experience?

Now we come to verse 4. I don't believe in coincidences. One area that I especially don't believe in coincidences is language. The language of Moses' response indicates his readiness to listen. This wasn't, "Yeah, I'm here, whatever." This was, "Yes, I hear you and I am ready and waiting for what you have to say." It seems as if Moses knew something important was going on here.

In verses 5 and 6 Moses is taught something of God's holiness. The place on which Moses was standing wasn't holy because there was a burning bush. It wasn't holy because of something it possessed in and of itself. The place was holy because of God himself. The physical building of a church is special because we recognize that when we gather together for worship as one, unified body of believers, that God's presence is there. It's not in bricks and mortar. If our church was built with the finest of materials, but the builders decided that it should remain empty, only something to look at, then it would seem silly wouldn't it? Notice, also, that Moses is only able to approach God on God's own terms. His holiness is such that he gets to determine the nature of our relationship. Now, on the one hand, this seems unfair. It sounds too controlling, and restrictive, doesn't it? Certainly, we would have a hard time believing in and following a God who left the relationship there. I know I would. But God doesn't leave us in this situation (Hebrews 4:16).

Next, God begins to give Moses a clearer picture of who he is. It's unclear how much Moses knew about God or what their relationship was up to this point, but it would appear that Moses needed God to clarify who was speaking to him. God says, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." Now, Moses was descended from Jacob. What God is telling Moses is that the same God whom his descendants followed is the same God who is speaking now. This adds legitimacy to what God is going to tell Moses. This isn't going to be a different revelation than what his family has known, but a fuller one. This apparently carried some weight with Moses, because look at how he reacts next: "Then Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God." Again, it would seem that Moses knew he was before God on God's on terms. If you would like to take a quick test of where you are spiritually, ask yourself how you approach God. Do you approach him casually, as if you're the one in control and God is waiting for your command? Do you approach him out of pride, acting as though you deserve to stand before God and you deserve to have your requests heard and met, and you're doing God a favor by speaking to him? Or, do you approach God with an attitude of humility? "God, thank you. Thank you for meeting with me and being present with me. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for making a way for me to approach you." How do you approach God?

Now, let's pause, in case anyone has wanted to say, "Look, Caleb, Thanksgiving was last week. We even went Black Friday shopping. We are already in December. Caleb, where is Christmas? What do Exodus, Moses, and a burning bush have to do with Christmas?" I think the answer to that is in the next few verses.

God tells Moses, "I have surely seen the affliction of my people..." God is telling Moses that the plight of his people is not hidden from him. And, what's more, although the peole were oppressedin Egypt, they ultimately didn't belong to the Egyptians. Think of some struggle that you've had. Wasn't there a time when it felt as if your struggle owned you; when it felt as if your struggle was dogging you, driving you into the ground? This is part of the nature of sin. Often it's our own sins, but it could be the sin of others. Wherever the struggle comes from the truth is the same: what's oppressing you only has as much ownership of you as you're willing to give it. You say, "But Caleb, how can this be? You don't know about the struggles I've had." And right you are. I don't know. But catch this: 400 years of slavery and oppression - consider how many people were born during that time who only knew slavery and oppression - was not enough to wrestle ownership of the Israelites away from God. "My people" he calls them. If you're weighed down by sin and circumstances, take heart in those two little words: my people. God is aware of what you're going through. He has done something about it in the past, he is doing something about it now, and he will still do something more about it in the future. This is the climax that we've been building to. He hears the cries of his people, and he does the most amazing thing: he came down.

In verse 8, God says, "So I have come down..." The God of the universe. The one true God. The holy and perfect God. God in all his power, majesty, and glory. He hears his people. He looks down from heaven and sees what is going on. With the flick of a finger, or let's be real, with the faintest of whispers, he could have blown the Egyptians right off the map and handed their kingdom over to his people. But that wasn't enough for God. Listen to what he says: "So I have come down." Such a very personal thing to say. He's saying, "I'm going to come down and take care of this myself." He knew how his people were being oppressed and driven into the ground and he came down to put an end to it himself. The very presence of God in the midst of their struggle. God heard his people and came down. And isn't that, in a way, what we are now beginning to celebrate during this time of year? God himself came down to dwell among us. Matthew 1:23 (referencing Isaiah 7:14). Immanuel. Not "God in some far of place." Not "God keeping his distance." God with us. John 1:14. Jesus gave up heaven to live among us. The next time you look around and think, "What an awful world we live in" remember: Jesus gave up heaven for this. And why? This is what really makes it good. Much more than coming down to deliver us from some earthly power or rule, Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). That's why he came down. Ultimately, that's why we celebrate Christmas. We celebrate that God himself came down, as Jesus, to put an end to, to destroy, sin and death: the ultimate oppressors.

Now, I know that won't sell many Hallmark cards: "Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil. Merry Christmas!" But folks, isn't that what we need? We desperately need him to come down and change us from the inside out. If he doesn't, we'll destroy each other and then when no one is left, we'll destroy ourselves. We don't need more finger pointing, or gloating, or pride, or selfishness, or hate. We need him to come down and put an end to sin, which is driving us into the ground.

To be sure, it is good and healthy to remember and recognize that Jesus was once a baby. But I really believe that truly anticipating Christmas and celebrating it means remembering why he became a baby in the first place. He came down to Moses, and Moses was never the same. And as for me, I am an example and a testimony that he came down, and saved a sinner. I'll never be the same. He came down, and we'll never be the same. 

On Ferguson and Injustice

May the God of peace have mercy on us. 

Last night was a somewhat normal night in the Bittler household. Dinner, Netflix, doing dishes, giving our boy a bath, then to bed. We don't have cable and as our night played out I just didn't get on social media. 

Fast forward to about 5:30am. I get up to change our boy's diaper, then hand him off to my wife to be fed. I climb back into bed, expecting to go back to sleep, but first I hop on Twitter. It doesn't take long to figure out that I got locked into my own little world and I forgot about Ferguson. 

Ferguson. I type the word and stare at the screen for a little while. No matter what side you're on (and I think there are more than two) there's no denying that Ferguson shows us that all is not well. Something is terribly wrong with how we view and live in the world. There's crime, yes. But there is also racism (in many forms), stereotyping, indifference, pride, and, in general, injustice. And no one group is to blame. 

I carry some of the blame, though. You ask how? I forgot about Ferguson. As I said before, I was locked into my own world last night and forgot about what was going on. Maybe that's one of the greatest injustices: we can catch a clip on the news, spout off a rant or two on Twitter, and then flip the switch and move on. Forget all about it. Go back to enjoying my wife and boy. 

My boy. What will he learn from situations like this? Sure, we're a long way from that, but I have to wonder. I'm privileged in that it is unlikely he will grow up fearing the police. But who will he grow up fearing? Our neighbors? His classmates? His teachers? Who will he build stereotypes against? I have to wonder. 

I'm not sure how to feel about Ferguson. For many reasons, I'm far removed from that place. However, I think one of the greatest injustices I could do is to stick my head in the sand and act indifferent. For my part, I want to teach our boy to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God to the very best of his ability. I want injustice, in any form, to matter to him. 

May Christ return soon to right all these wrongs. 

A "Slow Church" for Fast Times

What follows is a review of Slow Church by C. Christopher Smith and John Pattison.

Why? Slow Church resonated with me. I feel the pressure of trying to live a fast paced life. I feel the pressure to try to keep up with the world and its quest for speed and efficiency. I feel the pressure as the desire for speed and efficiency keeps claiming more ground in the local church. So, hopefully, this will be a helpful tool for you to gauge whether or not Slow Church will resonate with you.

What was refreshing to me about Slow Church was the sense of patience that kept coming through. Slow Church's call is not a call to become the church quickly. It is a call to be patient enough to enter into conversation and presence with others. I doubt that if you adopt the conversations and practices from Slow Church change will come quickly. We're talking about changing a culture, and that takes time. A lot of time. 

I could go through the book, chapter by chapter, and pick out all the great things I gleaned, but instead I'm going to offer just a few highlights.

You can read in the introduction that Slow Church takes a cue from the Slow Food Movement begun the 1980s. This movement pushed back against the idea of fast food, and advocated slow food as a way to preserve culture, patience, and being present with others.  (See also http://www.slowfood.com/) There is also push back against McDonaldization. Smith and Pattison credit sociologist George Ritzer with this term, which means "the process by which the principles of the fast-food restaurant are coming to dominate more and more sectors of American society as well as the rest of the world." (see the introduction, p. 13) It is sobering to consider that maybe McDonaldization is a force that has begun to influence the church. What do you think? Do you see an unhealthy desire for speed and efficiency in our churches? Do you see an unhealthy desire for our churches and people to all look and act the same?

The book is divided into three courses:  ethics, ecology, and economy. Smith and Pattison describe these as "meals" which are meant to be taken in together; they are each related. This also gives you a great way to take little pieces (or bites?) of the book and savor them as you discuss them with others.

Ethics includes chapters on terroir (referring to place), stability, and patience.  The last chapter in this section is one of my favorites: patience. I think this was my favorite of this section for two reasons: first, I'm a very restless person. I can get very anxious and have a hard time being in the moment. This leads to the second reason: this chapter challenged me to be present in the moment and with others. We live in a world that doesn't want us to be present. We must always be on the move. What a refreshing call to slow down and be present in the moment; to see God as working in all the moments that we might think of as mundane. Patience also helps us to suffer with others. Our world would convince that suffering should be avoided at all costs. But, patience would teach us that suffering with others, being present with them in it, is following in the way of Christ.

 Now the second course of ecology: wholeness, work, and sabbath. Sabbath was the favorite of this section. Sabbath is such a vital practice in our lives, yet it is one of the most over looked practices. The world would teach us that we can't observe sabbath. There's not time for that. Practicing Slow Church means that we will believe that there is time for sabbath and God is enough for us. We should push back against the belief that we are unable to, or shouldn't, enter into God's rhythm of rest.

The third course is economy and includes chapters on abundance, gratitude, and hospitality. God abundantly provides for us; for our individual needs and for collective needs. He gives us all we need in order to go out into the world on mission. Slow Church calls us to push back against the myth of scarcity and trust that God has provided, is providing, and will provide. That leads to gratitude. A slow church is a thankful church. Let's be thankful for what God gives (resources, people, etc.). Let's show the world that we are a thankful people. And then hospitality. Our belief in abundance and our gratitude should spill over into our churches being hospitable places. Slow Church causes me to ask, "How am I seeking ways to be hospitable to others, both in my own life and within the life of my church?"

The book ends with a call to practice being in conversation with others: those inside our churches and those outside. So much of what we do as a church relies on our ability to have conversations with others. I'm challenged to create more spaces in my life for just that. Not as a tool, but as a way to simply be present with others.

Does any of this resonate with you? Do you feel the pressure to adopt the world's desire for speed and efficiency? Read Slow Church and enter into the conversation.

Shortest Blog Post Ever (maybe)

Together for the Gospel has been a great conference and I have been challenged and encouraged by some wonderful teachers. I must confess, however, that it is difficult to fight off envy. These men are so spirit filled and intelligent. It is hard not to wish for what they have; hard not to wish for something clever to say. 

Which brings me to this morning's conviction: am I reading your word for you, or so I can have something clever to say. 

Ouch. I confess it. Sometimes that is how I approach the word. Our challenge is to listen for what God is telling us for his sake; for his glory. Not so we can be found clever or build a platform for our book. That is all I think I should attempt to say this morning, and get back God, and only God. 

Am I Iron?

I'm on a church bus rolling down the old goat paths, er, interstates of Kentucky on my way to the Together for The Gospel (T4G) conference in Louisville, KY. I've never attended this before, but am looking forward to some solid teaching from some well known preachers I've followed for some time now. 

As I look around the bus and eaves drop on the multiple conversations Proverbs 27:17 runs through my head: Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. (ESV) Certainly not a profound, earth shattering thing to think about in this situation. We are mostly pastors from West Virginia and most of the conversation tends toward church life. 

However, what keeps coming up in my mind is this: am I iron? I look around this bus and I see a lot of heavy metal. Lots of ministry experience, but more than that a lot of life experience. This bus is full of men who have been there. A lot of these guys are on the frontier of following Christ, right on the front lines. They are most certainly iron. 

But am I? Are you? If someone rubbed up against me would they be sharpened? It's so easy to roll through life just trying to make it. Sometimes I think that's right where the Devil wants us, in that place where we are merely surviving.

If I am only looking to my own concerns, only desiring to make it, then I am not iron. I've softened myself. I can't sharpen someone and have much less of a chance of being sharpened myself. 

I think being iron takes work. It takes vulnerability. It takes seeking the good of others first. "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." Philippians 2:3, 4. 

Great opportunities are put in front of us to be iron, to sharpen and be sharpened. Let's have eyes and ears and heart for them. 

The "Hellish Devil's Drink" We Call Coffee

Must credit David Fitch ( @fitchest ) for posting this gem by Jeremy Postal to Twitter.

Today's bizarre bit of history: if I were to ask you what drink the church had at one time labeled a "hellish Devil's drink" you would most likely guess some form of alcohol, right? Well, oddly enough, coffee owned this distinction for a time.

What?! You mean my morning elixir isn't the saintly drink I thought it was? Well, at least not, at one time, in the church's view. Perhaps even more odd was that apparently the church questioned why good Christians should abandon their ales for coffee...now there's something that won't preach today! :)

Also worth noting, according to Postal, as coffee gained popularity in Europe, it wasn't so much the coffee that people were after, as much as it was community. People were attracted to the common ground created by the new coffee houses. They were places for free thinking and gathering. Free thinking and gathering that sometimes ran counter to the dominant culture. Try viewing your local Starbuck's through this lens. Could you see the people lounging there as free thinking rebels on the verge of starting an uprising? That was sometimes how the church viewed these new coffee drinkers.

The next gem I find in this video is this quote attributed to Pope Clement VIII after tasting coffee for the first time: "This Satan's drink is so delicious that it would be a pity to let the infidels have exclusive use of it. We shall cheat Satan by baptizing it." When was the last time you thought you were cheating Satan by enjoying that morning cup of coffee? Me neither.

And this leads Postal to ask some questions (I love this): "What happened to the free thinkers? What happened to the subversive, counter-cultural ideas? What happened to the kind of people who made the people with the power uneasy?" If coffee was at one time a drink for "rebel rousers" then what happened? Folks, what if we viewed the spaces around our coffee pots at church as places where ideas could meet and flourish? What if we viewed those places as spaces where there was opportunity for new frontiers to be explored?

Am I advocating change for the sake of change? Not even a little. But what ideas have you buried deep because you couldn't find a safe place to share them? What questions have you not asked because you could not find the right setting or atmosphere? What if you found that place around a coffee pot at your church? Let's build these spaces! Let's build some space for the free flow of ideas and discussion. Let's set each other loose to explore the rugged frontier that is a life lived to God. Let's stop expecting everyone to come and sit quietly, without saying a word.

The last little nugget that I found in this video, a quote: "Our coffee is safe and our churches are safe. That's why revolutions won't happen. We need a disruption." Again, I don't believe in change just for the sake of change. But, let's ask ourselves this: in our own context of following God, if there is a disruption needed, do we currently have spaces where it could be explored and discussed?

There's a coffee pot that sits on my desk in my office. If you've got a minute and would like to share some ideas, drop in and I'll pour you a cup. Let's be "rebel rousers" together!