Award-winning author and teacher John Koessler's podcast looks at God, the church, and life in general from the perspective of someone who knows what it feels like to be at the edge of the lunch table where all the cool kids sit. After more than four decades of following Jesus, John still feels like a stranger in the house of God.
Faith & Stupid
Recently, I had to make a decision. Not life-changing but significant enough to require some thought. It also involved money. Not that much, but still, it was money. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken me a few minutes. What gave me pause was that this decision had to do with a goal that I have been working toward for several years and have not quite achieved. I wondered whether it was time to throw in the towel. Actually, what I really wondered was what God thought about it. Was He saying, "John, keep it up. You'll achieve your goal eventually." Or was He shaking His head because I hadn't figured out that it is a dead-end? How many disappointments does it take to realize that God wants us to move on? To put it another way, what's the difference between faith and stupid? How does one tell the difference between persistence in faith and stubborn refusal to acknowledge that God is not behind your agenda?
After meditating on this question for several days, I did what any theologically reflective person would do. I posted the question on social media. What struck me was how certain many of those who responded seemed to be. They made it sound easy. The difference was a matter of humility, someone said. It was merely a question of discerning whether you were seeking to glorify God or yourself another proposed. Or it was a simple question of guidance. All you have to do is follow the leading of the Holy Spirit. Some seemed to point to circumstances as the deciding factor. You move forward until you have to stop. Others sounded as if the solution was more a matter of paying closer attention to an inner feeling of some kind.
Who Are You Calling Stupid?
Perhaps they are all right to some degree. But one thing is clear to me. The difference between faith and stupid is not as apparent as one might think. To the unbeliever, faith looks like stupid, and to the believer, stupid sometimes looks like faith. For this reason, the best place to begin is with a definition. Faith, on its most fundamental level, is simply taking God at His word. Faith is an exercise in trust, and the effectiveness of faith depends entirely on its object. Place your faith in an unreliable person or an undependable object, and it makes little difference how firmly you believe. You will still be disappointed in the end.
According to this definition, the primary difference between faith and stupid is a matter of presumption. Stupid is a conviction that goes beyond God. Likewise, stubbornness is what stupid looks like when we apply it to action. Stubbornness is perseverance that is misdirected. We keep moving but in the wrong direction. Yet, like Peter, when he attempted to dissuade Jesus from taking the path that would lead to the cross, we are convinced that we are acting in God's interest (Matt. 16:21–23).
The difference between faith and stupid is a matter of presumption.
If stupid sounds harsh to modern ears, perhaps we would prefer the Bible's term for this, which is "folly." It sounds more elegant, but it's really no better. Among other things, folly's most fundamental characteristic is its lack of common sense. "Even as fools walk along the road, they lack sense and show everyone how stupid they are," Ecclesiastes 10:3 complains. The fool ignores the obvious. The signposts are there, but the fool doesn't bother to consider them. He prefers to go his own way. It can be hard to discern the difference between persistent faith and stubborn refusal because we are prone to folly. Like Peter, our natural bent is to be of the wrong mind. We often replace God's concerns with our own.
The Cure for Folly
The good news is that there is an antidote for stupid. The cure for folly is wisdom,
Aging as Letting Go
Since I retired, I find myself saying no to things that I once would have been eager to take on. I am not doing the things I thought I would do. Some of those things are no longer of interest to me. Others have grown more difficult, and I am either unwilling or unable to expend the energy. It is unnerving. I find that I am disappointed with myself for the things I no longer want to do and disappointed with God for the things He has not permitted me to do. Change is disorienting. Those stages associated with aging are also disquieting because they usually involve the laying aside of tasks and identities that we have carried with us for decades, perhaps for most of our lives. How are we to think about ourselves now that we are no longer what we once were?
Why We Need the Church
I began to follow Jesus seriously in the 1970s. Back then, I thought of it as a decision. “I have decided to follow Jesus,” I sang. “No turning back, no turning back.” But over time, I came to realize that it was more a case of Jesus drawing me after Him. I worked the midnight shift at a fast-food restaurant and started reading the Gospels during my breaks. Their stories of Jesus calling the disciples to drop everything and follow Him caught my attention and eventually captured my heart.
In the early days of my new life, it didn’t dawn on me that church was also part of the package. Our family didn’t attend and now that I thought of myself as a Christian, it seemed unnecessary to me. I had Jesus and the Bible. I had made friends with others who shared my faith. Why ruin it all by adding church into the mix? I had visited a few churches in the past. With its unfamiliar people and odd music, the experience was more uncomfortable than anything else. We stood and sat. Stood and sat. And then a man got up and lectured us about things I didn’t really understand. But after I became a follower of Jesus, I started regularly attending because someone told me that it was what Christians do. The music was still strange to me, but the lectures made more sense now that I was reading the Bible. I have been going to church ever since, though not always with enthusiasm. The music and the people still seem odd to me at times. But I have come to see the church as an essential part of my Christian life.
What is the Church?
We often talk about the church as if it were a location. We say we are “going to church.” We point to a steepled building that we call “the church on the corner.” We think of church as a place we go to worship. But the Bible speaks differently. On the one hand, in 1 Corinthians 11:18, the apostle Paul describes how the Corinthian believers “come together as church.” According to this, church is something we do. It is the act of coming together as those who worship and follow Jesus Christ. On the other hand, the apostle also speaks of church as an identity. Church is what we are. It is a community of those who belong to Christ. For example, later in his letter, Paul brings greetings from Aquilla and Priscilla, two of his friends and colleagues, and from “the church that meets at their house” (1 Cor. 16:19). This is the same letter that he addresses to “the church of God in Corinth” (1 Cor. 1:2).
So a church is not a building but an assembly of believers. A church is a community of faith. When you read Paul’s references to the church in the New Testament, you find that he sometimes refers to it in the singular and at other times in the plural. He speaks of “the Church” and also of “the churches.” These are the church’s two primary modes. One is broad, and the other is narrow. On its most expansive level, there is only one Church made up of all believers, at all times, and in all places. This church is not confined to what is seen. It spans heaven as well as earth and includes both the living and the dead. It is also evident from the way Paul writes that there are many churches. This is the other mode of the church. It is local and consists of individual congregations made up of those who profess faith in Christ. These local assemblies each have their own distinctive make-up, personality, and style and may sometimes differ on points of doctrine or practice. As a result, the New Testament can speak both of the Church and the churches without contradiction.
Irenaeus, the second-century bishop of Lyons, characterized the church as “a paradise in the world.” The book of Acts provides a snapshot of what life was like in the early church. According to Acts 2:42, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fello
Keeping the Cross in View
According to Charles Dickens, after being visited by three spirits, Ebenezer Scrooge was a changed man. Terrified by the specter of his death, Scrooge made this solemn promise to the ghost of Christmas yet to come: "I will honor Christmas, and try to keep it all the year." At the close of his tale, Dickens says that Ebenezer Scrooge "knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man possessed the knowledge."
For some reason, we never talk this way about Easter. When Christmas comes around, we remind ourselves of the need to observe it all year like old Scrooge. We celebrate the Christmas spirit, but we seem to know nothing about the Spirit of Easter. Christmas is magical. But Easter is just a memory and a somber one at that. Christmas, even though it comes in winter, is all warmth and firelight. Easter arrives with spring, and like spring comes with a different quality of light. It is colder somehow.
If you doubt this, look at how artists have depicted each event down through the centuries. Their portraits of the nativity have a coziness that Easter lacks. We are charmed by the sight of the mother and babe, surrounded by animals and rough shepherds who bend their knees in adoration. The artistic vision of Easter is more spare somehow. Our observance of the two holidays also reflects the difference. Christmas announces its approach for weeks with colored lights, a mountain of gifts, and endless parties. We are sad to see it go. Contrast this with Easter, who arrives suddenly with a sheepish grin bearing only a ham and a few jellied candies.
Part of our problem is that we tend to separate the Nativity and Easter in our thinking. We know they are both moves in the larger story of Christ's life. But to us, each has its own distinct atmosphere. In the church's message, however, they are inseparably linked. Each was necessary to accomplish Christ's purpose. If we remove one of them, they both cease to have meaning. Galatians 4:4–5 tells us that: ". . . when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law. . . ." The birth of Christ sets the stage for Good Friday. Without the incarnation, the work of the cross would be impossible. To redeem, Christ must first die for our sins. And to die for our sins, He must first be made like us.
Christ's true humanity was necessary to our salvation because Jesus came not merely as a role model but primarily as a replacement. He came to die on our behalf as the only sacrifice that God will accept for sin. As Paul explains in 2 Corinthians 5:21: "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." But Christ's birth and death were not enough. The nativity did indeed set the stage for Good Friday. Yet Good Friday without Easter is as meaningless as Christmas without the cross. Paul describes the blunt necessity for Christ's resurrection this way in 1 Corinthians 15:17, ". . . if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins." The resurrection is proof of Christ's divinity. It is also evidence that God has accepted Christ's payment on our behalf.
Still, the cross has a unique place in the church's proclamation of the gospel and the believer's life. Indeed, we might say that the key to living the Christian life is the secret of keeping the cross in view. Paul told the Corinthians that he had not come to them with eloquence or human wisdom as he proclaimed to them the testimony about God: "For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:2). Even though Paul's gospel included the birth of Christ and the resurrection, he labeled it "the message of the cross" (1 Cor. 1:18).
A Piece of Work
Usually, when someone calls you “a real piece of work,” it’s not a compliment. We say such things about those we think are odd or whose behavior is hard to understand. But in a famous soliloquy, Shakespeare’s Hamlet declares: “What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!” Yet Hamlet’s opinion of humanity is mixed. He calls human beings “the beauty of the world” and “the paragon of animals.” But he also asks, “what is this quintessence of dust?”
These days it is common to treat human beings as if they were only high functioning animals. Humans are indeed creatures but the Bible teaches that we are much more. According to Genesis 1, human beings were the pinnacle of God’s creative work. Not only were they the last creatures made, but they were created in God’s image. Genesis 1:27 says, “God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”
Made in God's Image
Humans were not the only sentient beings God created. He also created the angels who dwell with Him in heaven. Likewise, the book of Genesis says that animals and humans have “the breath of life” in them and that this life comes from God (Gen. 1:30; 6:17; 7:17). According to the Psalmist, God made humans “a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor” (Psalm 8:5). Yet of all God’s creatures, it is only human beings that Scripture says are made in God’s image.
What is this image? Not everyone has the same understanding of what this phrase means. Many early Christian theologians understood the divine image to be the power to reason. Others linked the idea of the divine image with various human faculties like spirituality or immortality. In the Genesis account, humanity’s creation in God’s image sets the stage for the divine mandate to increase in number, fill and subdue the earth, and to rule over the other creatures God has made “(Gen. 1:28). However we understand God’s image, it at least means that God made us in His likeness to represent His interests in the world. To do this, He created humanity to be male and female. Each complements the other as they share the same divine calling. Both reflect the divine image equally. The task of dominion is granted to both alike but the domain in which they exercise that dominion belongs to God
The Bible’s account of human origins takes a sharp turn in the third chapter of Genesis, which describes the fall of humanity into sin through disobedience. The primary agent in this tragic turn of events was Satan, a rebellious angel who took the form of a serpent and tempted Adam and Eve to eat from the forbidden tree (Gen. 3:1–6; cf. 2:15–17). The entrance of sin fundamentally changed humanity’s relation to God and to each other. The word the Bible uses to describe its primary consequence is death (Gen. 2:17). We think of death as the cessation of physical life. It is this, but it is also, first and foremost, a state of alienation from God. Those who are dead in sin are God’s enemies.
The Nature of Sin
Just as we tend to be limited in our thinking about death, we are also narrow in our view of sin. The popular measure used to determine what constitutes sin is movable. This incomplete view reduces many of the things we used to call sins to matters of bad taste or cultural insensitivity. Contemporary culture has removed many of the thoughts and practices that we used to call sins from the category of sin altogether. They are called “choices,” “alternative lifestyles,” or simply “mistakes.” The fatal flaw in these views is their exclusion of God. Where there is no God,
What is God Like?
Second in a series about basic truths of the Christian faith. What is God like? A brief look at some of the attributes of God as revealed in Scripture. God has no bounds. He is present everywhere and is all knowing. He reveals what is good and is Himself the measure of all goodness. He is one but is also a unity of three persons.