Archives For Jesus

1. El Salvador’s gang truce
Earlier this year, imprisoned leaders of El Salvador’s two main gangs declared a truce, mediated in part by the head chaplain for the military and police. For the story of another person of faith who has been serving among gang members in El Salvador, see this. While the country’s murder rate has dropped dramatically (52%) and the truce has held longer than virtually anyone anticipated, it’s still a volatile situation. The Washington Office on Latin America’s commentary on the truce seems spot on (emphasis mine):

The current truce opens a tremendous opportunity: Salvadoran society, the Salvadoran government, the Salvadoran private sector, and international donors should move quickly to use the pause in violence to help install social service and job programs in some of the poorest and most gang-ridden communities, in a way that responds to the real needs of those communities most affected by violence. The Funes administration must take advantage of this moment to work with Salvadoran society in developing a solid, long-term, comprehensive anti-gang strategy that emphasizes violence prevention, reintegration, and rehabilitation. Quick movement, even of small amounts of money, for outreach centers, job training and placement programs, and other activities could send an important and positive message that might help transform the short-term violence reduction that has accompanied the truce into a long-term lowering of crime and violence rates. You don’t have to trust the truce to see the opportunity it presents.

2. Brazil’s “March for Jesus”
Last Saturday in Sao Paolo, more than a million Christians participated in the city’s annual “March for Jesus.” Brazil has long been traditionally Catholic, but evangelicals and Pentecostals are quickly gaining ground, as the size of this march demonstrates. But not all evangelicals in Brazil think this march is completely a good thing. Some are concerned about the event’s sponsoring church, saying, “The march has turned into the brand name for a patented pseudo-Pentecostalism.”

3. A different kind of mission trip
Those who’ve read my recent posts on short-term mission trips and on the Association for a more Just Society will be interested in this recent Huffington Post piece by Jo Kadlecek, journalist-in-residence at Gordon College, about Nicholas Wolterstorff’s recent seminar in Honduras and about questions to ask about mission trips:

The hundreds of young people and adults who travel for short-term missions here, [AJS co-director Kurt] Ver Beek said, don’t always understand what they’re walking into. He believes they genuinely want to be “agents of change,” but too often overlook the reasons behind a country’s systemic problems in the first place. “Justice: Theory Meets Practice,” a seminar he’d dreamt of for several years, was designed specifically to address the larger questions behind such troubles, those that triggered unjust and dangerous situations.

4. Friendship trips
While we’re on the topic of short-term mission trips, the good folks at Alter Video Magazine have a new short film featuring Brazilian pastor Claudio Oliver, who has been on the receiving end of a lot of teams, but proposes a new model he calls “friendship trips,” involving a building project of a very different kind. (HT Katie Jo Ramsey)

5. Chris Wright on missional churches
Chris Wright, head of Langham Partnership International, was the guest speaker at the annual meeting of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Baton Rouge, Louisiana this year. The EPC shared this brief interview in which he speaks about missional churches.

6. Introducing Deidox
Somewhere recently (through Jake Belder, perhaps?) I stumbled upon Deidox, “a new series of short documentary films exploring the faith of everyday people.” I’m really looking forward to following along.

Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!

[Photo credit: "Mara Salvatrucha gang leaders participate in a press conference at the end of a visit by Jose Miguel Insulza, OAS Secretary General, at La Esperanza prison, in San Salvador, on July 12, 2012. (Jose Cabezas/AFP/GettyImages)" via theepochtimes.com]

In Tell It Slant: A Conversation on the Language of Jesus in His Stories and Prayers (Eerdmans), the fourth in an excellent five-part “conversation in spiritual theology,” Eugene Peterson warns against the dangers of godtalk: taking rich theological and spiritual language and cheapening it for short-term ends, using it to manipulate or depersonalize rather than to love and serve in Jesus’ name. It’s not always obvious at first, but eventually, the twisting of language leads to the twisting of lives.

It’s easy to point to the ways others twist biblical language for their own ends, but it’s often painful, or at least inconvenient, to take an honest look at ourselves and the ways we do the very same thing. Christians my age, it seems to me, would do well to consider the kinds of language we use to talk about our concern for justice.

Do we talk about justice the way the Bible does, the way Jesus does, in the context of everything else he has to say about our depravity, our brokenness, and the basis of our hope? Or do we talk about it the way we want to, the way we wish the Bible did? Is it possible that when we observe what is wrong with the world — and we don’t have to look far — we use the language of justice by default when Jesus may be calling us to use a different, more costly kind of language that leads to a different, more costly — and ultimately more redemptive — way of life?

In his meditation on Jesus’ final words from the cross — in particular, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34) — Peterson writes:

We live in a world seething in sin and awash in violence. We daily read and see the news of it in the media. We also come up against it, even though unreported in the police logs, many times a day in our homes and workplaces and neighborhoods. What I am contending for as a consequence of praying Jesus’ prayer from the cross is that forgiveness should become our first response to every person who demeans and hurts and takes our life. There certainly will be matters of justice for society to deal with along the way, and it may be important for us to participate in them. There are judges and prosecuting attorneys, police and juries, and there are many of us who pursue and uphold and cause of justice who are counted among them. But who else is there to say “Father, forgive them” but Christians who know how to pray that prayer with Jesus? However important justice is — and it is important — forgiveness is more important. The Christian at prayer, even as Jesus at prayer, is not first of all an impersonal agent of justice but a personal conveyor of forgiveness and a witness to the resurrection.

Such forgiveness is not soft sentimentality. It is hard-edged gospel. Such forgiveness is not a moral shrug of the shoulders. It is a white-hot flame of resurrection love forged in the furnace of the cross.

Assuming that the criminal crucified next to Jesus was receiving a just death sentence (he said as much himself), the sentence was not revoked in Jesus’ prayer. The criminal died for his crime. But forgiveness trumped justice. It always does (pp. 247-8, emphasis mine).

I hope we’ll continue to seek justice and to speak about it. But as recipients of God’s grace, which is the last thing any of us deserve, let’s remember to give forgiveness the last word.

Last Sunday I went to see Thrice during the Phoenix stop on their farewell tour with a friend who’s an especially big fan. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the vicinity of a mosh pit, so it was fun. Here’s one of my new favorite tunes (though for Thrice, it’s admittedly on the tame side).

At our church’s Ash Wednesday service last night, we were reminded, along with Christians down through history and all around the world, that we are dust, and to dust we will return. We were also reminded of our hope.

We made our way through a litany of repentance from the Book of Common Prayer and I hope to pray through it every day during Lent. Because it has so much to do with the big themes I explore here on the blog, and because it’s a rich, deep litany, I thought I’d share it with you too:

We have not loved you with our whole heart, and mind, and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven.

Have mercy on us, Lord.

We have been deaf to your call to serve, as Christ served us. We have not been true to the mind of Christ. We have grieved your Holy Spirit.

Have mercy on us, Lord.

We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives,

We confess to you, Lord.

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation of other people,

We confess to you, Lord.

Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those more fortunate than ourselves,

We confess to you, Lord.

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and our dishonesty in daily life and work,

We confess to you, Lord.

Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us, 

We confess to you, Lord.

Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done: for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty,

Accept our repentance, Lord.

For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those who differ from us,

Accept our repentance, Lord.

For our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of concern for those who come after us,

Accept our repentance, Lord.

Restore us, good Lord, and let your anger depart from us;

Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great.

Accomplish in us the work of your salvation,

That we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son our Lord,

Bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection.

 

I read it way back in November and it made the cut as one of my favorite books of the year, but until now I haven’t blogged about Richard Mouw’s He Shines in All That’s Fair: Culture and Common Grace (Eerdmans). Honestly, I just had to let it sit for a while, to settle.

It came highly recommended by someone in the know as a good introduction to common grace theology, a theme I decided I’d do well to actually study a bit, rather than just carrying around in my head various muddled thoughts about what I took it to mean. It’s a small, 101-page book, and as an introduction to such an enormous topic, it’s a delight to read, and it really packs a punch.

Mouw sets the stage by describing two distinct Christian camps: those who tend to emphasize what Christians and non-Christians have in common, and those who tend to emphasize all the differences. It’s right to acknowledge the legitimacy of both commonness and difference, he says. This book has more to do with the latter, but with an important condition: “Our search for the grounds of commonness must be motivated by a faith that cuts against the grain of much of contemporary life and thought.”

To suggest, as common grace theologians do, that God is up to more in the world than just saving souls, may be controversial in some circles. But I agree with Mouw that according to the Bible, God’s redemptive purposes are cosmic in scope. Still, Mouw acknowledges that there’s mystery involved, especially when it comes down to the specifics. “Properly understood,” he writes, “common grace theology is an attempt to preserve an area of mystery regarding God’s dealings with humankind.”

While most of us would find it reasonable to affirm that God delights in the beauty of his creation – “glowing sunsets and ocean waves breaking on a rocky coastline and a cherry tree in bloom and the speed of a leopard on the chase” – could it also be true that God “takes a positive interest in how unbelievers use God-given talents to produce works of beauty and goodness” or that he takes an active role in restraining sin and evil, even among those who have not accepted him as Lord? Mouw writes:

The underlying view I am endorsing here posits multiple divine purposes in the world. To state it plainly: I am insisting that as God unfolds his plan for his creation, he is interested in more than one thing. Alongside of God’s clear concern about the eternal destiny of individuals are his designs for the larger creation…

It is important for us in these difficult days to cultivate… modesty and humility in our efforts at cultural faithfulness. But we cannot give up on the important task – which the theologians of common grace have correctly urged upon us – of actively working to discern God’s complex designs in the midst of our deeply wounded world.

Learning discernment, as we all know, is messy business, but it’s essential not just in common grace theology but in all of life. Thankfully, we’re not left to figure it out on our own: we’re given the Holy Spirit and we’re given a local church, “that community where the Spirit is openly at work, regenerating sinners and sanctifying their inner selves.”

There’s so much more I could say about this little book and this very big theme, but I’ll leave it at that for now. I’ll revisit common grace theology again before too long, and Richard Mouw too, for that matter.

How do you understand the doctrine of common grace? Do you agree with Mouw’s assertion that God has “multiple divine purposes in the world”? If so, how does that impact how we live?