Author Archives: Josh

What my job teaches me about the wheat and the tares

Today I was yanking weeds on the job (I’m a landscaper) and it made me think of Jesus’ parable about the wheat and the tares (Matthew 13). Two things strike me about this parable:

First, I’ve heard this scripture taken out of context so many times it isn’t funny. Usually I hear it in reference to the church, with somebody trying to justify the “mixed multitude” of saints and sinners in a given congregation as fulfilling what Jesus spoke in this passage. However, the Lord himself was clear that the “field” in his stories was representing the world, not his kingdom.

Second, the tendency of those who serve the Lord is to want to rip the tares out of the ground upon first sight. Many a Christian leader out there just can’t wait to get his hands on a wolf, or so it would seem. But our Shepherd is not up for this. His command is to leave them alone; let both grow together until the end of the age when the righteous Judge will do the dividing.

Today while cleaning out that customer’s bed I accidently pulled up a lily along with the weed I was trying to rid her landscape of. This is a very real possibility when pastors, teachers, and otherwise well-intentioned leaders try to do the Lord’s work of dividing the tares from the wheat. We’re just not very good at it. I’ve yet to meet the minister who constantly harps upon false teaching, watching out for wolves, ect., who doesn’t invariably pull up a few good plants along with the tares he may succeed in rooting out.   

What’s the answer, then? I say let the Lord deal with those who need dealing. Perhaps there are a few hypothetical situations in the church which would call for discipline, but I dare say those situations are fewer and farther between than most of us will typically allow.

When it comes to rooting out the tares, save it for the Chief Landscaper. :)


The thing we evangelicals can’t stand about Jesus

It’s impressive to see the way Jesus presented Himself differently to different people. To Nicodemus he said, “you must be born from above.” To the rich young ruler, “go and sell all you own and follow me.” To the woman at the well Christ was living water. To the Jew He was the fulfillment of the Law. Certain religious rulers he rebuked, demanding repentance before they dare approach the Lord, while to the woman caught in adultery he offered not a single harsh word, only complete and utter acceptance.

It’s beautiful, isn’t it? To borrow Paul’s expression, “Christ is all.” He is all the things that men need. Yet He is not a “thing” at all, but a living Person. To those seeking an entrance, Christ is the door. To those in need of guidance, He is the shepherd. For those without life, He is the resurrection!

But He is unboxable at the same time. His self-presentation does not come in one pre-packaged form, and that is just what we evangelical Christians can’t stand about the Lord. We like it all cut-and-dry, methodical, systematic. We prefer a neatly defined approach to God and a bullet-pointed salvation: Follow these steps and you’re in. Then check these boxes everyday to make sure you stay in, or (for those with more Calvinistic tastes) to constantly re-verify that you were actually in to begin with. ;) We may not care to admit it, but that is how we often view things.   

What I love about the Lord Jesus is that He does not fit into the molds of men, even the Christian molds which we’ve been told Christ Himself invented. He is untameable by any of our standards. One moment He’s telling me that the person who is not with us is against us, but then just as I’m about to rise up and denounce my brother’s heresy, he comes back at me with “but he that is not against us is for us.”

Obviously these kinds of statements demand some further clarification, but I hope you get the heart of what I’m saying. For all my knowledge of the Bible I know Christ Himself so little-I’m just seeing that more and more lately. I know the temptation to try to be a great leader, to feign certainty over things I’m not really certain of and draw tight lines over who is in and who is out of my particular version of the “true church.” But I see how great the call is to deny myself in these ways. There are just too many young Christian men out there-myself included-who take themselves and their role in God’s kingdom far too seriously. Humility, brokenness, being sent by God and not just called… these are the qualities that should demand more of our time and attention. 

I’m rambling a bit off course here, but maybe I just needed to let loose some of my inner stirrings today. We certainly do need leaders in life-men and women of real vision and gifting who can advance the purpose of the Lord in the earth-but we need leaders with far more than just vision, gifting, and Bible knowledge. We need character, wisdom, true holiness, and a healthy portion of real life experience, among other things. Qualities, like it or not, that take a lot of time to develop.

For, as T. Austin Sparks once said, “it is not what we do, but what we have that is the secret of service.”

Oh well. I’ve said my piece for the day. Thanks for listening. :)


True religion

Religion gets a lot of bad press these days. Not that I would disagree, either-it’s just that sometimes we need to define the term before we lambast it. Religion as most people refer to it is self-effort; man trying to make his way to God or be like God. Lots of rules and regulations; church hierarchies, systems, ect. In this vein I would agree: religion does not serve us very well.

But James, in his letter to dispersed Jewish believers, speaks of something he calls “true religion.” True religion, it turns out, has nothing to do with belief systems and ritualistic devotion to a certain form or code of law; rather, true religion is all about “visiting orphans and widows in their affliction, and keeping yourself unstained from the world.”

A fairly simple, yet workable, definition. I do believe James was on to something.

Anyway, that was just my preface. This verse of scripture has come back to my heart time and again in the past three or four months, and tonight was one of those nights. My wife and I took our kids to visit my ”mammaw.” In the course of our visit I was able to help her move some things around and lift some heavy objects which I’m glad she won’t be trying to move herself. It was a simple act, really, not worth mentioning otherwise, but all of the sudden in the midst of performing it I realized how alive I was to God.  I’m not kidding you, there was a sense of the Lord so immediate and so real it was just like breathing Him in to know He was near.

It was only a passing thought, but it made me curious as to how much time we Christians spend trying to “feel” God’s presence via worship services, devotional activities, and a whole slew of other methods by which we try to “get” it. In that moment I saw the vanity and frivolity of so many such exercises, all so self-centered and bound up with our human “doing” and “trying” to be rather than simply being sons and daughters of God. It’s becoming increasingly evident to me that to “find” the Lord you simply spend time going to and being where He is. The places that come immediately to mind are the church (probably not what you’re thinking, though), the Spirit (in your spirit), the poor (see Matthew 25), and in my case tonight, the orphan and the widow. Just by serving my mammaw in that simple way I became conscious-undeniably conscious-of an absolutely splendid oneness with God.

What about you? Have you ever had an experience like this? In what practical ways is God alive and real to you?


My son, a tornado, and Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Last night I had another moment with my son I thought I’d share with you.

It was late. Josh was having a hard time sleeping. Nightmares from the dinosaur movie he’d watched earlier in the day woke him up, I think. Mom and his sisters were already out for the night; while sitting at the table I heard his little footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Dad, I still can’t sleep,” he said, almost crying. So I brought him to the table and we began looking at pictures online (the kids always enjoy that, for some reason).

At some point we came to a picture someone had posted from the recent storms that went through our area. The picture showed a man standing with a building in the background, completely destroyed by a tornado. Josh noted that the building was broken down and asked me what happened; I explained about the powerful wind of a tornado and the damage it can cause.

Very simply he remarked, ”But our house didn’t get broken down by a tornado.”

I replied, “No, and we’re grateful for that. But many people’s homes did get broken down. So let’s be sure to think of them and pray for them.”

His answer surprised me. You see, my wife and I don’t drill our kids with Bible lessons and generally we only speak of God and Jesus in casual, or should I say normal ways, just as they/he come(s) up in normal, everyday conversation. Beyond that, they have gone to some kids classes and been present at a number of meetings where adults were singing and sharing about the Lord (albeit in a very informal fashion), but my point is we haven’t gone to great lengths to “teach” them in any kind of way other than living before them what we hope are lives of love and grace.

So when Josh responded to my comment the way he did of his own initiative, I was genuinely surprised. More than that, I was delighted. Even more than that, it brought tears to my eyes. After I told him about people’s homes being destroyed he said, “But God…” He paused, then continued, “and other people can come and help them build their houses back again.”

It may not sound like much, but something about the heart and the way in which he said those words just made me cry. I was touched in a way I haven’t been touched in a while. Then today, quite curiously, I was reading a book which contained this quote by Fyodor Dostoyevsky:

The soul is healed by being with children.

I couldn’t agree more. Those of you who have children probably know what I’m talking about. Most days it’s a tough row to hoe being a parent, and you’d better believe my wife and I have our fair share of frustrations and failures in dealing with three small kids, but they are truly precious. In moments like this when I glimpse something eternal in my children, something which burns right through the fog of doubt and uncertainty I am tempted to have over the meaninglessness of life-especially when I hear stories of other families who, for instance, were all taken away in a moment when a tornado ripped mercilessly through their neighborhood-I’m reminded of a greater and more enduring reality than that which my five senses alone will allow. Such a reminder brings me comfort, gives me hope, and sets my life back on course.

The “how” of it all may often remain a mystery to me, but I choose to believe, indeed I must believe, that in the end, all things will have worked together… for good.


Frank Viola interviews N.T. Wright

A little while back I posted a review of N.T. Wright’s book Judas & the Gospel of Jesus. Wright is one of the foremost scholars in the Christian world today (so I’m told) and Frank Viola recently interviewed him on his blog, Beyond Evangelical.

I plan to do a more formal review of Frank’s ministry in the near future as an introduction to any of my readers who may be unfamiliar with his work, but for now why don’t you hop on over to Beyond Evangelical and read his Q&A with Wright. It’s a good one.


Paul: Apostle of the heart set free

Recently I decided to wade out a bit into the deep and sometimes murky waters of scholastic literature. So far I’ve been pleasantly surprised by what I’ve found, believe it or not. Having begun a couple months back with N.T. Wright’s little book about the gnostic gospel of Judas, more recently I finished F.F. Bruce’s colossal work, Paul Apostle of the Heart Set Free.

F.F. Bruce was the Rylands Professor of Biblical Criticism and Exegesis at the University of Manchester in England prior to his passing in 1990. I’d heard nothing but good things about his writings from various sources in the past, so I figured I’d give him a shot. Seeing that I have a particular interest in the historical context of first-century Christianity I was immediately drawn to Bruce’s work on Paul, which, according to the preface, was developed from lectures given over the course of eighteen years as part of the syllabus for the Honors School of Biblical Studies entitled, “The Missionary Career of Paul in its Historical Setting.” In Bruce’s own words:

I have not attempted to expound Paul’s teaching systematically but rather to treat its main themes in their historical context, as Paul himself had occasion to develop them in his letters.

Perhaps my expectations were set too high going into the opening chapters, because at first I wasn’t impressed. The writing was good, the information solid, and the presentation fluid enough, but it took some time for me to really get into it. In fact, I shelved the book for a number of weeks before returning to finish it out of a sense of obligation to complete what I’d begun. Fortunately I did come back, because about mid-way through the book really began to pick up steam. It was probably about the time of Paul’s first visit to Corinth where I began to stumble upon one gold mine after another of valuable information, and from there on out every chapter was littered with the insightful gems of Bruce’s scholarly research.

Should you decide to read this book for yourself, though, let me forewarn you: Paul Apostle of the Heart Set Free is very long. 474 pages long, to be exact. Yet it was well worth the investment of time and attention in my case, and I trust it will be for you as well.


The worker is to the church like a joint is to the body

Thinking back upon my former church life experience, I have to admit we had our fair share of struggles and frustrations. So much of our experience was like being stuck in traffic, never quite able to get out of second gear. For one reason or another it was just difficult to gain the critical mass we needed for things to really take off. Nevertheless, there were some moments of glory and seasons of real progress, one of which I would like to consider for this post. Probably the greatest impetus forward we ever received was when we came into contact with a brother who became a kind of “apostle” to us from the Lord.

From the beginning of our assembly when it was only four of us coming together we had sought outside help, being convinced from scripture and the advice of others that this is vital to the health of any church. Problem was we were never able to get anyone in for a visit. We chalked this up to the fact that we were a small group living in the middle of nowhere. Still we plodded on. Eventually we came into contact with some churches in other parts of our state who benefited from the ministry of a certain brother (among others) who gives his life to the work of travelling and building up the saints. So one Sunday we drove to a meeting in a city two hours north of us to meet this man. We hit it off and talked about the possibility of his visiting our fledgling little group.

He did come to visit us, and then again, and again, and again over the course of the next five or six months. These visits were an incredible strength to our gathering. I learned a lot during this time just by observing about the nature and function of the apostolic gift (or itinerant worker, or church planter, or whatever you might call it). In Ephesians 4:16 Paul refers to this in context of the Body’s overall function. Here he likens the gifted members whom God gives for the saints’ perfecting to “joints” which connect and hold the members of the Body together. It’s a very subtle yet remarkable illustration, one which I got to observe very keenly in the brief span of time we were receiving visits from this brother.

During his visits we would block off the entire day for fellowship. Anyone who was free could come and go in our home throughout the day as they pleased. We ate together and had coffee. We sang songs and laughed a lot. In the evening we would sometimes have an informal meeting with a time of ministry; other times the fellowship was so fluid we didn’t even find it necessary to change things up in such a way. Through it all, we partook of Christ. The brother shared his experiences of the Lord and the church with us; he encouraged us and affirmed what spiritual reality he saw in our lives. He exhorted us to stay simple and remain free, and cautioned us against becoming sectarian or thinking ourselves to be any different or more special than anyone else. He modeled practical ways to fellowship with the Lord and always seemed careful never to go beyond that which he felt was to our particular benefit at the time.    

What’s more, I noticed he had a way of forming connections between believers. Not just locally but between churches and saints in different localities, too. There was something about his ministry that joined people together. I saw this to be in line with what Paul was referring to in Ephesians when he wrote about the apostles, prophets, evangelists, and shepherds who act as joints connecting one part of the Body to another. It really is very practical.

Perhaps this hardly needs to be pointed out, but what I saw here stands in stark contrast to what is common in most churches throughout Christendom today. More often than not those who are set up to be leaders build walls between believers rather than encourage them to come together. Churches are formed along this or that party line with very little concern given to other brothers and sisters who are doing their own thing maybe just a couple blocks down the street. Suffice it to say that real ministry joins saints together in their locality, it does not drive a wedge of doctrine or any other thing between them.

At any rate, I feel especially blessed to have been able enjoy such a ministry, if only for a season. In our case it was perhaps too little too late in the way of establishing a more lasting testimony in my city, but for better or worse it was what it was and now it is what it is. I’m content to walk away from the experience knowing I gained more of Christ.

For more on the subject, check out this post from April of last year and this one from May. They were written while we were actually in the thick of things.


Contemplating a name change

After more than two years of blogging here at “Called to Rebuild” I feel like the experiences and transitions my own life and thought are now calling for a change of name. I’ve had a new title for the site in mind for a little while now, but I would love to get some feedback from my readers. What I’m looking to do in the near future is upgrade this site to a more professional design, improving the blog’s overall function and appearance; this will go together with a new theme which I hope is more expressive of where I stand personally in relation to all I have seen, experienced, and yet long for of a practical realization of the kingdom of God and His eternal purpose in Christ.

As I see it, the church plays a unique role in the plan of God for this and all ages. In short, she/we/the local assembly are to be in the midst of our society as the harbinger of a new and coming age. Undoubtedly (in theory at least), any practical manifestation of this kingdom does threaten the kingdoms of this world, be they religious, political, or otherwise. My own longing is to be more and more a part of something-some living, flesh-and-blood community-which embodies this hope for a new world that we read about in the scripture and, from time to time, in the pages of history.

Also, I’ve come to realize that the very name “Called to Rebuild” seems to suggest to some people an advocation of going back and merely imitating the patterns and forms of first-century churches. I’ve never held this belief personally, but to some folks I know any talk of “rebuilding” has formed a stumbling block to their feeling that our need is not to go “back” so much as it is to go “forward.” I agree wholeheartedly, though I feel in many ways that the two movements go hand in hand. Often we need to go back in order to go forward.

Anyway, my question to you, dear reader, is this: what would your suggestion be for a new blog name which reflects this kind of a longing? I’m open to your ideas and would love for every reader and subscriber to chime in with their thoughts. Perhaps collectively we can come up with something better than what I already have in mind. Or, maybe I will find it confirmed. Either way, please let me know what you think. I appreciate your participation here over the past two years and hope for a long and mutually life-giving relationship yet to come. :)


Are our gatherings truly an expression of the church which is His Body?

Imagine you woke up this morning and your left leg didn’t work. Don’t you think you’d notice something was wrong? It’s a simple analogy, really, but it’s the kind of thing that comes across so forcefully in Paul’s consideration of the church as the “Body” of Christ (as, for instance, in 1 Corinthians 12).

Notice Paul doesn’t say the church is “like” a body, but that the church is the Body of Christ. This is no mere metaphor. To Paul, this is a working reality, both in the daily life and the gathering together of the disciples of Jesus.

Alas, however, today this usually isn’t the case, is it? Most Christians participate in a kind of church life where the majority of ministry is carried out by a few rather than by all the members together. A great deal of the Body’s function is (or at least can be) invalidated and rendered inoperative by this unhealthy clergy-laity distinction which prevails so completely throughout modern Christianity.

Proof of that statement is easy enough to gauge. Most of the gatherings you’ll ever walk into would be entirely unaffected should you continue to show up week after week and never participate in the meetings or community life. Ironically, though it is designed for you (and for the other people present) the show would go on with or without you just the same. It is not dependent on a robust spiritual life operating in all its members resulting in a healthy, moment-by-moment functioning of the Body as a whole. Rather, it is carried on mostly by a select number of staff members aided by the volunteer labor of a few eager laymen.

I’m not trying to be harsh or negative here, I’m just stating what I’ve observed so far in my eleven years as a Christian. In most places the body can wake up and never even notice that its left leg isn’t working, so to speak, simply because there is no “Body” basis at all in operation-there is only a congregation being maintained through the diligent labor of a few faithful ministers.  And there is a vast difference between a church, biblically speaking, and a congregation. One is a Body alive and functioning (for better or for worse I might add) while the other, for the most part, is a thing of rote and ritual.

Anyway, maybe I’ve gone too far in saying all that, but one of the things I learned in the past three years of informal gatherings with other brothers and sisters on this “Body” basis is just how necessary it becomes for there to be an active pursuit and discovery of Christ taking place. What do I mean by that? I’m not entirely sure, myself. I just know that it’s easier said than done. 

For one, when the gathering is small it’s natural that it will be more obvious when brother so-and-so isn’t present, or that sister so-and-so seems to be discouraged and is not sharing like usual. But even more than the size of the gathering, what matters is that the community is established upon this basis of Body life and ministry as opposed to clergy-led church life. This is not to say there shouldn’t be leaders, teachers, pastors, or anything else of the like. That’s not what I mean to say at all. Just that there is a difference, a very marked and definite difference between the two. If you know what I’m talking about then you know. If you don’t, well, I might be tempted to say that I envy you. Because it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do to give birth to, help sustain, or just be a part of a living, moving expression of the church which relies on the actual spiritual life of its members for its own maintanance and upbuilding.

In the kind of church life envisioned in the New Testament, when one member suffers the others suffer with it. When the eye isn’t working right, the rest of the Body has a hard time seeing. And when you wake up in the morning and your left leg isn’t functioning properly, you take notice. :)

God speed the day when there are communities of believers all across our land who look only to the Lord when they come together, gathering truly and fully as His church! For in the words of Anthony Norris Groves, “This I doubt not is the mind of God concerning us-we should come together in all simplicity as disciples, not waiting on any pulpit or ministry, but trusting that the Lord would edify us together by ministering as He pleased and saw good from the midst of ourselves.”


What kind of life is God pleased with?

This is a re-post from my other blog, Reconstructing the First Century Story. I thought it might be beneficial to people, so I figured I would bring it over here in order to reach a wider audience. (As it turns out, even fewer people are interested in New Testament history than are interested in the themes I write about at this site… alas! ;) )  Either way, I hope you enjoy it!

“He will be great” (Luke 1:32).

That’s what the angel said to Mary about Jesus before he was born. And in every respect it turned out to be true. His greatness was not like that of the Roman or Greek conception; his was the greatness of a servant.

Have we ever really stopped to consider that?

Think about it this way: Jesus came to be baptized by John in the Jordan river in A.D. 28 when he was about 33 or 34 years old. It was here the heavens were opened, the Spirit of God descended like a dove, and the voice of God was heard saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:16,17).

Notice, as of that moment in time Jesus had not yet healed a single person, he had not raised the dead, he had not made the deaf to hear, he had not said and done unprecedented things all throughout the region of Galilee and beyond. For all we know, all Jesus had done from his youth until that time was live and work as a carpenter in Nazareth, attend the synagogue each week and Jewish festivals each year, and just be human.

And with that normal life, His Father was well pleased.

The greatness of Jesus was not just all the miracles we read about or the unparalleled teachings or anything at all spectacular that He did. His greatness was primarily found in those thirty-three silent years, where he simply lived a normal human life in fellowship with His Father… deity and humanity co-habiting as one.

This is the kind of life which causes God to smile: a normal human life lived in fellowship with the Divine. So you and I may relieve ourselves this very moment of the pressure to be something “great” according to this world or religion’s standards. God just wants normal people doing normal things in oneness with Himself. That’s the goal of the gospel. That’s the heart of it all. That is what God has brought and is bringing us to “in Christ.”


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