Brett Tilford

I used to seek “God’s will” for my life. I believed he had a plan, a roadmap of sorts, that I needed to follow very closely. When I came to a fork in the road I’d pray fervently for guidance – nearly give myself an aneurism – straining to hear a voice from heaven. I’d read into every circumstance and chance interaction – like some old mystic deciphering tea leaves. Naturally, after weeks or months of indecision, I’d grow weary of the guessing game and confidently announce that God had spoken: I would go to such and such school or take such and such job because of course, God had told me to. I would never be so presumptuous to “walk in my own strength” or make a decision “in the flesh”. I wasn’t like people from the world who made decisions based only on what they wanted to do or what they felt was right. I was above all of that – God whispered in my ears – I was confident in my steps.

The problem is that looking back, I think my claims of otherworldly guidance were rooted in insecurity and a fear of what others thought about me. I viewed my ability to divine God’s will as essential to people believing in me; to keeping the aura going that I was a spiritual person who “heard from the Lord”; essential to my own confidence in my decisions; to keep going when times got tough. God was a security blanket of sorts.

Now I get a bit nervous when I hear people announcing that they’ve heard from God about their future – it’s like spiritual shock and awe; no one can speak into it, critique, or question it. God has whispered in their ears: conversation over.

All I see is someone trying too hard.

I respect people honest enough to admit they’re making it all up as they go. People with the confidence to take responsibility for their actions. People who refuse to blame God for their failures. People who can say, “Look God hasn’t whispered in my ear, I just think this is the right thing to do – you’re free to join me.” No coercing or cajoling. No big promises of quick success – like some slick salesmen.

I’m not sure if God has a wonderful plan for my life – at least in any specific way. For awhile I was terribly disappointed by this, but now I find it incredibly liberating. I’m free to do what I want to do. There are no “thou shalts” hanging over my head. No excuses like, “Well I really wanted to do ‘X’ but God called me to do ‘Y’.” That’s b.s. I’m a human being and I’m free to make my own decisions.

As Christians, the paragraph above sends up red flags for us. This is selfish talk. This is someone refusing to bow the knee to Christ. This is what we fear. We fear people thinking for themselves and making their own decisions. We’re afraid that without the shackles of “God’s will” they’ll leave God out of their lives all together. But what if the opposite is true. What if it takes leaving the idea of “God’s will” behind for people to begin to take responsibility for their lives and the state of our world. We need to empower people with the idea of God’s will – not hold them back.

Millions of Christian teens are about to graduate from high school in the next few weeks – if I could tell them anything I’d tell them that God’s will for their life is that they would be the most loving and Christlike people imaginable. How they become those people is up to them. They’re 100% responsible for their lives and actions. They’ll bring either heaven to earth or hell – the choice is there’s. I’d beg them never to be weighed down with thou shalts. I’d beg them to be fully immersed in the world – pressing their hands to the bloody pulse and not letting go. I’d encourage them to build orphanages and become school teachers and adopt kids – even if it doesn’t make much financial sense. I’d tell them it’s beautiful that they can do whatever they want, but it’s also a profound responsibility so they need to take it damn seriously. This isn’t kid stuff. Kids need maps. Kids need to be told what to do. Kids need their hands held. They’re not kids anymore. God trusts them and so do I.

In the Christian tradition we normally think of God as an object. He is “something” we can grasp and even understand in the same way we understand another person. For example my wife is extroverted and caring and generous. In the same way I think of God as good, all-knowing and just. She is a person with personality and characteristics and God as revealed in the Bible is a “person” with personality and characteristics… sort of.

Within most religious traditions it seems there’s always a group of people (mystics) who call into question this idea of God as an object, as something we can grasp and understand with our minds. While most folks are content to focus on what we know about God these mystics focus on the otherness of the divine. They ask, “How can a drop of water contain the sea? How can the finite contain the infinite?” They warn us that even language and our religious texts – while pointing to the divine – fail to contain it-him-her (see what I did there).

Coming from a very conservative background I’m familiar with the red flag that last sentence likely threw up. I think the concern goes to the very heart of conservative theology because it’s on this point that most conservatives take their stand, “Brett all this ‘mystery’ and ‘otherness of the divine’ talk is fine for you wishy washy liberals but it’s only because you’ve left the firm foundation of the Scriptures. We still believe in the perfect and inerrant Bible. We still believe that based on the scriptures we can make definitive statements about God.”

My response would be this: looking for some firm ground to stand on when it comes to the divine we’ve made claims that the Bible is “perfect and without error” and that it “contains all truth.” The idea seems to be that the text somehow captures God and then renders him “revealed” in an almost magical way. This is why we defend our claims of an “errorless” Bible to the death because if even one part of it is contradictory, historically inaccurate, or just plain barbaric then our foundation is gone, the entire house of cards comes crashing down, the magic is lost and now everything theologically is “up-for-grabs.” However, this all or nothing perspective has caused us to be dishonest. I’ll handle this in more detail in future posts but the long and short of it is that most pastors know there are contradictions, historical inaccuracies, and just plain barbaric passages – they’re just not willing to be honest with themselves or their flocks because of this “all or nothing” perspective. I think the mystic perspective offers a way forward for us because it frees us to be honest about the scriptures without feeling it destroys our entire faith. If anything it might say that scriptures we have are exactly what you’d expect to find in any finite tradition that’s trying to grasp the infinite. Of course there are contradictions and differing perspectives. Of course there is paradox and mystery and unknowing built right into the very heart of the scriptures – it’s God we’re talking about.

The evangelical church is searching for inspiration. Like an aging athlete we’ve “lost a step”. You wouldn’t guess it from visiting us – we have more people and money than ever – but we know it and that’s enough. We’ve run out of new ideas. We’ve run out of new language. We struggle to make art. We have no new prayers. Our songs don’t resonate – like fingernails clicking on tin cups. The bible has become stale. Our children are leaving the faith. We try to rally the troops, to instill new life, but we remain un-inspired. We try not to sound cliché but we can’t help ourselves – it’s all we have. Cliches and tired theological ideas. We sense this and so we look to the big churches and pastors for inspiration.

Surely, they will provide a spark, some insight that will instill new life. But they’re just as desperate. On the outside they’re “hip” – electric guitars, shorts, and pastors with tattoos – but theologically they’ve refused to come to grips with the 21^st century. Like a trendy 20 something who wears the latest styles but talks like their grandpa. These churches attract some young people but sooner or later most realize it’s the same shtick and move on.

I don’t offer this critique as an outsider – someone pointing fingers or kicking people while they’re down. I’ve been there. I’ve been the one with a faith that didn’t resonate anymore. The one searching for new language and news songs. Struggling with that nagging sense that I’ve outgrown the clothes of my childhood faith. My answer was to grow up and re-engage with a world that had passed me by.

Based on most evangelical books, music, and day time talk radio I thought the “secular” world was headed to hell in a hand-basket. It was filled with unhappy people leading meaningless lives adrift on a sea of moral relativism. Imagine my surprise when I found Catholics, Liberals, Buddhists, Agnostics, and Atheists happier and, dare-I-say-it, more Christlike than me. The writings of these folks disturbed and wounded me at first. But I quickly found that they were the wounds of friends. They didn’t want to destroy me – they simply wanted to be honest with me.

So here’s my fear for the evangelical church. I fear that in our not so subtle rejection of all things “non-Christian” we’ve cut ourselves off from the thinkers and poets who could serve to infuse us with new life. We’re scared by culture. We’re scared of people who read. We’re scared of being branded a heretic. We’re scared of science. We’re scared of “post modernism”. We’re scared of gays. We’re scared.

So here’s my antidote. Re-engage. Throw yourself into the world. Immerse yourself in the music, poetry and literature of our day. Not so that you can critique them – let them critique you. Let them freak you out and piss you off. Let them rail against you and you stand there and take it for the good medicine that it is. I can’t promise that you’ll re-emerge stronger in your faith – who knows maybe you’ll lose it. But I can promise that you’ll emerge a more courageous and honest person.

Our churches desperately need people like this. People fully engaged with the 21^st century.

In my experience most people show up to church saying, “I need God” but what they really mean is, “I need a sense of cosmic meaning in my life.” We church leaders are normally too hasty in our reaction. “Really?!” we exclaim, “That’s exactly what God wants to give you!” But what if this isn’t true?

What if God is less interested in giving us a general sense of well being than in becoming the thorn in our side – the thing that pokes and prods and ruptures our lives. Living a life of love always costs us something. Siding with the helpless and defenseless means you get picked apart by the powerful. Helping the poor can be frustrating. Trying to make the world a better place sucks the energy out of your body and means you have less time to play video games. Of course there is beauty and significance in this faith but it’s counter-intuitive. You’re flat out misleading people if you’re not up front about the fact that one of the great Christian mysteries is that to gain life – you have to give it away.

Next time someone comes to your church saying, “I need God to make my life better” maybe a proper response would be, “Sorry friend, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

There are two main camps when it comes to the “call of God” question.

First Camp

I don’t believe that God has a call on my life. I don’t believe he has any special or unique plans for me. I don’t think he pre-ordained who I would marry, where I would work, or the church I would go to. God loves me. He just isn’t much of a micro manager. My job is to do my best to live a life of love in the way of Jesus.

2nd Camp

God has a special and unique call on my life. He knows who I’m going to marry, where I’ll work, and the church I’ll attend at each stage of my life. God loves me and revels in watching me walk into his perfect will. My job is to discern that will and love God by faithfully walking the path he’s called me to.

2 Major Pitfalls of The Second Camp

I don’t know who is right, but I’ve experienced two major pitfalls in living as though God has pre-ordained every step of my life. First, there was the pitfall of worrying that I’m not in his will – all the time. It becomes this endless crazy stress that I’m at the wrong school, the wrong neighborhood, the wrong church, the wrong job. God has a wonderful plan for my life but he’s not exactly parting the clouds to impart his will to me. In frustration i would start to read into all sorts of obscure coincendences until one day I would finally declare, “I’ve done it! I’ve found his will!” However, that lead to an even more dangerous pitfall.

The pitfall of believing that I’m actually in the center of God’s will. With this question settled in my mind I relaxed into a kind of sick pseudo spiritual “peace.” All is well. I’ve taken up my cross so now all I have to do is put one foot in front of the other. No one can question my motives or the direction of my life because God has spoken. There was no radical self examination. No questioning of each action and wondering if it lined up with the teachings of Jesus because I was in the middle of God’s will! Sure, I messed up and sinned sometimes but there was nothing major in my life. Right? The worst was when I would actually use God’s “call” to justify the violence in my life. By violence I mean the hurt and pain that my life, both knowingly and unknowingly, caused people. The problem was that to fundamentally question major things in my life would send me straight back to the land of constant worry about whether or not I was in God’s will. That wasn’t an option so I opted to lead an “unexamined” Christian life instead. Where I shopped, what I drove, what I bought, where I lived, what I ate, how much money I had, how much money I gave, where I spent my time, who my friends were, where I worked and why exactly I worked there, and what drove me (desire for money, power, success, peoples approval?) all went unexamined because I was above all that… I was in the center of “God’s will”.

Conclusion

The thing about my life now is that I’m more at peace with the idea that God loves me than I ever have been, yet I’ve never looked so long and hard at every aspect of my life and questioned how it does or doesn’t line up with bringing God’s love to the world. I am now 100% responsible for my actions and I can either live a life that brings the pain and suffering of hell to earth or the love of heaven. The choice is mine. However, on the upside I’m no longer stressed about finding God’s call for my life because from a big picture perspective I feel like I know what it is. It’s the same thing God has called all of us to: love. Of course, I freely admit that I don’t do this very well so if someone asked me, “Do you feel like you’re at the center of God’s will?” I would answer, “Of course not!” Right now all I can do is my best and be thankful that God loves me in the midst of my failings.

Peter Rollins at Baylor University from Peter Rollins on Vimeo.

Money Quote: “Belief in the resurrection is participation in the insurrection.” (or something like that- it’s from memory.)

Another thing I found particularly interesting about this talk was the idea of re-thinking Christianity as a “material” faith and not just doctrines and beliefs.

If you haven’t read anything by Peter Rollins I’d suggest the book How (Not) To Speak of God.

It’s a bit long but here’s what I shared at our church last night…

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The Kingdom of This World

I believe Jesus came to start a new world within the ruins of the old one.  I think he called this new world order the kingdom of God.  And anyone that commits to live in the way of Jesus is a citizen of this kingdom.  This kingdom is fundamentally different than the kingdoms of this world.  Those kingdoms are driven by the gods of money, sex, and power.  Get as much as you can as fast as you can.  It’s a life of materialism.  A life that cares only for selfish pleasure.  A life that’s dependent on no one but yourself.  It’s a kingdom that uses violence to get what it wants.  It’s the worst of humanity.  A world not as God intended it but twisted and broken.

The Kingdom of God

However, Jesus preached that his was a kingdom of love.  Love for God, your neighbors… and even your enemies.  It’s a love that calls us to live humbly: not striving to be the greatest but the servant of all.  It’s a love that calls us not to wine and dine with the elite of society but with the homeless and friendless.  It’s a love that sacrifices and looks out for the good of others.  It’s a love that forgives not once or twice but hundreds and hundreds of times.  It’s a love that embodies mercy and preaches justice.  It’s a love that says it’s not enough that you have enough but when WE have enough.  It’s a weak love.  One that is easily crushed by the powers at be because it refuses to fight back refuses to defend itself. It will not return evil with evil but will overcome it with good.

The Family

And at the heart of this Kingdom is a family. Jesus said it would be our love for one another that would define us.  He said, that the only way people could tell we really were living the kingdom would be our love for one another.  Early in his ministry Jesus was approached by his literal mother and brothers and he pretended to not know them.  Why would he do this.  He said, it’s because these people who were living the kingdom way, the way of love, were his real family.  This is the reality of the kingdom of God. We are invited not only into the kingdom of God but into the family of God.

The Meal

And at the heart of this family is a meal.  But it’s not just any meal my friends.  It’s a meal that foreshadows a meal to end all meals  Down through history you have the prophets saying lots of crazy things about the end of the world.  Instead of the expected doom and gloom you normally get from prophets they seem to be full of hope.  Their message was basically this.  God is going to heal and restore his creation.  They agree that things are really screwed up now but they said it won’t last forever.  Some day, a day they often referred to as the “Day of the Lord” someday God would dwell with men again.  And in that day our relationship with him, other people, and all of creation (the rivers, rocks, animals and oceans) would be set right.  They promised that in that day the things we used to use to kill each other would be burned down and reshaped to farm the land.  They said that lions and lambs would sleep next to each other in perfect peace.  They said that nations would stop killing each other and start helping each other.  They said that God would rule and reign form Jerusalem and that people from all over the world would worship him.  However, they also said something else which was pretty remarkable. In Revelation 19 they said that God was going to throw a party- a feast.  A feast where rich and poor, young and old, and black and white will all sit down together at the table of brotherhood (as Martin Luther correctly said) and share a meal together.  It will be the realization of what Jesus promised and meant by the kingdom of God- literally the rule and reign of God realized on earth.

The Story

What theologians have noticed down through history is that Jesus seems to be alluding to this through his meal with the disciples.  READ MATTHEW 26:26-29 Notice verse 29 that is so important.  He’s saying, do this in remembrance not just of my death on the cross, although that’s very important but he’s saying this is a foretaste, a foretaste of the day of the Lord.

When we share this meal we’re saying not only that we remember Jesus sacrifice on the cross, although that’s super important, we’re saying that we remember his teaching about the kingdom of God.  We remember that one day we’ll sip wine with him in a world ruled by the goodness of God and in the mean time we’ll do our best to make that day a reality.

So you see the eucharist isn’t just a personal reflection on our spiritual life with God.  It’s a meal that signifies the rule and reign of God on earth.  It’s a meal that says, at the end of al things…love wins.  So we live in that reality now.  When we take this bread and cup with a community of Jesus followers we’re literally taking the future reality and pulling it into the present.

To me that’s a beautiful thing.

I wish I was better at thinking about “us” and not just myself. The phrase “common good” conjures up so many negative thoughts and emotions for me. Most of them having to do with communism and socialism. I instantly begin thinking about the book Animal Farm and how that phrase was twisted and used for the exact opposite of what it was intended to mean.

The challenge of course is that it’s a biblical concept. Paul speaks about it as does St. Augustine and of course the early church lived this way.  Maybe my repulsion to the phrase is more a product of my middle class American culture than Jesus’ actual opinion of the subject or church history.

One of the principles I learned from a professor was, “Be wary of an ‘interpretation’ of Jesus words that ends up completely ignoring them.” Yet, I find myself doing this all the time.

For example Luke 6:30 says, “…If anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.” If I were preaching on this verse I would be super tempted to say, “Now don’t worry. Jesus isn’t saying that if someone steals something from you, you shouldn’t demand it back. What he’s saying is that we need to live generously.”

Really? Is that what he’s saying Tilford, because it sounded an awful lot to me like your trying to explain away a very straight forward interpretation of that verse with the assumption, “Well, dear Lord he can’t possibly mean that!”

The genius thing I do (among others) is withdraw a principle from the verse that ends up removing the prickly parts. Like the phrase I said above, “…what he’s saying is that we need to live generously.” Brilliant! This is especially helpful if I’m reading, preaching, or discipling someone through difficult verses of the Bible. All I have to do is read the verse aloud and then distill it into an easy to swallow principle that goes down like butter! Not only do I feel better about my faith but the folks I’m talking to are put at ease. Don’t worry friends. Following Jesus is easy!

I’m an idiot alot of the time.

Of course I’m not saying that all these “challenging” verses have straightforward interpretations that we’re blatanly ignoring. I think we need serious conversation and prayer about the difficult sayings of Jesus. However, I despise when we avoid those difficult conversations by quickly muzzling Jesus with a slick interpretation that assumes the easy route.

I think the world is waiting for a church that is better at being obedient than slick.

I’ve been wrestling for sometime with the question of whether or not Christians should have excess money.  Of course we give our 10% to “God” (church or charity) but the beauty is that’s a sliding scale.  It hurts you alot when your poor but the wealthier you get the easier it is to stomach.  If you’re making 10 million/yr. then you still get to keep 9 million!  What I’m wrestling with is whether it’s morally defensible to keep 9 million or 9 thousand for yourself.  How do we justify having thousands in the bank while others go without?

Let’s say you have a friend across the street who’s starving to death.  If you had an extra dollar wouldn’t you give it to him?  This is basic kindergarten stuff right?  Now let’s say that person is a homeless aids orphan in South Africa.  Would you still give the money?

To live happily I need less than I think. A small home for my wife and family. Heat in the winter. A few hundred dollars worth of groceries each month. Gas for my car. Clothes, coffee, books, running shoes, and the occasional meal at Cafe Brazil! Let’s say that comes out to $30,000/year in expenses. Should I give the rest away? What about retirement, kids college funds, braces, vacations, and icecream?  The items that aren’t essential but sort of feel that way.  Are those things wrong of me to indulge in? Can I justify socking away $500,000 over my life time for when I get old, while others go without?  What does God require of me?

A few years ago I realized that I grew up in one of the most prosperous towns in the world. I was rich. Of course, now days I bring in a salary that most people would consider modest.  However, compared to most of the world I’m rolling in money.  At what point do I say, “Okay, my family and I have enough. Everything else is given away.” Something in my conscious is screaming that I have to make that decision but I keep holding off because I don’t want to sacrifice too much. I’m afraid that I’ll look back and regret not giving more to my kid’s college funds, retirement, etc. That I’ll regret not being “wise” with my money. Doesn’t proverbs say something about an ant storing up for winter being a good thing? Where is the line between being a wise ant and being the fool that Jesus chastises in the story of the man who built bigger and bigger barns instead of giving away what he didn’t need.

To sum it up I guess I’m wondering how much money a Christian keep for himself and his family.  God help me.