"When people ask [about your faith], they don't want to hear merely about a great God. They don't want to hear merely about redemptive history, an infallible book, or a covenant people who are a constant testimony to the real hand of God in history. They want to know about what's happening to you, what's going on in your life. You are saying, 'He is my fortress, he is my deliverer.' So they're going to want to know when the last time he delivered you was. What does deliverance mean? How does this really work? Sharing the good news is often about sharing the personal good news of your life in Christ and not the abstract and generalized good news. They want to hear about your personal relationship to this personal God, who is the foundation of all of reality."
- Dallas Willard, The Allure of Gentleness, p. 144-145
A group of friends of mine and I have been reading Dallas Willard's most recent book together this summer. It's a compilation of a few of his lectures about apologetics and evangelism, and for the most part, it's been a fun book to read and discuss. The richness and depth, though, of our discussions hasn't always been about the book or it's subjects. It's happened when we've told stories, shared personally, and tried to position Willard's teaching in a way that speaks to "normal" life.
I appreciate the fact that the church tradition I'm a part of embraces theological education. I value greatly the education I was gifted at Fuller Seminary, and I think there's always something to be gained from studying the Bible and theology in-depth. However, the shadow-side of any academic pursuit (or any pursuit in life, really) is that your project becomes your reality. Everything about your life ebbs and flows and swirls around knowledge (which in itself isn't a bad thing), which then takes a front seat in a way that becomes unhealthy. A lot of what I find challenging about ministry - and what I think has led us into troubled waters in mainline traditions in America - is an over-reliance on being able to walk and talk academically and not as much with a voice or posture which connects with people where they are.
Back to Willard. His point, I think, is that people outside of faith in Christ need to hear what my faith in Christ actually looks like, smells like, tastes like, costs me daily to pursue. It can't be all sunshine and rainbows, so what is it?
Well, this summer, it's been a great journey, not just as a preacher and leader and servant at FPC, but it's also been a great journey of discipleship. My faith in Christ has allowed me to pull into the parking lot at church day after day, pause for a moment before I get out of my car, and admit to the Lord, "There's no way I can do this by myself. Please empower your servant, your people, to do your work today, Lord." In this special season of life and ministry, admitting that I'm not enough (and Jesus certainly is enough) has been critical, and I hope that continues into the future. This Sunday, I'll share one of the most challenging leadership lessons I've learned this summer, and I hope you'll be there and be encouraged.
In Christ,
Travis
PS - Speaking of being encouraged, the photos above are from VBS two weeks ago. Kids wrote lessons they'd learned about God on quilt squares. Pretty amazing, huh?
No comments:
Post a Comment