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Why Education?

I often get asked, why education?

Why a Christian grad school focusing on theology, justice and leadership studies? Why sink time, energy and money into something like that—aren’t there enough schools out there?

The answer is that education, and Kilns College specifically, is not just a project that takes time, energy and money; but, rather, it’s a passion, a conviction and a calling that commands my life. I believe education is not just a good thing, but a necessary thing.

Only a culture privileged enough to have government supplied education through 12th grade and an abundance of academic institutions to go farther and deeper takes education for granted. I have met men and women from around the world where education (and certainly quality education) is scarce who know that at a deep level it isn’t just one good thing among many, but that it is indispensable. This is true for gaining wisdom, knowledge and maturity and it is true for advancing in business and creating vocational opportunity. It is also true for theology, history, religion and faith—Christianity becomes a cut flower the minute we disconnect ourselves from the deep and sustained teaching of scripture, church history, and the intersection of faith and culture.

I believe in education. I believe in quality and advanced Christian education. I have given much of my adult life tirelessly to advance it.

Unfortunately, like the seeds sown in spring, the fruit of education is always farther down the road and manifests in a different season. It’s hard to demonstrate its value on the spot, in the moment, or on demand. Education is less a felt urgency than a needed priority.

Because it doesn’t register as a felt urgency—a burning building—education is one of the hardest things for which to raise capital and development funds.

No school is able to operate purely as a business; government schools are government funded. State schools are subsidized. Private schools depend heavily on grants, endowments and alumni associations.

Likewise, Kilns College requires outside help from those who recognize the value of education.

Kilns College needs thoughtful individuals who recognize many of the urgent problems we long to address are best dealt with through education—through the training of Christian men and women, through equipping more effective and efficient engagement in culture locally and globally, through investing into the future of the church and future leaders. Isn’t that how Jesus dealt with the house on fire when he walked Palestine?

Certainly Jesus helped and healed, but primarily he was a Rabbi… a teacher, a professor. In fact, Jesus was teaching “advanced” or graduate studies to twelve students within the Jewish system of his day. He was dealing with the contemporary by investing into the future.

As the end of year approaches, I’d humbly ask you to consider partnering with us… our vision at this point far outstrips our resources.

I know of very few organizations who know how to invest and stretch a dollar like Kilns College.

Would you consider joining us with a Year End Tax Deductible Donation?

[If you would like more information about our distance learning options, click here.]

Living the Questions

Photo Credit: Gwenael Piaser, Creative Commons

This article was recently picked up by a syndicated blog – you can read the post here, or below.

While in seminary, I ran across the author Henri Nouwen, who articulated the tension—or paradox—of faith as well as anyone I have read.

His answer, unlike most I have heard, does not whitewash the messiness of life or explain away the mystery of God. Rather, Nouwen wrote that an essential part of life is learning to “live the questions” faith engenders.

To wait on the Lord.

To pray our pain.

To accept confusion.

Nouwen’s answer resonates with the honest picture of faith I see in Scripture. Life is, as stated by my Old Testament professor, relentlessly difficult.

Jesus promised suffering in Matthew 16:24, and as testified in Scripture, those most clearly called by God and most definitively used by God often are given the most challenging circumstances.

Life is messy. God is mysterious. And accepting this tension-filled truth, no matter the circumstances, is the pathway to peace.

This holiday season, I find myself struggling to accept this as much as I have in a long time and to ground myself once again in “living the question.”

My heart hurts with the brokenness, pain and anger that characterize race issues in America and the tilted scales of justice so many experience.

My mind shuts down over global issues of war, terror and gender violence at the root of so much injustice in the world.

My soul aches for the man who called today about his nephew shot in Afghanistan, the biopsy report I received yesterday of a mother from church and the father who passed away today leaving behind a son and daughter both under the age of three—who will never have a concrete memory of their dad.

One of the things that typifies being a child is that you are often sheltered from the weather outside—from the scary, the messy and the sheer magnitude of evil and suffering.

When, as an adult, I find myself wanting to whitewash the issues, push them down below my conscious thoughts, or squeeze them out with holiday shopping and movie watching, I realize I’m simply wishing to be a child again.

The will to hide from the world.

Saint Paul said, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”

I’m struggling. I know others are struggling. I know many are struggling far greater than I.

Choosing faith, despite the messiness of life and the mystery of God, however, is the essence of biblical trust. It is the faith in the “not yet” of many of God’s promises about His reign of justice and commitment that every tear shall be wiped away.

Paul continues, “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love… but the greatest of these is love.”

Life is relentlessly difficult.

As we grow older and grow up, as Christians, we can’t shrink from pain, we can’t gloss over the struggle of others in order to maintain our illusions and distance, we can’t hide or pretend.

But the term Advent points to the coming of Christ into the world. The one bringing peace to the world was needed then as now.

Ours is to engage.

Ours is to stand together in solidarity.

Ours is to suffer forward (is that not what biblical faith is?).

Ours is, as Nouwen said, “to learn to live the questions.”

And ours is to lament with the Psalmist crying, “Come, Lord! Come.”

Pastors, You’re Doing a Great Job

Guest Post by Andrea Lucado

I’m the only member of my immediate who has never worked in full-time ministry. My little sister, her husband, my dad and my older sister’s husband have all been in or are in full-time ministry. By default, my older sister and mom have also practically been on the church staff full time, as ministers’ wives will understand.

Because of this, I’ve observed a lot about pastors and their jobs and their lives. Part of the reason I’m not in full-time church work is because I know it is very very hard and, honestly, I don’t think I’m cut out for it.

In ministry, the line between work and personal life is almost invisible. That means, you are always on. Responding to a text from a distressed teen after 10pm, going to a graduation party, attending a wedding for a couple in your congregation—these are all good things and normal to the average eye, but in many ways, they are also your work. Going to stuff and having intentional conversations, it’s your job, so you have to be extra good at it. You have to be on.

My job is easy. I work during the day; I shut it off at night. I go to a party if I want to and I don’t go if I don’t want to. And if I go and don’t want to be there, I’m lame and talk to one person and leave. I’m allowed to do this, to make my social life what I want it to be. But for pastors? That’s not really a luxury.

I’ve heard crazy stories about pastors being asked to lunch by members of his congregation only to be berated for his last sermon. I’ve seen people saying mean things about pastors on the internet, shaming them for their mistakes. Getting mad at them for being human and broken, like the rest of us. (To that, all I have to say is, he probably has a daughter, and she could go without seeing and hearing cruel things about her father online.) I’ve seen hints of defeat and tiredness in so many pastors’, youth leaders’ and ministers’ lives. I’ve talked to friends who have felt burned out and depressed. The call to ministry is truly a unique call, and the work of pastors takes more from them than regular types of work.

I sat down with my dad recently to interview him for a story in a magazine. It was fun and weird to really ask my dad about his job. We don’t do this often as children, ask our parents about their day-to-day work, how they got to where they are in their careers. We care more about their job as our parents than we do about their jobs out in the world. My dad has been in full-time ministry for about 37 years. That’s a long time, but there is nowhere he would rather be. He had funny and positive stories to share. It made me think about other kind, humble pastors I’ve come across. For them to still have a positive attitude so many years into the ministry, I’m finally starting to feel blown away by that.

Everyone wants everything from his or her pastor. The single people in the church want to feel included. The married people want to feel included. The children want to feel included. The teens want to feel included. We all want our pastors to give us this special place, just for us. I’ve seen my family members get pulled in different directions and I’ve seen this happen to my friends. Rather than seeking out a place to serve on our own, we want our church leaders to do it for us. When they could really use a note of encouragement, we send them an email criticizing how that weekend’s youth retreat went. They rarely receive encouragement from the people they need it from the most: us, their congregation.

So right now, I’d like to say something to the pastors I know and to the pastors I don’t. You’re going a great job. Truly, you are. You made ten people happy last week and that left two people grumbling in the corner and that’s ok. Don’t worry about them. Don’t about us. We’re grumblers and we’re good at it. I consider your job sacred. Really. I couldn’t do it. Most of us couldn’t do it. Thank you for doing it. For listening to us and reading all the emails and creating lessons and sermons that impacted our lives. Thank you for studying scripture and reading the theology books that I don’t understand. Thank you for being at our stuff and being there for us, our friends, and our kids. Thank you for going to the bedsides of the dying and the baptisms of the living. I don’t know all that you do when you step off the pulpit, how much your job continues throughout the week, but know that your job as a spiritual leader is considered great, and you are doing a great job at it.

The Grand Paradox

Can you do me a favor?

I’ve been pouring my heart and soul into a book project where I tried to distill all of my passion and thinking from two decades into a book on the pursuit of God and the nature of Christian spirituality.

It has been a long and challenging experience. It has left me at times exhausted and wondering if I needed to learn fully many of the lessons in the book before it launches this January.

It has also been refreshing and humbling. Many of those I would call friends have had a hand in helping refine and develop the text. And many whom I deeply respect have been willing to put their name to it by way of endorsement.

Here is a note that just came in from Nicholas Wolterstorff:

Many of those who write about faith have an idealized version
of faith in mind, which they describe in cliché-ridden language
that makes those Christians who do not experience such faith feel
either guilty or angry. In The Grand Paradox, Ken Wytsma talks
about actual faith, not idealized faith. The faith of which he
speaks is not only for  our messy world but also of  our messy
world—while yet trusting and revealing God. Thoroughly honest,
never evasive, free of clichés, deeply Christian, encouraging
rather than scolding in its tone, it is the most perceptive and
helpful discussion of faith that I know of.

Nicholas Wolterstorff, Noah Porter
Professor Emeritus of Philosophical
Theology, Yale University, Senior Research
Fellow, Institute for Advanced Studies in
Culture, University of Virginia

So, the favor I was asking: would you consider joining through one of the following ways?

If you’re a blogger, would you consider joining the Launch Team by filling out the form below?

If you’re a pastor, would you consider doing a sermon series on faith based around the themes of the book or gather a small group to study it?

If you’re looking for last minute Christmas presents, would you consider pre-ordering the book on Barnes and Noble or Amazon and wrapping the order confirmation as a gift or using as a stocking stuffer? (One of the biggest pieces of getting a book picked up and in stock are based off of consistent pre-sales across many zip codes.)

More than any of that, however, would you be willing to help pray for me and the launch of this book that it might help some people on their faith journey and may serve in some small way to glorify God?

Name *


Email *

Blog *


@twitter username *


Joyful Are Those

Photo Credit: The World of Banksy Art

Guest Post by Emily Hill

This year I’m sensing and processing the season of advent in a way that I never have before.

My soul is filled with mourning and grief over racial injustice in our individual lives and in our nation. The evidence and emotion in this area are building and I wonder when we will reach the tipping point. When will all of the outcry lead to a change? In addition to this, my heart is heavy with the continued violence against women around the world and aches with those who are suffering in their daily lives and relationships.

During this longing and pain filled season I find myself drawn to the Beatitudes—though it might not be a typical text for advent.

I’m asking anew, what does this familiar, beautiful text really mean? How do we interpret them and how do we apply them? The late theologian Glen Stassen argues that they are far from being high-minded ideals that we must strive for or legalistic requirements, as some Christians interpret them. Rather, consistent with Old Testament understanding, prophetic writing, and the life and ministry of Christ, they are the proclamation of the good news of the reign of God.

He writes, “The Sermon on the Mount is not first of all about what we should do. It is first of all about what God is already doing. It is about God’s presence, the breakthrough of God’s kingdom in Jesus. It is about God’s grace, God’s loving deliverance form various kinds of bondage in the vicious cycles we get stuck in, and deliverance into community with God and others.[1]

Based on his research about the original Greek words and the context of their use in relation to the reign of God throughout scripture, Stassen translates the Beatitudes this way:

Joyful are those who are poor and humble before God,
for theirs is the reign of God.
Joyful are those who are deeply saddened to the point of action,
for they will be comforted.
Joyful are those whose wills are surrendered to God,
for they will inherit the earth.
Joyful are those who hunger and thirst for restorative justice,
for they will be filled.
Joyful are those who practice compassion in action,
for they will receive God’s compassion.
Joyful are those who seek God’s will in all that they are and do,
for they will see God.
Joyful are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Joyful are those who suffer because of working for restorative justice,
for theirs is the reign of God.
Joyful are you when they criticize, persecute, and
slander you, because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in God.
For in the same way they persecuted the prophets before you. [2]

Those who are poor and humble before God are not rewarded because being poor and humble is somehow more virtuous. Rather, they experience joy because God is acting on their behalf. The poor and humble, those who thirst for justice, who are moved to compassionate action, who seek peace and restoration, are joyful because God is gracious and God is acting to deliver them.

This is the good news. It’s not about what we do, but what God is doing already. Joy, peace, comfort, and God’s presence are the promises of the kingdom. Though it’s ultimate fulfillment is yet to come, it is not a future action alone, God is acting now and delivering now. He is giving joy, peace, and fulfillment now.

The good news of Christ, our hope in the advent and in our present struggles, is that Christ is delivering us. He is making all things new.

Hope in the promise is the anchor for our souls. But it is an active hope, not a passive hope. God calls us to live in accordance with the promise and bear witness to his reconciliation in the community of the church in the world. When I’m lost and overwhelmed I need to live expectantly. I need to look for God’s work of deliverance and how I can act alongside it.

This is a truth we can put our faith in as we wait for the birth of Christ and the coming of justice: God is working. Though the work of racial reconciliation is difficult and overwhelming, I can be assured that God is at work and I can look for ways to participate with him.

When we act faithfully in accordance with this truth, God reveals himself to us. By participating in his kingdom we find our truest joy.

Joyful are those who are deeply saddened to the point of action, for they will be comforted.
Joyful are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Joyful are those who suffer because of restorative justice, for theirs is the reign of God.

So in this season of longing and anticipation, I pray for more of God’s deliverance for you, for me, and for the world. I pray for more of God’s joy and comfort. I wait expectantly and I pray for the ability to act expectantly.

[1] Glen H. Stassen, Living the Sermon on the Mount (San Francisco: Wiley Press, 2006), 8.

[2] Stassen details the research behind his translation in Chapter 3 of Living the Sermon on the Mount: A Practical Guide for Grace and Deliverance.

Until Hope and History Rhyme

Photo Credit: Jon S, Creative Commons

Guest Post by Todd Deatherage

Some days I have to steel myself just to read the morning paper. Today’s front page includes a story about reputable scientists suggesting global warming trends are worse than previously thought. They are predicting that one-third of the western Antarctic ice shelf may be gone within the next 100 to 200 years, raising global sea levels by 11 feet.

The civil war continues in Syria. More than 2 million people are displaced from their homes, and it’s winter again. ISIS militants control vast swaths of Iraqi and Syrian territory, and historic communities, including ancient Christian ones, are being uprooted and destroyed.

Here in my homeland, black and white Americans continue to experience a shared history in very different ways. Racism, that pernicious legacy of our national ‘original sin,’ continues to pass down in mutated forms from generation to generation. The death of black young men at the hands of law enforcement officers is, tragically, nothing new but has broken through into the national discourse, at least for the moment.

Laying my paper and the urgent crises of the day aside, I turn to an Advent reading. In this I begin to make the shift from the immediacy of time and place to a more cosmic and timeless view, to the God who came near to bring healing and redemption. If done properly, this is not escapism.

This yearly journey of Advent takes me into the dark world of first century Palestine, to a specific time and place not entirely unlike my own. A vast empire exacted both order and its own will on the Mediterranean world. Ruthless displays of empirical power were often used to frighten and intimidate. Religious leaders were doing what religious leaders often do, reducing God to a small container, and one of their own making, obscuring the view of the God of mercy and justice and human flourishing. Ethnic and tribal identities distorted the brotherhood and sisterhood of all humanity as image bearers of God. Old hatreds and prejudices went unquestioned.

Into the mud and muck of this specific time and place, the eternal God made himself known in the person of Jesus, the Christ. We were given the gift of the Divine coming, the beginning of our rescue.

The Word became flesh. As a consequence, we now know what it looks like to love and forgive enemies, to submit and serve, to identify with the marginalized and powerless, to put aside prejudices, to recognize our neighbor as anyone in need, and to live counter to the prevailing culture of the day.

This is the Gospel, and it is good news for the ages. None of this absolves me of my own implication in the front-page news of today. Advent reminds me that in every age, the brokenness and darkness threaten to overwhelm, yet there are also men and women who desperately want the world to be different, to be the way it was meant to be.

Advent stirs in us that holy desire for the world to be made new. To go through the Advent season with a sense of both longing and expectancy is to learn to live in the messiness of today with a sense of hopefulness.

A properly observed Advent does two important things. One, it prevents a descent into despair because we know that the God who came brought with him the announcement of a different way of doing business, a kingdom built on true shalom, one in which—to borrow from the Irish poet Seamus Heaney—hope and history will rhyme.

Second, a properly observed Advent helps us resist the temptation to skip fully ahead to the end with him, and by that I mean to that day when all things are made new. This is of course the day we all long for, the day when that which existed in the creation of the world is fully restored.

But the God we serve took on the form of a man and, standing somewhere outside the village of Bethany, wept over the death of Lazarus his friend, and then again on the Mount of Olives over the brokenness of Jerusalem. He spent his time with the poor in spirit and the outcasts. He healed diseases and afflictions.

Advent teaches us how to live as we wait. To know that because the world’s brokenness, as well as our own, breaks the heart of God, it must break our hearts, too. It implicates us in the way things turn out and teaches us to live differently, to fully embrace values of that kingdom which has come but not yet fully. It affirms our hearts’ longing for rescue, our cry, “O come, Emmanuel, and ransom us.”

But it also pushes us on into the Bethlehem stable, into Samaritan villages and over to Jacob’s Well, to the homes of tax collectors, to dark Gethsemane and beyond. It is into these places that Emmanuel came.

Advent compels us to go with Him to the enslaved and the captive, to the occupied and the terrorized, to the impoverished of body and spirit, to those without access to justice, to the sick and to the voiceless. To Ferguson and Appalachia. To the slums of Mumbai, the Nineveh Plain, and the Gaza Strip.

It pushes us to join with God in his redemption of the world, to bring renewal, restoration, and healing, to shine light in the darkness.

A day will come when Emmanuel will make hope and history rhyme at last. But Advent reminds us that we are not alone in our present troubles. God is with us this day, too, and he invites us to labor with him this day in his vineyard.

Learning to Ask for Help

Photo Credit: Keoki Seu, Creative Commons

You can say that I’m “type A.”

My mom likes to show me the note my 2nd grade teacher (to be later repeated by my 3rd, 4th and 5th grade teachers) sent home to her gently asking her to remind me that the teacher was the authority in the class, not me.

I have always been assertive. I tend to make quick decisions and I lean forward into life pretty naturally as a leader.

As a result, I’ve found that my answer to most difficulties in life that deal with time or too many challenging circumstances usually takes the form of thinking through time-management.

How can I make myself more efficient?

How can I reorganize my schedule?

What systems or structures could I change to increase output or decrease redundancy?

How can I better optimize things to stay ahead or stay afloat?

Because of the way I’m wired, this last stretch of life has been hard for me.

I’ve found that, even with my best effort at time-management, I haven’t been able to go it alone.

I’ve been starting to ask for help lately.

Asking for help, however, seems like admitting failure. It makes me feel like I’m making a public declaration that I’m not smart enough or competent enough to figure out or handle my own stuff.

At least that’s how it makes me feel.

But is asking for help really failure? Despite my natural inclination to feel that way, I obviously don’t think it is.

There are times when grace is best shown, not always in giving, but sometimes in receiving.

There are times when grace is more fully manifest, not in our strength, but in our weakness.

There are times when people feel most connected to us, not in our independence, but in our dependence on them.

There are times when we learn best, not because we’re out in front of life, but because we’re behind in life.

There are times when things need to be cut from schedules, not because it’s easy or logical, but necessary. (Pruning is something I’m learning God sometimes forces on us.)

I’ve always known that strong personalities help get things done, but I’m now learning (as Michael Jordan once learned) that strong teams are what’s needed for true success.

Because of life demands, ministry demands, health issues, energy and time constraints, I’m learning to have to ask for help.

I don’t like it, but maybe we’re better when we ask for help?

Re-Post: My Top 5 Christian Books

This was one of the better received blog posts over the last year so I thought I’d share it again in case you need some holiday gift ideas!

I was recently asked what Christian books have had the biggest impact on my life. Like many people who enjoy reading, I can trace a lot of my thinking and worldview to a few key books that I read at just the right time or were simply so powerful they forever shaped my thinking. Below was my response to the Top 5 Christian Books that have changed my life:

Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold, by C.S. Lewis – This was C.S. Lewis’ favorite among his own writings. He wrote it later in life and it shows a deep understanding of our self-deception and the ways in which self-interest often masquerades as love of others. It’s a fictional myth that may lull you to sleep a bit until you get to the last third of the book and realize that Lewis has been setting you up the whole time. The back third of the book is some of the most genius thinking and writing that I’ve ever come across. Especially if you are an intuitive personality, you don’t want to miss experiencing this book at least once in your life.

Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life, by Henri Nouwen – Simply put, there is no other book that better articulates the felt quality of loneliness as the first third of this short work by Nouwen. If you are a single adult, struggle with loneliness, or want to have a deeper understanding of Christian community then this book is a must read.

Fear and Trembling, by Søren Kierkegaard – This short treatise on the story of Abraham & Isaac from the book of Genesis has shaped my understanding of faith more than any other book. In fact, I could easily say no work outside of the Bible has so shaped my adult life as this one. Kierkegaard, a Christian philosopher and one of the fathers of existentialism, can be a bit challenging to read so make sure you are committed to reading this before you start. If you stick with it till the end, it will change your life.

Christ the Center, by Dietrich Bonhoeffer – This book was compiled after Bonhoeffer’s death from the notes of students who were part of his lectures on Christology at the underground seminary at Finkenwalde. It’s an obscure book, short and easy to read, in which Bonhoeffer changes the starting point of how we try to understand Jesus from speculation to submission. The philosophical turn Bonhoeffer employs has profoundly influenced my ability to articulate a view on the authority of scripture that begins in faith and submission as a way of moving toward understanding.

Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God, by Dallas Willard – There are a lot of great works on prayer, such as Madame Guyon’s Experiencing God Through Prayer and some of the more popular work by Philip Yancey, but no book on prayer I’ve read has dealt as directly with my desires, doubts and fears as poignantly as Dallas Willard’s treatise does. The late Dallas Willard taught philosophy at USC and has a way of making distinctions, clarifying concepts, and demonstrating truths that empower and equip a person to understand and take hold of all the promises on prayer discussed in the New Testament.

Do you have any titles to add to the top Christian book list? If so, feel free to add your recommendations and thoughts in the comment section below.

Unleashing Hell

Photo Credit: Pete, Flickr Creative Commons

Guest Post by Josh Butler

We are the ones, not God, who unleash the destructive power of hell in the world.

Many people think of hell as a place God creates to torture sinners. But in the biblical story, we are the authors of hell’s fury. On massive structural levels like sex-trafficking and genocide . . . on intimate, personal levels like pride, lust, rage and greed . . . the wildfire of our sin sets God’s good earth aflame.

Let’s take a quick look at hell as a destructive power.

A Destructive Power

Fire is used as a metaphor in Scripture for the damaging nature of our sin. There are other ways fire is used (I explore these more fully new book), but this is a good place to start. Isaiah says that “wickedness burns like a fire,” unleashing destruction in the community like the burning down of a forest. (Isaiah 9:18)

The community is like a forest; sin is like a fire.

Hosea says the hearts of wicked rulers burn “like an oven whose fire the baker need not stir.” As they plot their wicked plans for the community, “their passion smolders all night; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire. All of them are hot as an oven.” (Hosea 7:4-7) And the community is reduced to ashes.

Our red-hot sin leaves a trail of devastation in its wake.

In a passage that is particularly illuminating for our purposes here, James makes the same point:

“The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. (James 3:5-6)”

James tells us just as a small spark can burn down a forest, so our little tongue can unleash destruction. And when it does, notice where James says our tongue’s destructive power comes from: it is itself set on fire by hell.

Hell’s destructive power is unleashed through us. So . . .

  • When my coworker gossips in the neighboring cubicle, she is more than being annoying, she is breathing hell into the office.
  • When pride and rage fuel genocide, war-zones and conflicts around the world, this is more than an unfortunate reality, it is the wildfire of sin tearing heaven and earth apart.
  • When lust and greed build systems of sex-trafficking, pornography and forms of entertainment that exploit women and children, this is not only a heartbreaking tragedy, it is the power of hell unleashed in our world.

So what tools has Jesus given us to push back the flames?

Holiness and Justice

Jesus has given us holiness and justice as tools for the task.

Jesus confronts our tendency to ignore justice. When some Christian streams think of the power of hell, we envision Satan and his demons flying around in the air, trying to get us to use a Ouija board, go to a séance, or join a New Age cult. This assumption is disastrous because it strains out a gnat and swallows a camel; it misses the obvious. We assume God only cares about “spiritual” things, and “spiritual” things are assumed to be those that have nothing much to do with everyday, physical life.

This distracts vital time, energy, and resources from the more pressing, concrete, physical arenas of our world where Jesus says the power of hell has been unleashed.

Reclaiming this language has rhetorical power. Samantha Power, one of the world’s leading scholars on genocide, has titled her influential book on the subject A Problem from Hell. I don’t know whether she merely uses the phrase for its rhetorical power or if she truly believes in the spiritual framework the title suggests. But either way, her terminology is correct.

Genocide is a problem from hell.

There is a spiritual side to the most pressing problems of our world today that Jesus calls his followers to recognize.

Jesus also confronts our tendency to ignore holiness. I’ve worked alongside many Christians who labor tirelessly against war, conflict, and genocide in our world on a social level, while being prideful and self-righteous at home. Or who are passionately active in ending sex trafficking on a social level while being womanizers and greedy consumers in their personal lives. Jesus stands against us.

When rightfully battling the wicked tree of injustice in our world, we must not wrongfully ignore the wicked root in our own hearts.

Jesus raises the bar and calls us to a different kind of discipleship, to the pursuit of holiness. The classical language of vice can help us here, identifying things like lust, anger, greed, pride, gluttony, laziness, and envy. Like a “vice grip,” these are the ways that hell gets its tightening hold on our lives.

These are the sparks that start the wildfires. The poisoned wells that pollute the river. The roots that give rise to the noxious weeds.

These are areas where Jesus wants to heal us, to snuff out the wicked sparks that lie inside of us as he reconciles us to himself.

Let Me Heal You

Fortunately, Jesus’ question for us is not, “Are you good enough to get into my kingdom?” It is rather, “Will you let me heal you?” The Great Physician loves to heal, the Lamb desires to forgive, the King offers amnesty to all who will submit to the power of his life-giving reign.

And we need this healing, because we are the agents of destruction, the architects of demolition, who unleash hell’s wildfire flame into God’s good world.

There is good news for our world aflame: God is coming as King to establish his redemptive kingdom. He will kick out and contain the destructive power of hell that has raged like a wildfire for far too long. And there is more good news: God loves us all, rebels that we are, and wants to forgive us. Even though the power of hell has its roots in our wicked hearts, God wants to heal us and get it out.

God wants to shape us as agents of holiness and justice in his world today, prepared through the power of his Spirit for the life of the kingdom to come. 

This excerpt used with permission from Thomas Nelson Publishers.

The Grand Paradox Launch Team

I’m excited for the release of my second book, The Grand Paradox: The Messiness of Life, the Mystery of God and the Necessity of Faith, which is set for January 27th!

As part of the book launch, I’m looking for bloggers who would be willing to be a part of the Book Launch Team. There were over 150 people who signed up to help with Pursuing Justice: The Call to Live and Die for Bigger Things when it came out in 2012, and I’m hoping to grab an even larger group of friends this time.

The Grand Paradox: The Messiness of Life, the Mystery of God and the Necessity of Faith is a sincere attempt to look at the heart of Christian faith and the tension that arises from the messiness of life and the mystery of God. My prayer is that it would serve as a guide on the pursuit of God for many looking to go deeper and experience a greater intimacy with Him.

Launch Team Members will receive a PDF manuscript immediately for book review purposes, a free copy of the hardback when it releases, be looped in on Thomas Nelson promotional elements and book giveaway opportunities for your blog and have your book reviews or posts shared to everyone on the team.

I’d love your help! If you are willing (even if you have a social media presence, but no blog) please fill out the form below and share this post with your blogger friends!

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Give With Purpose

Guest Post by Rachel Goble
December is a month of generosity: we give to our favorite charities, we buy presents for our loved ones and volunteer at the local food bank. The SOLD Project has developed some really creative ways to expand our giving even further – to help prevent child exploitation. So this year, as you practice generosity, check out the various ways you can take that even further. Whether it’s bookmarking the Amazon Smile page to give a percentage of all your Amazon shopping to SOLD, or checking out our trendy store for gifts, or making a donation in someone’s honor – let’s give with purpose this year.

Thoughts on Ferguson

Yesterday my friends Donna and Leroy Barber visited Antioch for a Q&A session on Ferguson and what it means for faith and race relations in America. They also stuck around for a conversation with students and others in the Kilns College community to discuss in greater depth the issues surrounding Ferguson and the deeper needs for knowledge, understanding and reconciliation regarding race in America.

Like many, I’ve watched more news in the last week than I can remember and have run the gamut of emotions. But mainly I have a deep sadness with regard to the lack of empathy that still seems to pervade much of culture regarding the dignity, worth and experience of people of color.

If I had found the voice to write a blog post in the middle of my own experience and emotion, I think it would have looked a lot like this one from my friend Kevin Butcher.

My mind and heart is a jumbled up and convoluted mess.  I’m sad and I’m angry and of course it’s about the confusion and deep and pervasive pain in Ferguson.  And if you aren’t sad and angry then I would say maybe something died inside of you a long time ago.  Because there’s a young man dead and parents who will never, ever get over it and there are businesses being burned and a whole lot of folks hating on one another and a whole bunch of others who are living in fear for their families…and so much more pain on so many levels.  But what makes me just as sad and just as angry is what Ferguson says about the state of relational affairs in our nation as a whole.  We didn’t just become a relational mess.  We’ve been a relational mess.  Ferguson simply displays the anger, tension and frustration that have been lingering beneath the surface of our lives…well, forever. Continue reading Kevin’s thoughts here.

I also really appreciate the tone and the balance of this piece by my friend David Bailey. As an African American musician and worship leader, he seeks to bring about reconciliation through songs and art. His call for broader relationship and diversity resonates deeply with me.

Are we listening? We as a Christian community have to learn to listen across racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic lines. Our brothers and sisters in Ferguson are mourning without hope. Our brothers and sisters don’t feel heard and destroying property gives voice to the voiceless.

Now let me be clear, rioting is wrong. With that said, it’s important to understand that this type of rioting is a misplaced cry for shalom. The community in Ferguson is crying out for things to be woven back together the way that God intended them to be.

It is clear that we have a significant population of people in America who do not believe that the justice system is fair to ALL people and we have some other people who believe that the justice system is perfectly fine. No matter what your opinion is on the matter, this reality is not Shalom, therefore we need to pray…

Come, Lord, Come! Read the rest of David’s post here

Below is a short clip from from Leroy Barber – it’s a passionate plea for standing in solidarity with our brothers and sisters.

In all of the debates that continue to swirl around, I keep being reminded of the late Steven Covey’s words that we should “Seek first to understand, then to be understood.”

Quotes on Humility from Andrew Murray

Humility: The Journey Toward Holiness, by Andrew Murray, is one of my favorite books. After taking a recent spin through it again I thought I’d share a few quotes:

“Humility is the consent of the creature to let God be all, the current of itself to his working alone.”

“It is not something that we bring to God, or that he bestows; it is simply the sense of entire nothingness that comes when we see how truly God is everything. When the creature realizes that this is a place of honor, and consents to be—with his will, his mind, and his affections—the vessel in which the life and glory of God are to work and manifest themselves, he sees that humility is simply acknowledging the truth of his position as creature and yielding to God His place.”

“Christ was nothing so that God might be all–and it was his source of perfect peace and joy.”

“It is only when we, like the Son, truly know and show that we can do nothing of ourselves that God will do everything.”

“The root of all virtue and grace, of all faith and acceptable worship, is that we know that we have nothing but what we receive, and bow in deepest humility to wait upon God for it.”

“It is only by the indwelling of Christ in His divine humility that we can become truly humble”

“It is not sin, but grace, that will make me know myself as a sinner…it is only grace that works that sweet humility that becomes joy to the soul as its second nature.”

Here are some notable quotes from other theologians included in the book:

“The more humble a man is in himself, the more obedient toward God, the wiser will he be in all things, and the more shall his soul be at peace.” Thomas A Kempis

“Should you ask me: What is the first thing in religion? I should reply: the first, second, and third thing therein is humility.” Augustine

New MA in Innovation & Leadership at Kilns College

We have an exciting new Master of Arts program set to launch September 2015 (pending final state approval)! The Master of Arts in Innovation and Leadership is a unique one-year masters that will have broad relevance to teachers, pastors, non-profit workers and entrepreneurs.

I’ll just say it: THIS ONE IS EXCITING!!!

Check out the overview sheet below and make sure to reach out to Melissa McCreery at Kilns College if you’re interested in either on-site or distance options.


Photo Credit: Lawrence OP, Creative Commons

A good friend once sent me this quote from J.I. Packer on Worship:

“If worship services are so fixed that what’s being offered fits the expectations, the hopes, even the prejudices, of any one of these groups as opposed to the others, I don’t believe the worship style glorifies God.”

I really like it. It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the theological debates about What is worship? Should we use music to worship? What style of praise and music is most worshipful? etc. etc.

When I was in grad school with a bunch of other single guys who had nothing better to do than read Nietzsche, debate Dispensationalism and Covenant Theology and circle back endlessly to conversations on the modern church — we talked about worship stuff all the time.

With Antioch growing up from a tiny church plant of 30 folks to a pretty well established church, however, I find these questions and conversations coming back up in my mind more and more.

“When does a progressive church plant need to step back and look at what silly things it is doing that need to be re-envisioned?”

“Do we do the same things other churches did that we reacted to when we dreamed of Antioch in the beginning?”

“Does our use of music and the arts really keep God at the center — does it aim at the glory of God and the reconciliation of us to Him?”

That is why I love Packer’s quote above — if our prejudices… if our fixed routines… it we fit lazy expectations… if we favor one… then our style probably isn’t broad enough or rich enough to be God’s style of worship.

Thinking about worship isn’t about solving a problem like a math equation — it is much more like making an adjustment as in steering. The value is in the repetition. The value is in asking the question. The value is in recalibrating.

The Sound of Silence: White Christians & Race in America

Guest Post by Troy Jackson

One of the most provocative songs of the 1960s is Paul Simon’s “The Sound of Silence.” The haunting lyrics, which marginalize “the words of the prophets” to “subway walls and tenement halls” are poignant when it comes to white Christian engagement in the pains and struggles of African Americans. When it comes to bold prophetic leadership for racial justice, those looking for white Christian voices have, more often than not, been met with the Sound of Silence.

The need for white Christian engagement in racial justice is greater today than at any time since the 1960s, when Paul Simon’s tune hit the charts. Why do I say this? Well, as a pastor with a doctorate in US history coupled with several years working for racial and economic justice, I have arrived at a startling conclusion: The circumstances facing young people of color in the United States are the worst they have been since the age of Jim Crow.

Before you stop reading, let me share what I do not mean by this analysis:

  1. I am not saying that all white people and white Christians are racists. Many white Christians care deeply about racial justice and reconciliation. The intentionality around race within the white church continues to grow.
  2.  I am not suggesting that overt prejudice and racism are equivalent to what they were in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. By and large, we are far less likely to participate in racist behaviors, language, and practices than we were in the 1950s. Racial epitaphs are taboo in the public arena. And legal segregation is a thing of the past.
  3. I also recognize that opportunities for advancement for some people of color are greater than at any time in US History. This is most obvious in the realm of politics, where we have had an African American Attorney General, Secretary of State, and President within the last decade.

So what do I mean? Well, when it comes to outcomes and opportunities for African Americans, things are getting worse.

Gun violence continues to plague many urban neighborhoods, and the funerals of young children and teens are common-place in many neighborhoods where work and jobs have disappeared. When added to the deaths of unarmed African Americans like Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and John Crawford III, many young people of color are wondering if black and brown lives even matter to our nation, and to our faith communities.

The staggering impact of mass incarceration adds to this sense of despair. As Michelle Alexander chronicles in The New Jim Crow, a racialized execution of the War on Drugs has in fact been a war on people of color, incarcerating African Americans at unprecedented rates: over 2 million people in the USA are in prison, roughly 7 times the number behind bars in 1980. And today, there are more African Americans under correctional control than were enslaved in 1850.

Almost any statistical indicator adds to the story of increased despair by people of color in this country. The unemployment rate for African Americans remains at least 2X that of whites. Increased efforts to restrict voting through voter ID bills and limiting early voting opportunities have disproportionately affected people of color. And we could go on and on with these disparities.

So how might we respond? Let me suggest four ways white Christians should engage the growing despair and pain of young people of color.

  1. Listen: We must build relationships with people of color, and honestly care about their experiences and perspectives. The goal should not be to seek approval or validation by people of color, or that we are somehow forgiven or absolved from our racialized history and participation in what is all too often a racist nation. We listen to understand.
  2. Learn: We need to become students of our history and care about the voices of people of color both now and in the past. I recently co-authored a book called Forgive Us: Confessions of a Compromised Faith that explores the historic sins of the American Church, and includes a chapter on sins against African Americans. But don’t stop there. Read The New Jim Crow, Race Matters, by Cornel West and The Autobiography of Malcolm X and The Cross and the Lynching Tree by James Cone. Taking time to learn demonstrates care and concern.
  3. Solidarity: Even if we do not fully understand or even agree with the perspectives and views of young people of color, we can stand with them as they struggle. We are called to mourn with those who mourn. Right now, young people of color are mourning. And we should take our mourning public, standing with them as they grieve and protest and work for justice.
  4. Justice: Sooner or later, we need to start deconstructing evil systems that conspire against people of color in this nation. We need to continue to respond to injustice with charity and development, and couple this with hard work to take on financial systems, justice systems, corporate systems, and political systems that benefit from injustice and work against people of color.

The call of Micah is not to simply reflect upon justice, but to do justice. This demands risk and true prophetic ministry. Jesus’ amazing love, grace, and justice demand an end to the days when the white church’s response to racial injustice amounts to “The Sound of Silence.”

Welcome Pete Kelley!

The Table Series Part I :: Jesus Eats with Sinners from Antioch Church on Vimeo.

Ben Lowe on Doing Good Without Giving Up

Ben Lowe is on staff with the Evangelical Environmental Network and serves as the national spokesperson for Young Evangelicals for Climate Action. Ben was raised a missionary kid in Southeast Asia and now lives in community in a refugee and immigrant neighborhood outside Chicago, where he ran for US Congress in 2010. He is a graduate of Wheaton College (IL) and the author of Doing Good Without Giving Up: Sustaining Social Action in a World That’s Hard to Change and Green Revolution: Coming Together to Care for Creation.

KW: What are some positive cultural trends you are seeing with regard to justice and justice work?

BL: It’s been exciting over the last decade to witness biblical justice become a much more mainstream and integral priority across many churches and campuses. In some hopeful ways and places, justice concerns are even transcending partisan politics and overcoming entrenched conservative/progressive stereotypes. Numerous books and resources are available to help ground and sustain this growth, along with important gatherings like the Justice Conference and groups such as the Christian Community Development Association. This is all tremendously encouraging.

KW: How do you think we’ve created an idol out of doing justice?

BL: There’s a whole chapter in the book about idolatry in our activism and advocacy. It takes on many different forms—I write about how we idolize ourselves, others, or even the cause—but whenever we set anything apart from or put anything ahead of God in our justice work, we know we’re off track. Jesus belongs at the center of all we are and do and our overriding goal is always to be faithful to him. Faithfulness is how we define success as followers of Christ, and out of faithfulness comes fruitfulness (see John 15:5).

KW: What are some of the practices you discuss for helping sustain Christ-centered justice?

BL: Each chapter in the second half of the book focuses on a particular practice or theme that has been an essential part of faithful activism and advocacy for me and others through the years. Topics include loving sacrificially, being prophetic, practicing contemplation, remembering the Sabbath, dealing with opposition, investing in community, and more. These aren’t quick tips or tricks, but rather are spiritual disciplines for all of us to intentionally cultivate over time.

KW: Can you illustrate how one of those practices has been helpful for you?

BL: In the book I share about an intense burnout experience and how my path to recovery included working with mentors and advisors to develop boundaries and start taking the Sabbath, contemplation, and community much more seriously. While these practices have all been instrumental in protecting me from further burnout, having a safety net of mentors and advisors to help catch me in the downward spiral was critical. We don’t run this race alone. Seeking out mentors who can help guide us in the work God is calling us to do, and the people God is calling us to become, is essential, life-giving, and often neglected.

KW: What is your role at EEN? What message would you like to give the church about creation care and justice?

BL: I help spearhead Young Evangelicals for Climate Action ( and am also involved in our growing collaborations with mission agencies, relief and development organizations, and other creation care groups. Caring for creation is an integral issue of biblical justice, a matter of life and health, and a joyful calling for all followers of Christ.

I pray in particular that God will give us the wisdom and courage to face up to the urgent moral, environmental, and humanitarian challenge of climate change. We have a prophetic opportunity here to live out the love of Christ by 1) helping communities prepare for what are now unavoidable impacts, and 2) building a moral movement that will accelerate the transformation from further climate pollution to a clean economy and environment. There are much better ways forward here and I believe God is calling us to bear witness to a better world, and to do our part to bring it about. To inspire hope against fear, speak truth to power, and pursue love against injustice.

KW: As a Christian, what is your encouragement to the church?

BL: It won’t always be like this. One day there will be no more need for activism and advocacy. Shalom will be restored, all things will be renewed, and God’s kingdom will be fully established among us. But until that day comes, let us not give up on doing and sharing God’s good work, for we know it’s not in vain. We may not be able to overcome sin on our own, but Christ has done that for us. And with the Holy Spirit’s help we can overcome the effects of sin—including injustice, suffering, and degradation—wherever it rears its ugly head. Greater is the one who indwells and leads us, than the one who wrecks havoc and despair in the world.

KW: What is your hope for those that read this book?

BL: To be encouraged and empowered to persevere in following God faithfully in all areas of life and mission—particularly in being salt and light together in this good but groaning world.

Messages from Antioch Church

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