L.D. “Mick” Turner

Of late I have been exploring the issue of “Covenant” in general the provisions of the New Covenant in particular. I think the theme of covenant is one which we Christians do not invest much thought in. As I explore the issue at more depth, I am increasingly aware of just how tragic this lack of awareness is.

 As Christians, we are charged with being keepers of God’s great story of redemption, renewal, and restoration. It is our calling to keep the story pure and to, by the most effective means available, carry that great story to the ends of the earth. Perhaps more than anything else, God’s great story is grounded in the reality of a “covenant relationship.” In this article, and a few more to follow, we will look at this notion of “covenant” and explore just how it fits into God’s great story and also look at how covenantal relationship has far-reaching implications for how we conduct our lives.

 Let’s start with an interesting happening, recorded in the 15^th Chapter of Genesis.

 I have always been fascinated by the story of God’s dealings with Abram, later to be named Abraham, as described in Genesis 15. It is precisely here that the reality of God’s covenant with humanity entered history. Although we often interpret this watershed event as God making a covenant with Abram, in a very real sense, God also made a covenant with himself.

 In those ancient times, whenever two parties entered into a covenantal partnership they would take an animal, cut it in two, and place one half on each side of a designated path. After doing this, the partners would walk between the severed halves of the carcass, thereby pledging to honor the agreement they had entered into. This act was highly significant and highly symbolic. By walking through the designated path together, the two parties involved were promising to be faithful to the promise made, but also agreed to endure a harsh punishment should either one fail to keep the agreement. Basically, by walking between the halved carcass, they were in essence agreeing to undergo a like fate should they fail to honor their pledge. It was a serious business, indeed. One did not enter into a covenant lightly.

 Now, let’s pay close attention to what happened on that fateful night between God and Abram. In Genesis 15:12 we discover that:

 As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.

 While in this deep sleep, Abram was told by God about the future tribulations and blessings of the Hebrew people as well as the fact that God would be a righteous judge toward those who had oppressed Abrams’ descendents. Furthermore, Abram was told that he would live to a ripe old age and die in peace.

 Then something quite unusual happened. After laying out for the slumbering Abram the boundaries of the land his descendents would possess, a firepot and a torch passed through between the severed animals. God, in essence, walked through the pathway for both himself and Abram. Tim King and Frank Martin, in their excellent book entitled, Furious Pursuit, vividly describe why God chose to seal the covenant in this unusual manner:

 “God was so intent on seeing the promise fulfilled that he took no chances. He knew that his covenantal partner was fickle and skittish. When left to his own devices, Abram was driven by fear and shortsightedness, willing to pass off his wife as his sister or sire a son by his wife’s servant. Abram’s faith was like our faith – weak, undependable, and uncertain…..God knew that a covenant of this magnitude – an eternal covenant – had to be established on something much greater than human resolve. It required a level of faithfulness that only an all-powerful, all-loving, ever-faithful God could offer. So he walked alone between the halves of a bloody carcass. He pledged to carry the covenant on his own shoulders.”

 Whenever I pause, slow down, and allow the Holy Spirit to really speak to me on this issue, I sometimes am overwhelmed by both the insight and the compassion of our Father of Lights. Knowing all too well the fickle aspects of the human heart and the all-encompassing magnitude of the results of the Fall, God took it upon himself to seal this eternal covenant relationship. And in his act of walking between the halves of the carcass, we also see a symbolic foreshadowing of the future incarnation and sacrifice of Christ. Just as God put the keeping of the covenant with Abram on his own shoulders, Christ opened the way for the New Covenant, by taking all sin and iniquity upon his shoulders. We can even see the connection between these two events, the covenant with Abram and the crucifixion of Christ, as Jesus was forced to carry his own cross on his shoulders.

 The drama of that night is a chapter in God’s great story of restoration and renewal of his creation. The covenant implies that God seeks to deal with humankind through the parameters of “relationship.” The covenant has as its beating heart the honor and integrity of God the gracious giver and we the human receivers. Yet we also have responsibility in this partnership and we will discuss those responsibilities later. For now, let’s return to King and Martin, for they conclude with a powerful point:

 “Don’t miss the magnitude of this act….God was so convinced of his ability to remain faithful and so determined in his plan to restore us to himself that he was willing to lay everything on the line. When God walked between the severed animal pieces, he was saying to us, ‘This has never been about your faithfulness; it’s about my faithfulness. It’s not about your strength, your ability to remain in covenant with me. It’s about my strength, my ability, my love, my resolve to save you. I pledge to fight for you, to stay in relationship with you, to walk with you no matter what, from now until eternity.’”

 I have spent much of my life studying comparative religion and systems of spirituality. Exploring the various ways in which humankind has sought to find meaning, purpose, and ultimate understanding is, at least to me, one of the most fascinating undertakings a person can pursue. I say this to make a point that I firmly and passionately feel needs to be made. It is precisely this aspect of the Christian message that sets it apart from all the rest. This faith is not about working our way to God, but instead, about God emptying himself to pursue us in an act of sacrificial love. It is not about our spiritual achievements, no matter how splendid they might be. It is about God gathering us into a divine embrace and restoring us to our intended status.

 David Foster, founding pastor of Bellevue Community Church in Nashville, eloquently and cogently describes God’s consistent pursuit of us, no matter what the circumstance might be.

 “Jesus came to love you and give you life. He did not die to make your religious, but to give you a new heart. Because nothing changes until our hear changes, and the heart never changes by itself, we need help. Jesus’ death and resurrection is God’s promise fulfilled. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ezek. 36:26). And this new freed-up, joy-filled heart of flesh doesn’t tame, shame, limit, or lump easily. Instead, it sets the R4G in us free to be an agent of change with a message of hope for a world in pain….Our corporate mission is the fueling and funding of a global revolution aimed at the radical reclamation of the human heart. We are driven by a relentless, passionate pursuit of the divine scandal – namely – every life matters to God.”

 The fact that God loves me enough to pursue me through the days of my life and down the many dark alleys I have chosen to stumble just absolutely boggles my mind. My only response, once I fully accept this reality, is utter amazement and radical wonder. And then, I am awash in sincere gratitude. In the above quotation, Foster is speaking of the same principle enunciated by the Master when he talked about the good shepherd leaving the 99 to go in search of the one that is lost. It is the same motivating ethic that caused the wealthy landowner to go out on the road every day and gaze longingly into the dry distance, hoping at last to catch a glimpse of his wandering prodigal.

 Christianity, as revealed by scripture in general and in the person of Christ in particular, is not “religion,” although many have turned it into that. Christianity, as revealed in the act of God on that dark night with Abram and on that dark afternoon on Calvary, is “relationship.” In essence, Christianity is “Covenant.”

 To be continued….

(c) L.D. Turner 2009/ All Rights Reserved

Jesus is like air to the lungs and water to a desert dweller. He is not a religious artifact. He’s not dead. He is alive. He is engaged and engaging. He is here now, changing lives all over this world this very moment. When He walked on earth He changed everything for everyday, for all time. What started then continues today. It can’t be stopped though many have tried. Jesus is the rock of redemption and His church will prevail. He is here in this moment with you, doing what He always does, calling you to a higher place, calling you to break free from convention and stop going to church and start being the church everywhere you go. Let’s be “Jesus people” again. Let’s be men and women whose hearts are captured, redeemed, renewed, enlivened, ignited, set fee! Let’s return to the revolution to be the change we want to see in the world!

David Foster

(from A Renegade’s Guide to God)

L. Dwight “Mick” Turner

* A number of readers have asked that I post this essay, which was originally posted over a year ago, in its updated form. So, here it is – an bit of writing that brings back many fond memories of my grandfather.

This morning when I woke up and shook the fog out of my head, I became aware that I was thinking back on an experience I had undergone many years ago. Perhaps I had dreamed about it or it could be that the Sacred Spirit was bringing it to my attention for some reason. As I go through my day I need to be aware of this, in case the Spirit is indeed trying to communicate something to me. I have found that, at least in my case, God often gets messages past my thick mind by speaking to me in this indirect but unmistakable manner.

 Sometimes I wish I could hear from God a little more easily. I find myself from time to time wishing that I could just walk out in my back yard first thing in the morning and find God waiting there to talk to me out of a burning bush. I would even settle for a braying donkey.  It doesn’t matter so much how he did it, just that it was a little less troublesome and inconsistent.

 My old friend Jesse often tells me that God speaks to all of us all of the time, but we rarely have ears to hear. He claims that many people’s dependence upon thing like Bible reading, sermon-listening, and book study have blinded us, or perhaps I should say deafened us, to the crystal clear voice of God. For Jesse, God speaks through three primary media, nature, the inner light and other seekers. It could very well be that Jesse is right when he says we have become so dependent upon the ways we have been instructed to hear God’s voice that we can’t discern his speaking when it comes in other ways.

 Jesse reminds me of my grandfather when he talks like this. I have mentioned my grandfather before on this blog. A southern, rural man to the core, my grandfather was devoutly attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As a child I often marveled at his knowledge, wisdom, and uncanny ability to see things that others couldn’t see. A Quaker and a mystic by birth, from the time he was a teenager my grandfather was a consternation to his parents because of his stubborn resistance to going to First Day Meeting as the Society of Friends called it. “Church” is basically what it was to others. This resistance did not go away once my grandfather reached his adult years and now, rather than to my great-grandparents, his absence became a consternation to his wife, my grandmother.

 The reason I mention all of this is that it was often through my grandfather that I learned that God did indeed speak through venues other than the church, the preacher, the Bible, and, in his day, radio-evangelists. I carry to this day one distinct memory of my grandfather’s approach to religion that was for me an epiphany of sorts. I was 12-years-old and our family was visiting my grandparents during the Easter season. Little did I know at the time that this would be a Palm Sunday I would never forget.

 As usual, my grandfather had resisted the family’s repeated entreaties that he join them for the Sunday morning meeting at the “Meeting House.” Even more to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to stay home with him and “help him take care of a few things.” You can’t imagine my delight at this turn of events. I responded that I would love to stay home and help him and that pretty much settled the matter.

 After putting out some extra feed for his two mules, my grandfather took me for a walk in the woods adjacent to his farm. Eventually we came to a clearing, a meadow actually, that was dotted with patches of wild flowers. From our vantage point, the meadow seemed to extend forever and the patches of flowers were like explosions of color in a sea of green. As was often the case, we walked and talked about all kinds of things. I had something I wanted to ask him about and finally got around to it, although I was somewhat apprehensive about asking him.

 “PaPa,” I began. “Why is it you never go to church with the family? I have only seen you go a couple of times. Do you hate church?”

 “No, son….I don’t hate church. In fact, I like it,” he replied, chuckling under his breath. “I just like to spend my Sabbath day being with God.”

 I recall being mystified by his answer and, after scratching my head for a minute or two, go around to asking the logical question a 12-year-old boy might ask.

 “But church is where God is,” I said. “If you want to be with God, why don’t you go to church? It doesn’t make sense, PaPa.”

 “God isn’t in church much these days, son. At least I haven’t seen him there in awhile,” responded PaPa. “At church preachers preach (they were Evangelical Quakers), singers sing, prayers pray, and gossipers gossip. That doesn’t leave much time for God to say anything.”

 I remember he paused for quite awhile to let his words sink into my still young mind.

 “I figure if I need to be with God, to talk to him and listen to him, I need to come out here where it is quiet,” he continued. “God didn’t build that church, but he sure as hell made these woods and this meadow. I figure if I want to talk to God I need to go where he lives.”

 “I think I understand, PaPa,” I recall saying. “But isn’t religion important? My Mom says my religion is the most important part of life and that when I grow up, I can’t live without it.”

 After a long silence, my grandfather looked me squarely in the eyes and told me in no uncertain terms what he thought about my question.

 “Just keep in mind a few things and it will make your spiritual life easier and less troublesome,” he said. “First, understand that religion doesn’t have anything to do with God, and vice versa.” My grandfather had to explain what vice versa meant. I was only 12.

 “Religion is an invention, just like the wheel and the telephone,” PaPa continued. “Spirituality is sometimes a part of religion but most of the time it isn’t. Unlike religion, spirituality is not an invention. It is something as much a part of being human as breathing, sleeping, and sex. All of those things are built into us from the start. So is spirituality. Our job is so make our lives spiritual every day. Religion is supposed to help with that, but most of the time it prevents spirituality, it doesn’t create it.”

 I guess my grandfather was one of the early people to be dealing with the religion vs. spirituality conflict. These days the familiar adage about being spiritual but not religious is so commonplace it has lost much of its real impact. I should not be surprised, however, at my grandfather’s words. As I mentioned, he was a Quaker and a mystic throughout his life. In fact, he knew the Quaker mystic Rufus Jones quite well and often told stories about Jones. I never had the opportunity to meet Rufus Jones, although I would have loved to. Jones died in 1948 I think, which was a year before my birth.

 As for me, I was thoroughly confused by this time. I struggled to understand what my PaPa had said, especially the business about spirituality and religion. I asked grandfather if he could tell me again about the difference between the two. Here is where the epiphany came in and also where Rufus Jones fits into this story.

 “Come over here,” said PaPa as he got up and walked toward one of the flower explosions in the meadow. “Now, pay close attention and I think you will get the picture.”

 Grandfather kneeled down and picked an absolutely beautiful bright purple flower. As I knelt beside him, he said, “I want to teach you something Rufus Jones taught me many years ago. This is probably the most beautiful flower in this whole meadow. Imagine this is the church. Sometimes churches can be really beautiful places, inside and out. And the folks inside can be beautiful, too.”

 I listened carefully and appreciated the flower, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

 “Now, hold the flower to your nose and take a good whiff. Smell it deeply.”

 Taking a deep breath I held the flower to my nose and smelled of it. Oddly, there was no fragrance, either good or bad.

 “There is no smell, PaPa,” I reported.

 “Isn’t it strange that a flower so attractive can have no fragrance?” said PaPa. “Churches can be like that as well. Our family goes to a church a lot like that.”

 He then picked another flower, not unattractive by any means, but far less striking than the first. He held it to my nose.

 “It is wonderful, PaPa,” I said after drinking deeply of the fragrance of this rather ordinary looking flower. “What is it, PaPa?”

 “Spirituality,” he said in a serene voice filled with certainty.

 © L.D. Turner 2008/All Rights Reserved

Mick Turner

As the new century begins to unfold, we often hear many so-called and often self-proclaimed “experts” on culture and religion predicting the extinction of Christianity. If one listens closely to these pundits, it would seem the faith is already in its death throes, gasping vainly for its final breath. Are these doomsday prophets correct? Is the ancient and once-vibrant church universal on the cusp of being relegated to the dust bin of sociological irrelevance?

 The answer is clear: Yes and no.

 If one is speaking of the Church in its traditional form and structure, securely anchored to its dated and increasingly ineffective methodology of encountering the world, then the answer is a resounding yes. The Church of yesterday is rapidly becoming just that – the Church of yesterday. Stubbornly clinging to a Jurassic vision of its mission, function, and structure, the traditional church is incapable of successfully navigating the shifting shoals of the post-modern world. To make matters worse, people outside the Church have an increasingly negative view of Christianity in general and Christians in particular.

 There can be little doubt that we are living not only in the post-modern age, but the post-Christian age as well. Some of our more cocooned brothers and sisters may be in denial of this fact, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is true. And now hear this, things are not going to go back to the good old days. As the old saying goes, once it’s a pickle, it ain’t gonna be a cucumber ever again. Don’t just take my word for it, take heed of these statistics, culled from the research of several prominent church historians and sociologists, as well as renowned researcher George Barna.

 Historians postulate it took from the beginning of the church to the year 1900 for followers of Jesus to make up 2.5 percent of the world population. In the seventy years beyond that, it more than doubled. By 1970, the number of committed believers in the world expanded to over 6 percent. From 1970 to 1992 the number doubled again. So right now, in the world it is something like 12 or 13 percent. These are flowers of Jesus Christ, people who say, “I am born again.” Here’s what’s really interesting. Seventy percent of this growth happened in the last fifteen years. All of that sounds pretty good, Turner, so why are you waving all these red flags in our faces? Well, here’s why:

  Seventy percent of that growth is happening outside the United States.

 The trends on our shores are just the opposite. In America today, over 85 percent of the churches are stagnant or dying. And while the appearance is there is an abundance of churches, the truth is most are nearly empty buildings with an average attendance of fewer than seventy-five. Every week more churches close their doors. Even in Nashville, the buckle of the Bible Belt and home to numerous large para-church ministries, churches are being turned into storage buildings, office complexes, and strip joints. Some downtown churches are more famous for the architecture than for the person and purpose they were built to glorify.

“America is fast becoming the land of empty church buildings and hollow religion,” said David Foster, founding pastor of one of Nashville’s largest congregations. “Out of   450,000 Protestant churches, we lost fifty thousand churches in the ‘90’s. I heard a denominational leader say recently roughly 5,000 ministers are leaving the ministry every month. These are obscene and sobering numbers.”

 Not such a pretty picture, is it? I live in the heart of the Bible Belt, where people still go to church in large numbers and Christianity remains a strong force in the cultural mix. We have no real shortage of churches and, except for several crisis-driven denominations, few churches are actually closing their doors. Still, the trend of declining numbers is more apparent in the larger cities in the Bible Belt, like Nashville, Memphis, and Atlanta. In other parts of the country, entire denominations seem to have on foot in the morgue and the other on a banana peel.

  Denominational leaders and church leaders tend to react in one of four basic ways: outright denial; panic-fueled tail chasing, like a dog running in circles; blaming everyone but themselves; or trying to find new, creative ways to fix the mess. Only Number Four has the proverbial snowball’s chance.

 A significant section of the Body of Christ has arisen, showing not only signs of life, but also a freshness of vision, a flexibility of methodology, and a contagious optimism. Often referred to as the “Emerging Church”, this proactive, mission-driven force in the Church is proving that the demise of the Christian faith is, to echo Mark Twain, greatly exaggerated.

 In my mind’s eye, I often see Christ standing before the fetid tomb of Mary and Martha’s brother. With a calm, reassuring voice, Jesus spoke:

 Lazarus, come forth!

 Some of those assembled there initially expressed concern:

 But Lord, he has been dead four days. He stinketh.

 In spite of the odor, Jesus called his friend back to life and Lazarus responded. Still wrapped in his burial cloths, the once-dead man now walked with new life. As the vision progresses, it is no longer Lazarus who I see resurrected at the Lord’s call, but the contemporary Church. Particularly, I see the revitalization and renewal of the old Mainline denominations, so rich in tradition and resources. These denominations have experienced the greatest loss in terms of numbers and influence, yet it is these very segments of the Church that have the most to offer.

 As the Body of Christ finds its way in our post-modern, post-Christian culture, I believe we will see major changes in the way the Church goes about its business. In addition to shifts in organizational structure and a reduced role of the ordained clergy, the churches that survive will be the ones that are innovative, transformative, and incarnational.

 If the Church is to reach the growing post-Christian culture in ways that are relevant and effective, several things must be seen with clarity and focus. First, the primary question that must be answered is not, “How can we evangelize these people?” Instead, the relevant question must be, “How can I help you?” It is through this sort of proactive Christian service that the Church’s evangelistic witness can be best fostered. Secondly, the Church must reconsider how it can best present the truths of the faith in new wineskins that are more appropriate than the 19^th Century model that is commonly used even today. We must re-introduce people to God, to Christ, to the Scriptures, and to the Church and this must be done in ways that are both practical and palatable, given the parameters of the environment in which the Church is now operating.

 One salient and ubiquitous feature of 21^st Century America centers on the increased interest in all things spiritual. Increasingly, people are seeking spiritual experience, not just dogma, doctrine, and didactics. Many Americans find themselves encountering the reality that something important is missing from their lives and they are quite active in their search for an answer. It is here that the Church has consistently fallen short of the mark.

 Protestant Christianity in particular has long been suspicious, even paranoid, regarding spiritual disciplines and spiritual experience. As a result, the Church as we know it has been narrowly focused on belief and doctrine, ignoring the experiential, subjective side of an individual’s walk of faith. Discipleship programs have traditionally been focused on regimented Bible study and the central aspect of the overwhelming majority of Protestant worship services is the pastor’s sermon. Is it any wonder that many churches see dwindling numbers? The spiritual seeker of today finds the typical church service and discipleship program as unsatisfying and irrelevant. As a result, they turn elsewhere. Spiritual paths such as Buddhism, Yoga, Wicca, and many self-help programs are flourishing, primarily because they are more likely to address the needs of today’s spiritual seeker.

 Connected with this lack of deep discipleship on the part of the Church is a general lack of transformative experience among the faithful. According to the majority of sociological and spiritual research done by Gallup, as well as George Barna, the typical believer is not significantly different than the non-believer in terms of worldview. Our pews are filled with sincere people who are, in the words of Thoreau, living lives of quiet desperation. This unfortunate reality accounts for the fact that a tour of any Christian book store will reveal a plethora of books with dust jackets that claim the book will, “change your life.”

 Why do so many Christian experience such a desperate quality of life and seek something life-changing? Precisely because the Church has not provided a consistent means for spiritual growth and fulfillment. Let’s get real about this. A few praise songs, a couple of corporate prayers, a didactic Sunday School lesson, and a sermon just doesn’t cut it. If the Church is to thrive in the context of the current culture, it must be transformative. Few people speak as clearly and consistently on this issue as Dallas Willard:

 “The overshadowing event of the past two centuries of Christian life has been the struggle between orthodoxy and modernism. In this struggle the primary issue has, as a matter of fact, not been discipleship to Christ and a transformation of soul that expresses itself in pervasive, routine obedience to his ‘all that I have commanded you.’ Instead, both sides of the controversy have focused almost entirely upon what is to be explicitly asserted or rejected as essential Christian doctrine. In the process of battles over views of Christ the Savior, Christ the teacher was lost on all sides…..Discipleship as an essential issue disappeared from the churches, and with it there also disappeared realistic plans and programs for the transformation of the inmost self into Christ-likeness. One could now be a Christian forever without actually changing in heart and life. Right profession, positive or negative, was all that was required. This has now produced generations of professing Christians who, as a whole, do not differ in character, but only in ritual, from their non-professing neighbors….”

  Finally, the Body of Christ must develop innovative methods of giving flesh to its primary mission: incarnating Christ. The new Church must be mission-driven and willing to get its hands dirty. I believe the 21^st Century churches that thrive will increasingly be those that arise out of the culture where a need exists. These types of congregations will be largely unconventional in terms of make up and methodology. Numerous examples already exist and can serve as models upon which new, innovative churches can be built. Congregations like “Mosaic” in Los Angeles, “Solomon’s Porch” in Minneapolis, and “The Rock” in Huntsville, Alabama are but three among many examples to build upon. These churches are thriving because they encounter the surrounding culture and grow within the context of that culture.

 If the Body of Christ can incorporate progressive innovation, transformation, and incarnation into its calling and its mission, the consistent answer to the naysayers who are blowing Taps on Christianity will be a resounding, “No!”

 The Church faces major challenges as it learns to live within a cultural context in which it finds itself increasingly marginalized. We can either put our heads in the sand and pretend the storm isn’t on the horizon, or, we can come up with creative new wineskins to fulfill our commission being salt and light in our world. Realistically, we can assume some churches will do well, while others will become flavorless seasoning and blown out light bulbs. Some will become, in the words of Paul, a pleasant aroma to the nostrils; while others, unfortunately, will stinketh.

  How individual churches choose to respond to the realities of the situation will determine whether they will die, survive, or thrive.

 © L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

“The overshadowing event of the past two centuries of Christian life has been the struggle between orthodoxy and modernism. In this struggle the primary issue has, as a matter of fact, not been discipleship to Christ and a transformation of soul that expresses itself in pervasive, routine obedience to his ‘all that I have commanded you.’ Instead, both sides of the controversy have focused almost entirely upon what is to be explicitly asserted or rejected as essential Christian doctrine. In the process of battles over views of Christ the Savior, Christ the teacher was lost on all sides…..Discipleship as an essential issue disappeared from the churches, and with it there also disappeared realistic plans and programs for the transformation of the inmost self into Christ-likeness. One could now be a Christian forever without actually changing in heart and life. Right profession, positive or negative, was all that was required. This has now produced generations of professing Christians who, as a whole, do not differ in character, but only in ritual, from their non-professing neighbors….”

“There is a basic difference in strategy for God’s people of the Old Testament and His people of the New. Rather than the come and see of the Old, it is now, go to and live among. It is as critical now as it was in Old Testament times that we live holy lives. Ungodly living will destroy us and our credibility just as surely now as it did then. But we are to live our lives among the lost rather than separated from them. God’s people today are a people sent; we are to go and live among. So, a basic difference between the calling of God’s people in the Old and New Testaments is that the arrows have been turned around. Where it was once come and see it is now go to and proclaim.”

Jim Petersen

(from Lifestyle Discipleship: The Challenge of Following Jesus in Today’s World.)

Mick Turner

I discovered this wonderful list, describing some of the major aspects of our new identity in Christ, in the book, The Fine Line: Re-envisioning the Gap Between Christ and Culture, by Kary Oberbrunner. It is in alphabetical order:

 Accepted in the beloved

Bought with a price

Crucified with Christ

Dwelt by the Holy Spirit

Enslaved to God

Freed from slavery to sin

God’s child

Heir of God’s riches

In him completeness

Jesus’ chosen inheritance

Kingly priest

Light of the world

Mastered no longer by sin

New creation

One spirit with the lord

Perfect in Christ

Quieted in who God is

Raised up with Him

Seated in heavenly places

Transformed into Christ’s image

United to the lord

Victorious through my Lord

Wonderfully made

Xpistos (Christ’s) workmanship

Yoked with righteousness

Zealous for good works

 Allow me to make a suggestion. During the final two months of this year, spend some quiet time each day praying for insight into each of these blessings of God’s grace and how they manifest in you and your new life “in Christ.” Perhaps carry a positive affirmation with you throughout the day, specifically related to one or two of these gifts. For example, during the day you might often repeat, “I am Christ’s workmanship, zealous for good works.”

 I have done similar exercises before and the results have been very positive.

 Blessings and may the peace of the coming Advent season be upon you:

 Your friend,

 LDT 

As the fruit to the tree and the water to the spring, so is action to thought. It does not come into manifestation suddenly and without a cause. It is the result of a long and silent growth; the end of a hidden process which has long been gathering force. The fruit of the tree and the water gushing from the rock are both the effect of a combination of natural processes in air and earth which have long worked together in secret to produce the phenomenon; and the beautiful acts of enlightenment and the dark deeds of sin are both the ripened effects of trains of thought which have long been harbored in the mind…..Guard well your thoughts, reader, for what you really are in your secret thoughts today, be it good or evil, you will, sooner or later, become in actual deed.

James Allen

(from Byways of Blessedness)

Mick Turner

Many essayists believe that if you are going to say something that is likely to create controversy, cause the reader to foam at the mouth, or throw your precious writing up against the nearest wall while, at the same time, calling you everything from an apostate to the brother of Beelzebub, it is best to slowly work up to it. The theory here is that as a writer you need to prepare the reader for your controversial statements in a gradual and sensitive manner, thus increasing the likelihood he or she will remain with you and thereby hear what you have to say with more openness and receptivity, before deciding that you are either a raving lunatic or worse, a dangerous contemplative barely worth the bullet required to dispatch you to the bowels of Hell.

 Balderdash!

 I have found that it is often preferable to get right to the point. That way, if the reader discovers your blasphemy right out of the gate, they have the opportunity to make a decision to read on or not read on. Either way, as a writer you have been respectful of the reader’s time. With that being said, let me get right down to it.

I am not totally opposed to the Word of Faith teachings and believe at least some of what these folks have to say has validity.

I have found that few topics can arouse as much heated debate these days as the Word of Faith movement. It seems folks either support the “name it and claim it” heroes hook line and sinker or, at the other extreme, label them apostate apprentices of Old Scratch himself. As I have stated before on several occasions, I am not a supporter of the Word of Faith movement, but I do agree with some of their more rational teachings. I firmly believe it is best to evaluate the movement on its relative merits and demerits, but never throw out the baby with the bathwater.

 One of the consistent criticisms thrown at the Word of Faith people has to do with this whole concept, espoused especially by Kenneth Copeland, Creflo Dollar and others, that we are “little gods.” I guess what sets people off is the notion that we, limited and damaged as we are, somehow equate ourselves with a Holy God.

 Blasphemy!

 They surely yelled this at Jesus and they yell it even more loudly at Copeland. Personally, I am not a Kenneth Copeland fan.  I find the man offensive on so many fronts I don’t even want to get started about it. However, the “little god” notion is not one of them.

 Simply put, if we are created in God’s image and if we in some way share the creative potential and power of God, then we are, at least in this pristine aspect of our being, little gods. This is no way equates us with God nor does it imply that we have in any way, shape, form or fashion the purity, power, or position of the Creator. It is just another way of saying two things, which scripture echoes time and time again:

 We are created in God’s image

We share in and are expected to use God’s creative power.

 In my mind, the whole little god controversy is, at best, a tempest in a teapot. Instead of spinning our wheels barking up an empty tree, we can better utilize our time and energy asking ourselves the following questions:

 Based on the above ideas, the question before each of us, once we come to understand just who and what we are in Christ, is: What type of Christ-follower will I become?

• Will I succumb to the brimstone inspired doctrine of being a miserable little sinful worm that grovels before God begging for forgiveness for being such a miserable invertebrate, belly-crawling failure?
• Or will I choose the better option and assume the status and the authority of a “joint heir” with Christ? Will I, indeed, with God’s blessing take up the power and the privilege won for me by Christ’s mission on earth in general and his victory on the cross and through the Resurrection?
• If I select this path, it means I have a responsibility to go forth as more than a conqueror and use those God-given abilities that are my birthright as a member of the family of the Father of Lights. Above all, I am not to use these blessings for my own purposes, but instead, use them for the express purpose of continuing Christ’s mission of establishing his kingdom here on earth. Prosperity is great if it is God’s will, but my friend, it is only a side effect and certainly not a concern. Poverty is equally welcome in my book. The kingdom is the issue and service to others is the tool to be used.

 The greatest miracle in life occurs when a person finally discovers their true identity as an individualized expression of the great “I Am.” The true miracle is not so much parting the waters of the Red Sea, healing a leper, or feeding 5,000 with a fish and a few loaves of bread. No my friend, the real miracles in life begin when a child of God begins to walk in the power of the Holy Spirit, understanding and accepting the full ramifications of what Christ accomplished before he ascended back into the spirit world and the legacy he left behind – a legacy of empowerment and glory that enables all who call him Master to live lives of service and glory far beyond anything they imagined possible.

 The truth of the matter is that God desires that you walk in your dignity and divinity. There is a part of you that is divine and please, don’t let any theological naysayer tell you otherwise. For centuries there have been people in the church, influential people who are, for the most part, well-meaning. The problem is, they are misinformed and have fallen victim to the largest lie ever perpetrated by the Father of Lies. Scripture tells us repeatedly that we were created as beings that, at our most fundamental level, are divine and created for the most intimate level of relationship with God.

 With the “Fall,” our relationship with God was skewed, tarnished, and forever changed. There is no way around that fact. However, there is also no way around the fact of what Christ accomplished in his mission to the planet and what he and the Holy Spirit continue to accomplish to this very day. Our relationship with the Creator has been healed.

 Two words that should be foremost in the vocabulary of every Christian are restoration and regeneration. Through the mysteries of Christ’s atoning work on the cross, our position and our relationship with God has been restored. We are now in a position to walk in dignity and divinity alongside the Father because Christ has made that possible through his successful mission. Second, through the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit, we are being regenerated, made whole again – formed into the very image of Christ. Are we there yet? I know I am not and doubt that you are, either. Still, we are well on our way in partnership with a full one-third of the Godhead that now resides within us. It is this, the person of the Holy Spirit, that will make us whole again.

 So, friend, when you claim your divinity you are not claiming to be God nor are you in anyway claiming to be equal with God. Instead, you are just appropriating the new identity that Christ won for you in his cosmic victory.

 © L.D. Turner 2009/ All Rights Reserved

Mick Turner

  Although many things in the modern world conspire to deafen us to the subtle voice of the Father, rest assured that his voice is indeed there. God calls to us continually, asking us to put down our nets and, like the fishermen disciples of old, come and follow. Jesus tells us in John 6:44 that no one comes to him unless the Father first draws him. What this means in highly practical terms is that we not only have a God, we have a proactive God that seeks relationship with us. Our end of the bargain is to put ourselves into a position of deepening receptivity, so that we might hear his voice more clearly and experience his love more intensely.

 There are others who hear God’s voice and respond, accepting his offer of grace, forgiveness, and acceptance into his blessed family. These are generally sincere disciples and are often quite active in their local church fellowship. They also involve themselves in service work and serve the Master to the best of their ability. Yet it is these very people – these sincere followers of the Lord – who, in their heart of hearts, often find themselves asking, “Isn’t there something more to the Christian life? I feel like something is missing. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is a vague emptiness…”

 It is to these genuine disciples that the still, small voice comes beckoning in the silence of a sleepless night, or drifting in on the golden leaves of an autumn wind. That irresistible, persistent voice that repeatedly whispers:

 Come, follow me….

 When we find ourselves in such a situation, we need to recognize that we are both blessed and vulnerable. We are blessed in that the divine source, the creative power that put this awe-inspiring universe together, seeks relationship with us. The incomprehensible intelligence that maintains all that we see and even more remarkably, the mysterious quantum realm that we don’t see, together in harmonious balance desires intimacy with us – intimacy beyond anything we have ever known.

 Yes, friend, God calls to us in a gentle voice that only the mystic can truly hear. And in that persistent calling, the Creator invites us to join in the mysterious dance of spiritual transformation. Most amazingly, he is not calling us to go into a monastic hideaway or a hermit’s cave, but to stay put right where we are. And if we stay and we become open and discerning, he will use the mundane events of our daily round as his methodology of instruction. More often than not, God’s classroom is characterized by the pedagogy of the ordinary and it is precisely in the realm of the unremarkable that true divine alchemy occurs. Sue Monk Kidd, a woman who knows this process through personal experience, describes it this way:

 It seems to me that Christ continually calls us through the daily events of our lives…In moments like these God stirs the waters of our lives and beckons us beyond where we are to a new dimension of closeness with Him…God desires to transform certain experiences of ours into awakening events. These may be our most common moments, but if we let them they can become doorways to a deeper encounter with Him. Who knows at what moment we may begin to wake up to the astonishing fact that Emmanuel (God with us) is still God’s name, that every moment the Word of God, Jesus Christ, is coming to us.

 I know that in my experience, God calls me in ways I never expected. I have discerned his voice in the sacred silence of meditative stillness and his message has often slapped me to my senses as it spoke from the pages of Holy Scripture. I have also learned to be increasingly sensitive to his call as manifest in the choreographic harmony of the natural world and especially when it dances in the eyes of a child.

 If you want to validate the existence of this divine presence, forget your test tubes, your state-of-the-art laboratories, and your most advanced computer programs. Instead, go find a child and spend the day with them. Any kid can teach you more about the inner workings of this energy, what the Chinese call the ‘Dao, than an entire university physics faculty.

Children are one of the most spectacular yet subtly sublime gifts God can bestow upon us. God surprised and blessed my wife and I with the birth of Salina in May, 2004. For me, it was particularly surprising as I was 55 at the time. Now I am 60 and Salina celebrated her fifth birthday a few months back. In this past half-decade, I have been given a new perspective on why Jesus told us to be as little children if we wanted to see the kingdom.

Salina has always amazed me with her curiosity, her sense of discovery, and especially her spontaneous wonder and awe as she encounters things new and exciting. Further, she never tires of things that strike her fancy, especially if I do something that she likes but has never really seen before. I am reminded, for example, when I first showed her how to blow bubbles with bubble gum. For me, it was old hat – but for her, this simple act was like seeing a rainbow for the first time or discovering the wonders of ice cream. Whenever I produced a large, pink bubble as if by magic, she would pop it with her hand, laugh in that way that only children can laugh, and say, “Do it again, Daddy; do it again.”

This amazing ability to turn something new into an almost sacred event is, I think, part of that unsullied and untainted aspect of the image of God that we are blessed with in our creation. Moreover, children never seem to tire of monotony, at least until they get a bit older. At those miracle ages of two through five or so, kids just seem to revel in both newness and repetition. I am reminded of the famous words of G.K. Chesterton:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity to make all daisies appear alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never grown tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite for infancy: for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”

Sometimes when I sit quietly and open myself to what Chesterton says in these few words and what the Holy Spirit speaks to me when I reflect on them, I am literally stunned into silence; and then I shiver.

Children have not forgotten how to experience our world with a sense of wonder and awe. Noted Jewish philosopher Abraham Heschel, one of my very favorite authors, calls this capacity for reverence in life “radical amazement” and affirms that the spiritual journey cannot be completed until we reattain this inborn spiritual quality. Heschel makes this statement, “The beginning of awe is wonder and the beginning of wisdom is awe.” When I first discovered these words, I pondered on the meaning for weeks and eventually discovered by doing so I totally lost their true import. I have come to see that Heschel is alluding to the fact that true wisdom begins with the experience of awe, and this basic sense of “radical amazement” has its birth in a childlike wonder at the incredible thing we flippantly call “life” ; the unfathomable creation that surrounds us every moment. I will let Heschel say the rest:

The secret of every being is the divine care and concern that are invested in it. Something sacred is at stake in every event…..The meaning of awe is to realize that life takes place under wide horizons, horizons that range beyond the span of an individual life or even the life of a nation, a generation, or an era. Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.

Deep in my personal spirit, when it is connected with and animated by the Holy Spirit, I know with certainty that my daughter Salina innately understands this. She cannot articulate it with the eloquence of Heschel but she expresses this sense of radical amazement nonetheless. Every time she giggles when Daddy blows a bubble; every time she sits on the deck and watches birds feeding in the back yard and cows feeding in the field beyond; every time her eyes dance with wonder when she sees a sunset and screams, “Look Daddy, God is smiling,” – I know she gets it just as much as Heschel ever did and just as much as I long to once again.

I am always amazed at how she sees the world in all its glory, the way God intended it to be seen, and responds without any sense of guile or bewilderment. Just yesterday we stopped the car along a rural lane near our home to watch a group of wild geese circle a field, then land in a large pond. My daughter’s eyes grew wide as she saw these birds gracefully glide almost silently on to the surface of the water. She sat there spellbound as she quietly took in this aspect of God’s remarkable world.

 My grandfather was in many ways my first spiritual director. Working as a game warden, a career that my father also pursued, he spent most of his time in natural settings and he had this uncanny ability to see the intricate and interconnected patterns that were everywhere to be witnessed if a person only had “eyes to see.” My grandfather often said that it was important to see each new day with what he called “fresh eyes.” A deeply spiritual man, he rarely attended the Baptist Church where my grandmother was an active member. Instead, he often went off into the woods of north Alabama with one of us grandkids in tow, giving us his own version of Sunday School.

 I don’t say this to discount the importance of church-going, only to say that, for my grandfather, it was not a high priority. Coming from a family with a long tradition of Quakerism, my grandfather treasured silence and solitude and often told me that my “inner light” could best be seen on a calm lake or pristine mountaintop. According to my grandfather, the best way to rediscover my “fresh eyes” was to go into nature and go into “the sacred silence,” then just notice what was going on around me. Yesterday, as I watched Salina as she “noticed” the geese as they went about their business, I understood deeply that she had “fresh eyes” and that most children possessed this significant talent, at least until they were educated out of it.

 I also understood why my grandfather never said I needed to develop fresh eyes; he always said I needed to rediscover them. The childlike perspective of awe and wonder that we all possessed when we were young is still there. Our task, with the divine assistance of the Holy Spirit, is to go through the cognitive clutter we have all accumulated and find it once again.

 On the way home I also recalled a passage from a remarkable little book, written by Jeanne Gowen Dennis. The book is entitled, Running Barefoot on Holy Ground and subtitled, Childlike Intimacy With God. A fine and educative book, “Running Barefoot” discusses the notion of having fresh eyes. Let’s listen to the author:

 “Why do children notice so many things that adults miss? Maybe being closer to the ground gives them an advantage. Perhaps it’s because they’re discovering the wonders of the world around them for the first, second, or twentieth time, and somehow the novelty has not yet worn off. Unlike most adults, little children also pay attention to details. We are so distracted by our responsibilities that we often miss what is right before us. Perhaps we should take regular walks with toddlers and let them lead us along. Still, we’ll only learn to see through their eyes if we use the time to exercise our sight, not just our bodies.”

 Having Salina around has been a blessing in many wonderful ways, but one of the most beneficial spiritual lessons she has brought my way is helping me rediscover my fresh eyes – helping me learn to see again. She has in some magnificent manner taught me the spiritual discipline of “noticing.” For example, there was the time she looked into a clear night sky at a quarter-moon and said, “Look, it’s just like my fingernail,” or the occasion when she sat in wondrous rapture watching three butterflies flitting about on our back deck. As the two of us “noticed” the choreography of their airborne dance, I became aware that I was, for a few brief moments, actually seeing what was going on. It was, in a word, exhilarating.

 All of this comes natural to children, but we adults must now somehow train ourselves to be open to the marvels God parades before us on a daily basis. It not only involves “slowing down to smell the roses,” no – it goes much deeper than that.  In my experience, I have had to learn to live in my body again; allowing myself enough time to become reacquainted with my five basis senses and perhaps discover a few I didn’t know, or more likely forgot, that I even had. In order to see like a child, I needed to rediscover how to experience life in the pristine clarity of the moment – unsullied by morbid memories or future fears.

 I not only needed to learn how to see – I needed to learn how to be.

 A good way to begin this process of rediscovery is by learning to pay attention to what is coming in through your senses. Pick on of your senses, say hearing, and go outside and just spend five minutes paying attention to what you hear – the birds chirping in the trees, a distant plane overhead, a passing truck on the Interstate two miles away. Don’t strain to do this; simply allow the sounds to come in and just notice them. Just allow them to be what they are and just allow yourself to just be. I have found it useful to spend about three days on each one of my senses and to keep a journal of my experiences. I record what I noticed and also what prevented me from being present to my surroundings. For me, as well as others I have taught to use this exercise, let the sense of vision be the last one you focus on. I can’t explain why this seems to be the best way to do this, all I can say is, for the majority of people, it works best that way.

 In conclusion, let me suggest one other thing that might seem a bit silly to you. You may, in fact, think this is childish. Yet, when you think about it, that’s the whole point, isn’t it. Try doing things the way a young child does them. Experiment with your body and your posture. What do I mean? I’ll close with this quotation, again from Dennis’ book:

 “To see as children see, all our senses must be alert. New worlds open up when children exercise their power of sight. They see with fresh eyes – fully, simply, and in intricate detail. Young children experience each new discovery to the fullest, first with their mouths, then with their hands and fingers, and finally with their whole beings. They “see” with all their senses and in every possible position: on their knees, on their stomachs, on their backs, upside down, backward, and sideways. They explore the world with eyes wide open, closed, or squinted; through drinking glasses or cellophane; from inside cabinets, under coffee tables, and even in mirrors.”

 If you apply these ideas you may, like my daughter Salina and the great poet William Blake, discover (rediscover) that you “hold infinity in the palm of your hand.”

 © L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved