:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

As we move toward a more functional vocabulary of the Holy Spirit, the first concept I’d like to tackle is that of being “filled” with the Holy Spirit. It is a rather broad concept that is assumed throughout the New Testament when speaking of more specific manifestations and works of the Holy Spirit in the lives of believers.

There’s almost too much material to cover in this topic, but the filling of the Holy Spirit is a particularly important topic that comes up throughout the New Testament. Without the filling of the Holy Spirit the book of Acts would be a rather short read.

While I’d like to spend some time on all of the various ways we can speak of the Holy Spirit in our Christian lives, I’d like to begin with this very general idea of the Spirit’s filling our lives or the state of being Spirit-filled. What does it look like? How should we speak of it?

Christians as Naturally Spirit-Filled

Acts 8:16-18 tells of an unusual group of Christians in the region of Samaria—possibly the believers who resulted from the ministry of Jesus in John chapter 4. These Christians were not filled with the Spirit, and it was strange.

Think about that. Is it possible that the majority of the Christians in the world today would have been anomalies in the early church? It’s a chilling thought. That’s purely speculation on my part since we’ll never know in a definitive way, but keep that thought in the back of your mind as we continue with this study. If being Spirit-filled is something that is obvious and well-known, what can we say for ourselves today?

The Moment of Filling

There seemed to be moments of being filled with the Holy Spirit both at the moment of salvation, as in when Peter preached to the Roman soldier in Acts, and other times, such as Acts 8, when believers are filled with the Spirit on a separate occasion from their profession of faith.

Christians who are already Spirit-filled are sometimes filled again, as in Acts 4:31. This means we can speak of being filled with the Spirit in both an initial sense and in an ongoing sense. We should not be satisfied with the initial filling of the Spirit. Becoming a “Spirit-filled” believer is an ongoing process that requires prayer, devotion, and the initiative of God.

The Results of Filling

Spirit-filled Christians took on several noticeable characteristics that generally served the work of spreading the Gospel and made them particularly bold for the cause of Christ. The Apostles and Deacons of the church are regularly designated as filled with the Spirit throughout Acts.

Whether giving confidence, wisdom, or the right words to say, the Holy Spirit makes the church happen. In fact, each step forward for the church in Acts is a result of the Holy Spirit. If we read a Gospel such as Matthew or Luke we’ll also notice the initiative of the Spirit.

If we are reading the book of Acts and we envy the results of the early church, then we have one central question to answer, “How do we become Spirit-filled.” Being Spirit-filled did not mean out of control, manipulative, or divorced from the truth of the Gospel.

No one could lead or effectively minister in the book of Acts without being Spirit-filled. The action recorded in Acts is regularly linked with the indwelling of the Spirit among the Christian community.

Therefore, I’m convinced from this brief study that we should hope to regularly speak of our leaders and one another as “Spirit-filled.” As we continue our look at the Holy Spirit this week, I pray that we’ll experience this filling in new and refreshing ways.

Sadly, the Charismatic renewal of the church may be fading.

Over the past few years and certainly over the past few months and days I’ve read a number of posts where folks who formerly considered themselves in the US Emergent conversation are distancing themselves from it.

For the most part, I agree with them on their theology and views on mission. I share some of their uneasiness about the Emergent branch of the broader emerging conversation, and I welcome their discussions about theology and practice.

However, my concern is that these posts have perpetuated one of the biggest weaknesses of emergent: we are defining ourselves by what we are not. Making grand “good-bye” announcements distinguishes them from others in the emergent camp publicly, setting up a new camp that is not emergent even if it has been shaped by it.

I get the substance of it, but I question the form. Why make a public exit? By drawing such lines in the sand back in the day the emerging/Emergent crowd made it much more difficult to find allies and common ground. The same may be happening today.

Where I’m Coming From

Back in 2004 and 2005 theology was something that I had to pick apart and deconstruct, pointing out its flaws. While I began to accumulate new perspectives and learned exciting new takes on theology and mission, there still existed this side of me that was grounded in the negative—though I would have asserted that I was a humble Christian committed to relearning things.

I wasn’t a theologically flat-footed, contextually obtuse, missionally obsolete conservative evangelical anymore. I was emergent, which meant a lot of things, but in many ways thrived on not being those things. The protest side of Emergent is the one critique that D. A. Carson nailed, even if the rest of his book was fit for rabbit litter.

My problem was I gained my energy from what I was not, rather than what I was. I needed to figure out where I wanted to be rather than where I didn’t want to be.

When I DIDN’T Come Out

In May of 2007 I wrote a blog post that I decided I shouldn’t share. I wrote it because I felt like I couldn’t invest very much into Emergent any more, even if I was profoundly shaped by it and the broader emerging church. I wrote a few hundred words sharing my grievances.

But I never posted it. Looking back, I’m very glad I sat on that one.

Over the following months and years I made some changes. I started listening to different people, reading some different books, and interacting on some different blogs. However, I kept following some of the same blogs and kept many of the same formative books on my shelves. The difference was one of focus: I needed to move on to think a little differently and to practice a little differently than where I sensed the bulk of the emergent crowd seemed to be.

I don’t think announcing my grievances would have helped things all that much back then. I still interacted with a broad group of folks—some I agreed with and others I didn’t. Perhaps I’d challenge someone with a blog comment if I disagreed, but if that person wasn’t receptive or became too combative I dropped that person from my blog reader list or whatever we used before Twitter to keep in touch.

Defining Ourselves by What We Are Not

Now that many of the rank and file who have benefited from the deconstruction and perspectives of the Emergent conversation have begun deconstructing Emergent itself, setting themselves apart from something, and moving on with their lives to something else. Does any of this sound familiar?

One of my greatest regrets from my early years of emergence was writing a letter to a friend about the problems at our church and cutting myself off from him and our church. I’d give anything to take that letter back, even if I still believe everything I wrote. Thankfully God’s grace can bridge the gaps we make.

I understand that some public figures no longer want to be associated with the Emergent movement. They have other projects to be associated with now. However, I’m not sure the majority of the “Good-bye” posts are beneficial for ourselves or for the body of Christ. Do we need to once again set ourselves apart from another group?

Hope for the Conversation

After I tucked away my e-mail about leaving emergent in 2007, I became acquainted with Steve Knight at the Emergent Village blog and Tripp Fuller of the Homebrewed Christianity Podcast. Even though I didn’t think my views were necessarily in the Emergent mainstream, Steve welcomed me to guest post on the Emergent Village blog. Tripp invited me on to his podcast where we chatted for hours about theology and practice long after the podcast stopped recording.

I have since benefited from their tweets, comments, posts, and podcasts.

If I’d gone ahead with that blog post back in 2007, those conversations and relationships may not have happened. While I have since stopped following certain philosophers and theologians that may or may not be at the core of Emergent, I don’t feel a need to say, “Good-Bye” to it because there are friends I could lose, perspectives that I need, and conversations that I enjoy.

So I encourage everyone to debate with charity and to offer up critiques when necessary. Post your misgivings about new books that come out—hopefully I’ll have another one for everyone to take a crack at before too long. I am all for a robust debate and questioning of theology and practice.

However, I’m not so sure saying, “Good-Bye” is the best way forward for most of us. We may find that by defining ourselves by what we are not, we end up cutting ourselves off from what we could become.

My church celebrates communion each Sunday and follows it with a time of prayer and songs of worship. It’s always deeply moving and powerful, standing in stark contrast to the first half of the service that is fine, but doesn’t affect my spirit so deeply.

I don’t intend to be critical of one part of the service over another. Simply put: I’m moved by one part and not so much by the other. It just happens.

Perhaps some things are best left unexplained, but when I think about the communion table and the celebration of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, I’m reminded of what some in my family have described in their approach to church: gathering around the person of Jesus. I find it striking that communion moves us around Jesus in both word and deed, acting out his saving work, confessing our sins, and then drawing near to worship in gratitude.

This is highly significant, as Jesus essentially ensured that when we gathered as Christian communities we would focus directly on him and his saving message. Maybe we don’t need to roll out the bread and juice each week, but the one essential should be Jesus himself.

“Does this focus on Jesus?” becomes our litmus test in determining the value of all we do. We may want to focus on truth and the Bible, but unless that truth is the truth of Christ and the Bible as it leads to Christ, we have only succeeded in putting together a nice service, rather than a gathering around Jesus.

That helps me a lot. It keeps things simple. It makes me realize that we have included communion services in our worship because it’s hard to screw up, to make it about ourselves. It’s quite hard to break bread and then think about the latest theology debate or political campaign.

When we participate in this sacrament that has endured for 2,000 years, we are tapping into a reminder that Jesus himself instituted. He didn’t leave us with a Bible and tell us to preach from it, though there’s nothing wrong with that. He told us that our gatherings should focus on him, and he provided a visual aid just in case we ever forgot.

After participating in a variety of church meetings over the years, I wanted to share a little theory I’ve been working on based on some experiences, some ongoing thoughts, and some conversations. I don’t want this to devolve into whining or castigating everyone who doesn’t meet whatever my standard may be.

I’d like to offer these thoughts as four goals for every church, not as judgments of what we are or are not doing. These are things that are worth pursuing. I’d like to know what you think of this and whether it may help us sharpen our focus as we gather together.

I think if a church can do these four things, then it’s on track with the Kingdom of God and the general trajectory of scripture:

Worship

Worship is the one thing that we know churches should do. Sometimes our worship veers a little too much toward our own experiences of God, but it is important for Christians gathered together to worship God first and foremost. Jesus is the head of the church, and therefore we enter his presence with the praise and thanks that he is due. Worship can take place in music, spoken word, prayer, or other acts in community.

Fellowship

Whether fellowship with God and fellowship with one another, churches should be drawing near to God and in the process of meeting God they will find their unity with one another. Not every church that worships God authentically moves into fellowship with God, but it is often the aim of most churches to both worship and to meet with God when they gather.

Transformation

While it’s wonderful to have fellowship with God and one another, meeting God should push us toward the next step of allowing God to transform our lives, to free us from sin, and to empower us to live holy lives. Fellow believers have the important role of building one another up and making sure that we leave our gatherings with greater freedom and in deeper commitment to God.

Service

When we meet our God who transforms and empowers us, the next logical step is to join him in his work among others. This could include serving fellow believers, but should not be limited to that. The church that meets God and experiences his healing power needs to be willing to share it with others. If that’s not happening, then we need to ask why.

Final Thoughts

I think most churches try to do at least two or three of these things well, but all four are necessary for our communities to become outposts for God’s Kingdom. When we talk about why we gather together as Christian communities, I think these are the four categories that should drive our prayers, thoughts, and plans.

Each piece flows from the other. If we’re missing one piece of this, we aren’t fully embodying the Kingdom of God in our churches.

Continuing my meditations on the book of Romans…

At the end of this epistle Paul gives a fascinating role call of his friends and partners in ministry who supported him financially and spiritually. There are accounts of financial gifts, friends who risked their lives for each other, those who worked hard, and those who shared their homes. Many suffered for Christ in prison or through material loss.

In this microcosm of the early church we see models of Christian discipleship at work, the practical unity of the church in daily life, and the costs of following Christ. Whatever the problems addressed in this epistle, we can see that God’s Spirit prompted many to live extraordinary lives as disciples.

As a final word, Paul warned them about those who cause divisions or diverge from apostolic teaching. The divisive and incorrect are serving their own agendas for their own glory. Paul knows the Romans are on the right track, but desires to keep them pure and innocent.

There is a stark contrast that we should notice between those honored by Paul and those who serve themselves. Paul notes those who have risked their money, reputation, and safety for the sake of the Gospel and for fellow believers.

Even so, God will soon crush Satan as they struggle through hard times. They are reminded that Paul and his many friends stand united with them in both suffering and in the power of God.

Paul ends with a massive theological statement that essentially sums up God saving and sanctifying power and plan. In God’s wisdom the Jews and Gentiles have been saved in Christ according to God’s plan that was hidden and mysterious for many generations. This plan that was first mentioned by the prophets has now been fully revealed in Christ.

I’m not much of a musician. I can strum chords. I can’t tune a guitar, pick notes, or read music.

But I’ve been willing to pitch in where I can, and so for years I lead worship in youth group, college groups, my home church, and in many other gatherings. My lack of musical ability bred a tendency to avoid hymns.

I didn’t get hymns. They were hard to sing, hard to play, and sounded dated. I resisted bringing them into my sets, opting to toss the hymn-lovers a bone with a jazzed up version of an old standard. In fact, I only played a hymn if I could fit it into my style.

Five years ago I hung up my guitar. I was through with the Sunday morning worship production, but on a larger scale, I began to see myself more as a writer than as a worship leader—certainly not a musician. I may strum my guitar from time to time, but for this season of my life, I don’t see the guitar fitting into it.

And this brings me to the odd thing I realized about a year or two ago.

I was listening to the Passion Hymns CD, and I realized that years of attending conservative churches had implanted a fairly long list of hymns into my brain. They were part of me—and I liked it. In fact, I worried that I may attend a church where my own hypothetical children would not be grounded in the classic hymns of the faith.

That sense of gratitude and appreciation for classic hymns has only strengthened. I toss in the word “classic” so as to denote the enduring hymns that have stood the test of time and find their way into the regular play list of most congregations. At least those who still sing the old hymns. I’m thinking of songs such as “Blessed Assurance,” “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand,” and “Come Thou Fount.” Calling a song a hymn doesn’t make it classic, but there certainly are many classic hymns that we would do well to know, sing, and even study.

I remember that Brian McLaren once wrote an open letter to those who write worship songs. He criticized the huggy, sentimental nature of many contemporary worship songs. In addition, many contemporary songs are little more than a scramble of “worshippy” words and phrases that are typically lifted from hymns and arrayed in a sequence that doesn’t always make sense. In fact, there’s a recent worship song by a prominent worship leader that I can’t even figure out…

And so before I lose myself in whining, here are a few thoughts about the lessons of hymns and then some reasons to write contemporary hymns that will endure the test of time:

What Classic Hymns Teach Us

Classic Hymns Have a Narrative

For starters, classic hymns have a poetic narrative that binds them together. There is a progression and development of thought. I once led worship with a guy who loved hymns. He couldn’t bring himself to play the first and last verses of a hymn because he felt like we were missing out on key elements of the narrative. There is a complexity and direction to the lyrics that I have come to appreciate.

Whether telling the story of the cross, the perseverance of the saints, or celebrating a particular theme, hymns have a story to tell that takes us beyond a feeling or experience. While there are exclamations of joy, wonder, and gratitude, the overall narrative of classic hymns converges with God’s salvation narrative.

Classic Hymns Have God-Centered Theology

Hymns certainly touch on one’s personal experience with God as many contemporary songs are skewered for emphasizing, but in the classic category there is a strong emphasis on the work of God, with the song writer/singer playing a significantly smaller role. For example, the song “And Can It Be” has a strong personal dynamic, but the overall focus is the saving work of God.

There are many good Christian songs with Christian themes and rallying cries to ministry. However, they aren’t exactly worship songs per se. At their best, they declare allegiance to God, but at their worst they betray a self-centered fixation on what we are going to do for God. I think we’re better off celebrating what God does and the ways God uses us. We can be part of the picture, but a classic hymn doesn’t place the singer on center stage.

Why We Need New Hymns

Some Hymns Have Dated Theology

Many classic hymns are focused on heaven, and who can blame them. Heaven is a great place, and so they end with some kind of transport into glory. However, if you’ve been following the buzz these days about heaven and our eternal future with God, there are many scholars who are calling such pictures into question to a certain degree. For instance, in Surprise by Hope, NT Wright asserts that the point of scripture is God’s coming to earth (a la Revelation 21:3) rather than beaming us up to heaven.

This means the trajectory of many hymns misses a key element of scripture. This doesn’t negate their value or even make them “wrong.” Rather, we have overstated the parts of scripture where believers leave earth to be with Jesus at the expense of God’s plan to one day return and to restore creation. In addition, our understanding of the Kingdom of God has developed over time, and so it will be crucial to see this renaissance in the Kingdom theology of the NT reflected in contemporary songs.

We Have a Limited Number of Hymns

There are two songs that drive me bonkers. One is “This is the Day” after the church I attended in college played that song at the start of EVERY SERVICE. When I shared my issue with a guy in the choir, he looked at me in utter disbelief. “But, but, that’s how we start our service!”

The other song is “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” I know you’re probably shocked. I probably shouldn’t even call myself a Christian if I feel that way about it…

I know it’s a great song. The words are awesome. I just can’t take it. Soooo many churches sing it, and it became the unofficial school song of my college because… well… we didn’t usually sing the official “school song.”

And there we have a problem. There are only so many classic hymns out there. So even if we gave in to the old-timers and crooned hymns from start to finish each Sunday, we would only wear our congregations out on the classics. There’s only so many sets we can do 52 weeks each year before hitting some repeats.

We Need Modern Hymns That Celebrate God’s Work Today

God is at work in our congregations, our communities, and all over this world, and so our songs of worship should celebrate God’s provision, faithfulness, and redemption. On a few occasions over the years I welled up so deeply in gratitude to God that I actually wrote songs and poems in response. These are kept under lock and key, but for those with the talent to pull it off, we need fresh celebrations of God’s work.

It’s Not About the Music…

Before I take myself too seriously with this discussion, I should end with a note about the place of worship music today. It’s nothing new to say that our lives should be offerings of worship to God. Worship extends into all areas of our lives, even if we also need to set aside specific times to pray and sing in worship of God.

The way we fight over our music in church, you’d think the existence of God was at stake. I don’t think we should be surprised that in a world with so many niche markets and strong brand loyalty to music that our churches are a battleground over music styles and songs. We should expect that.

When one pastor told me about the conflict in his church over the selection of music, I suggested, “Why not drop the music altogether for a period of time and explore other avenues of communal worship?” He didn’t of course because  music has become an essential for most Christian gatherings. We can’t imagine gathering for worship without music.

While I see the value of worship music and love it dearly, I feel like it’s taken on an inflated role in our congregations today. I’m far more interested in a congregation moving forward in God’s mission to the world than fretting over… frets.

I used to care about the piano drowning out my guitar, but now I can’t believe I was such a petty jerk. Our world has much bigger problems, our Gospel message is far more compelling, and our mission remains urgent.

We need workers in the harvest fields.

Worship and music have a place among the people of God as they go about God’s work, but the amount of time, worry, and energy given to our worship music belies our deeper problem. We have too much riding on one piece of the puzzle, and thereby reject other key pieces we need desperately.

I hope and pray that I’ll be able to continue singing the classic hymns as well as some wonderfully creative new songs that celebrate God’s works. However, more importantly, I pray that one day we’ll be so amazed at the splendor of God and the mighty ways that he has used us that we’ll be singing his praises with hardly a thought as to its form.

For further thought…

If you’re curious about a next step for writing “classic hymns” today, have a listen to David Crowder’s songs. Not all of them work for congregational worship, not all of them will be classics, but he’s blending the old with the new and dreaming up fresh, poetic expressions in his lyrics. He offers a good place to start.